[open] don't come find me; any

[Gale]

i hear the wicked get no rest, but when you do ---------- i hope you dream of me The brindle creature remains near the waterfall. Mostly he is beneath the water, searching in and around the mysterious spring from which erupts liquid magic. The shapes he takes are varied but always aquatic, and this evening is no different. The sea turtle becomes a horse as he reaches the shallows, standing up and shaking the mane away from his bright blue eyes to better See the green horse moving through the jungle. Pale white and growing along the length of his spine, it is a stark contrast to the iridescent navy blue that comprises most of his skin. Equally white are the now-damp feathers of his quetzalcoatlus-like forelimbs, with which the horned magician easily climbs up the shallow bank. The glowing black antlers that grow from between his ears are very unlike those he’d worn at their last encounter. Gale has trouble recalling their last meeting, and must sort through the years and layers of shadows. But he is sure he had known her, and from the way his newly-resurrected host recoils from the probe, she had not been just an acquaintance. “Divest.” He says, stepping closer with a bright smile. “It’s been a while.” There are no shadows on his handsome face, but they twirl and twine around his legs, illuminated on occasion by the lightning that flickers in miniscule bolts across his skin. GALE