His eye had never started to work. To him, it seemed only natural. After all, he had always known it never would. It seemed instinctive to understand that simple fact: it always saw darkness. An impenetrable, ceaseless darkness. His father had laughed, amused by the presence of that singular violet eye. Heyel's eye. It stared out, beaten by the glistening orange of Eden's own that rested in Enoch's left socket. He had laughed and because of that, he had refused to clean it. Instead, it would remain. Enoch had grown attached to the eye in that case. In his mind, it was something special. Whereas it had only ever seen darkness, from that day on, it seemed to see something more.

In any case, he had grown thankful to have kept it. Each time his parents brought prey, he had witnessed the way they squirmed and fought the pain, knowing well that it might have been him had the lid peeled back to reveal something else. Simple and effecient, this learning process had been. Just as quickly, he had learned that his mother could not utter words to he and his sister. Instead, she spoke with her entire body. Simple days and yet, those simple days had come to an end it seemed. As the sun rose higher and higher, the air hotter and hotter, he had been driven out by some primordial urge.

Suddenly, he had been consumed by a world of colour and shadows; sounds of birds and the ocean; the smell of earth and others. It chewed him up and yet, he refused to be swallowed by it. Instead, he sought the others he knew existed. His father had been honest about that: there were other children, more perfect and absolute then he to be sure. All their parts worked and yet, he had to question even that. He had brought back the dead, after all.

She was in the center when he found her. Rather, he had stumbled upon her. From the tree line, he had stumbled forward on untrained paws, at awe as his nose grazed the yellow tops of flowers. He barely registered her presence for several moments as he gathered himself, his orange eye wild in its socket as it flickered about, drinking in all that it could before it landed on her. It wavered fro a moment, fluttering over her like the wings of a butterfly. A low hmm of inquiry began in the back of his throat, his tail arcing slightly as his head dropped; curious, instinctively drawn closer but repulsed at the same time. He did not know whether to dominate or submit and so, he ended up as a tangle of mixed signals. Nonetheless, he prowled forward, facing her now and revealing the dead violet eye that stared ahead, staring into her with perhaps more intensity than the living.