i’ve been both a saint & a viper
He feels it - the dark is alive with shadows and monsters, which is nothing knew to the near soulless stallion that stands expressionlessly before her. The movement in the darkness is typical along the peripherie of his haunting stare. His own voices that mock and motivate him are nearly always just that - voices - but they often would take shape of shadow and demons when they decide to crawl along his spine and wrap their talons around the delicate bones against his legs. Balto, of course, does not realize that their presence his now known by others - no longer only seen by him (and perhaps Sabra) alone.
Though he is tired, battle-worn, and terribly hungry, there is comfort in seeing Sabra. She is sharp and curt in a way he is not shocked by - her electric eyes are looking past him, no doubt feeling the same eyes on them that he is aware of. Even in the dim light of the eerie ring that hangs above the forest, she is bright compared to him. She understands his burden, his darkness, his demons. She accepts it fully without question and in the midst of the chaos in his mind, she is a guiding light. She illuminates the scene around them in an instant and Balto finally allows his eyes to fall to the girl that is beside her, uncertain and searching for comfort, but not finding much in their presence.
You won?
It feels like an accusation across her lips, as if she already knew the answer. He snorts sharply, his gaze clicking back to her as his black ears fall into the equally black color of his tangled mane. He lifts his chin abruptly as the chittering of voices arises in a chorus behind him (he assumes no one can hear them as always, but perhaps the eclipse has changed that). The movement reveals the blood-red V that cups his throat harshly, their whispers dancing around his ears. All that rage and you still failed. Weakling.
“No.” His reply is curt and without emotion, but there is no mistaking the way his jaw clenches tightly and how the muscle in his cheek jumps with the tension.
Balto follows her without question, waiting for the girl to turn to follow what he believes to be her mother. It could easily be some filly that Sabra found abandoned in the forest, but the wolf does not care for the reason she is here. He only notices, he realizes, how terrible his hunger is as he falls into step strides behind him, his terribly blue eyes now nearly black with how large his pupils have become.
Swallow them whole, a voice whispers into his ears, hot and putrid. He grimaces, ears pressed firmly into his neck, remaining silent and following Sabra dutifully further into the forest.
Balto
@[Sabra]