Watching watching watching. When her eyes should have moved on, left the living breathing shadow to dwell alone in his domain of the night, her gaze stayed. Every part of the stallion that could feel did, and felt that he was in danger of wading into unknown waters. Waters that required thought and feeling, that required him to live and lift himself from the empty hole that he had become quite comfortable in. At least so he had pushed himself to believe over the years. Sinewed limbs shifted beneath him, slow smooth motions of one that could had been merely settling himself more comfortably, or preparing to depart. He barely knew himself as he returned the shimmering creatures gaze. It had been so long since he had had to actively make a decision beyond where to rest and nourish his body next. The future was each next day, the past empty but for dusty old memories that had moulded the dark form that now stood.
Lingering was unwise. It meant he was forced into the world of the living, to form thoughts and force them beyond the confines of his mind. And why would any wish to know his thoughts? No one. You were never wanted. A sharp clink rang out even over the sounds of the falls as a hoof stamped hard against rocks underfoot. As empty as the mind had become the scars ran beyond his coal black flesh, lines scoured deep into the heart and soul. The pain was there, the anger, the hurt. Yet to acknowledge it, to open his eyes to the desolate creature he'd become, was to know just how weak he was. He had allowed those words to shape him instead of shrugging them off and taking his own path. Better to remain one of the shadows.
Yet there he stood. The night beckoned and he remained, ears tuned unwisely to the ladys satine tones as a question formed upon the air. What kept him up? Eyes strayed back to the glimmering waters, withdrawing himself from the sight of the gilded mare that tugged at his attention and draw him back to the world of the living. He rarely truly slept he realised as he permitted the query to enter his thoughts and sliver into the depths of his mind. Snatches of rest were grabbed when his body demanded it as he ate when hunger gripped him and drank when thirst arose. With sleep came dreams. And dreams were worse than memories. Dreams could run away along whatever path they wished, dragging him along an unwilling passanger for the ride until they deemed fit to release him.
"It has become habit," was the low rumble of words that finally emerged however. Perhaps if he simply spoke as the words arrived he would not need to think. He could simply continue to just be. "It is where I belong." Through his odd wording carried the evidence of his lack of socialising. He knew what was wrong. But what was right was a harder thing to shape.
Eyes turned from the falls, empty dark endless pools, void aside from the moonlight reflecting within their depths as they found their way of their own accord back to the lady. Her tones haunted him, stirred echoes of emotions he had believed long banished or atleast well buried. "The moonlight welcomes you, but you do not belong in the shadows, Miss. Why are you here?" The words slid out smoothly yet they lacked the charm that other stallions might have spoken such a statement with faced with such a damsel. He was not a charmer. But a small spark of intrigue had been lit within the chasm of nothing, a tiny flicker of life pulling him from the lure of the shadows.
