When the filly closes her eyes and winces after his answer to her question, Nemeon instinctively takes a step back. He does not connect the action with the brutality of his own thoughts - they are ones he has every day and despite the pain involved, he has grown accustomed to it. But he worries that maybe it is his proximity. Usually, it is just touch that can cause discomfort but this winged colt has spent so little time around those that aren’t his family. How would he truly know? Maybe the very air that he breathed was toxic and particles of it were reaching her and causing pain.
Which is the last thing he wants for the girl who’s continuing to bathe him in soft, warm light.
Red she tells him about her blood, but that had not been his first guess.
“My mom’s is green. But it’s…” And Nemeon frowns here, trying to figure out how to answer her question without scaring her off. Not a lie, then, just a kinder version of the truth like when he had answered the last. “It’s not a good glow.” It meant Anomaly was dangerous. And though, so far, it seemed like he and his sister were mostly immune to whatever toxins she housed inside her body, Nemeon remembers that he had often felt nauseous after the meals she had provided before they were old enough to graze.
And how on the nights he had spent lying around with his twin, Nemeon would feel his skin itch on his shoulder or neck or wherever they were leaning up against one another until he was forced to come up with an excuse to move away.
For him, these thoughts weigh heavier than what happens to him every morning. Not only is he unable to see the sun but when he is flesh and bone he is a threat.
Unable to find another question for her now, but wishing to disrupt this dark cloud in his mind, Nemeon finds himself wishing he could see what the sun-girl looked like when she wasn’t glowing.
@
anaise
