i'm like a ghost, a vampire in the mirror; Errant

[Aneku]

OOC: I'm not sure if the tundra boys are still initiating in the magic cove thingy (it's been a long, tiring day so forgive my brain mush!) if so, then I'd like Aneku to be initiated as a proper brother, but if not feel free to ignore that request. I'd like him to stay here and join the peace caste anyway. I'm not all that grand at fighting so he'll have to just adjust to politics

If you need me I'll be out with the night. If you need me I'll be up with the moon. Watch me changing as you turn out the light. Watch me changing as I leave your cocoon. I'm like a ghost, a vampire in the mirror, You're the beast that's waiting to feed. Lord of the flies you think that you are the leader. You act so big and watch it bleed. ____The Tundra was a frosty tomb, even in the ending reign of summer, it was still hoarfrost beneath feet and still a cold chill in the air. It was what Aneku thought death was like; he may have seen it several times, the bitter, cold fingers of death, but he had not felt it first hand. He was sure, his day would come, but not for many moons and many sunrises. And it would certainly not be this sunrise. The chestnut steed was watching, the myriad of oranges and purples, red hues brightened the fading dawn. His dark eyes, oblivion and dead, watched out from the cliff edge, he was standing with a hind hoof cocked, his head dozing low, he had dreamless sleeps, no nightmares plagued him, but it was the sunrises that bought memories to his otherwise vacant mind. ____It wasn't memories per say, more like his own little twisted tales of what he thought was to happen in his life; sort of a rigid path of destiny he was paving himself. He had many bricks to lay and much concrete to pour, but perhaps he was deciding which route to take next. Aneku knew one thing, he quite liked the Tundra, and the fiery steed didn't like much, so that was certainly something. It was not as active as he thought, that was something he quite liked, but something that made his sinews ping beneath him, there was not a challenge with only a handful of men. Perhaps a tight knit community, but he thought they needed more. He did not know much of Tundra law, or much lore of the world here, but he knew he would help, somehow. And in the end, his help would be helping himself, as he would gain the knowledge, the know of everything he could and in the end, he would be nearing the end of his destiny's path. ____Soon. That would be soon. but first, first Aneku had to reacquaint himself with the ideals of life, he had to acquaint himself with the things that normal horses did. It was all very well living in the shadows for the beginnings of his life, feeding on flesh and blood, but now, now he had to do something, and to do something, he needed to be put somewhere. And he had an inclining on where to go. He could no trust himself, or the death demon inside of him, the penchant for blood, the taste for skin, he could not trust himself to fight someone and not tear them apart and feast upon them like the vampire he was. He'd have to place himself on the seat of diplomacy. ____He could do that. He was sure. Perhaps the death glares would get him somewhere, perhaps his unnerving silence could hurry along agreements. He gave a snort, pawed at the frozen loam beneath him, picked up a few twigs and chewed thoughtfully. Mid chewing he popped out of sight and then appeared down at the bottom of the cliff, where a small patch of long grass had thawed in the morning sun, it was still tough, icy in places, but he continued to chew and eat. It filled gaps within him, not satisfying, but it past the time for now, until he had something to do, something fulfilling. ____If he stood still long enough, he'd freeze, he'd become an imposing statue in the Tundra. Those that would gawk would still be unnerved by the deadness in his eyes and the permanent jeer on his black lips. His ash tipped ear circled his poll, catching the distant cries of the wolves, the morning yawn of the bears in their distant coves. He was adjusting, slowly, but it was certainly more homely than wandering the shadows, he would certainly give the Tundra that. ANEKU the teleporting death god of carnage & jinca, the coldhearted resident of the tundra

[Errant]

Errant has felt death, and there was no cold. There was simply nothing.

He knows now that not all deaths are the same; perhaps Aneku will feel cold when his time comes. He does not swell on it overmuch. Life is most important, and too dwell too long on death is to beckon it closer.

The black king is sleeping still, and it is the slowly brightening dawn that wakens him, pushing insistently at his closed grey eyes. He wakes with a yawn and a shake of his heavy black coat, blinking his grey eyes slowly.

Most of the Tundra is still sleeping, Errant knows. His eyes tell him this, and his ears that hear no movement. He is not all-seeing as the other magicians claim to be; Errant is only mortal. He has no need to inspect each tiny crevice of the Tundra with arcane aid when he has walked these slopes since his childhood. He trusts his own senses – and those of the other men – to alert him to danger.

He’s made it to twenty-five years old; that has to be a sign of some sort.

In the distance, something red moves, and Errant narrows his still sleep-heavy eyes to see it better. It is the chestnut stallion that had appeared during the meeting, he sees. The other stallion is doing nothing more than browsing, and Errant knows that it is past time that he truly greet the newcomer.

Aneku, right?” He asks when he is close enough to converse, bobbing his head politely in greeting. “I assume you mean to stay in the Tundra, since you’re still here?” There’s something slightly amused about the turn of the black stallion’s mouth – no one stays in the Tundra for long if they do not intend to make it their permanent home.