I had a dream that we were dead
and we pretended that we still lived
It seems it will be his fate, to attract attention because of his awful, deathly appearance. He has yet to meet another who is not enamored or fascinated or fearful of the way his skin stretches so tautly over his bones, of the way his black and gold coat grows in dull patchy clumps, of the way his eyes gleam a dull, milky blue. Few know of the rest of it (the way his skin sometimes splits, rotting away from the inside). He erases the evidence before anyone ever notices, his gift of healing working only partially to mend the horror of his macabre appearance.
But his sister, she knows more than anyone. They had shared a womb, had lived long months pressed against each other, sharing space and thought and peace. But she had left, taking a small piece of him with her. He had not even realized that piece was missing until she is here in front of him again, making him feel whole and complete once more.
And he knows her, perhaps more than anyone else does. The cold assuredness she exudes is as much a part of her as the talons scratching at the earth beneath the snow. But never for him. For him she warms, showing a side of herself that no one ever sees (that he sometimes wonders if anyone else ever will see).
A smile curves his golden lips as he presses against her in a brief embrace, the warmth of her teasing washing over him like a comfortable blanket. He laughs then, laughs in a way he has not done in a long time. ”Hmmm. Have you had your ears checked lately?” he quips back, tossing his head as he aims a gentle nip at the white-tipped lobe, more lip than tooth.
His heart warms at her confession. Pressing his muzzle into her neck briefly, he echoes the words back to her with heartfelt sincerity. ”I missed you too.” He pauses for a moment before uttering the next words, almost afraid to hear the answer. ”Please tell me you’re staying.”
Jinn
undead son of Tiphon and Elysteria
