Dangerous. Such a word might have been uttered in his ear had any other seen the flicker behind her eyes and yet, the wind stayed silent to him. Instead, it merely hummed the tune of her heartbeat and breath, a sound that almost sounded timid. How strange, he had to admit, to realize in sudden clarity that there were parts of her that were still
usual. She could still bleed, still be hunted and held, damaged and taken and his heart skipped at such a thought. He had never pictured her as mortal but as a shadow, an intangible force. It was unusual, then, to feel some part of his blood warm at the thought of her mortality. To be so close to her made him aware of too much and part of him recoiled, afraid to find connection with something he might lose.
Yet he had little choice. Whenever he dared to recoil, she filled the space instead. Like a river, she was unstoppable once she decided which direction she sought to flow and so, he allowed the current that was her to pool around him.
His lip twitched at her remark - unofficial. He was not surprised, no. Aster had proven herself strong enough - foolish, at times, Wraith had to admit - but strong and yet, she had not proved such a thing to Grimoire. As far as Wraith knew, nobody had. In fact, Halcyon's blood was thick with a past muddled in Grimoire's own. If she ever grew to taste that, he dared not think how much she would crave the hunt. Still, it was something and some far off piece of him was warmed with the knowing that even if he fought against it, he might not ever shake her shadow off him.
"Everyone needs...a shadow." He dug into the meat, every movement almost cautious, planned in its execution, "even you." It was his way of an offer, something akin to her own. He would follow, come, go. He had decided it a long time ago though he could not say when. Sometimes, the shadows caught her face in such a way that made him believe he had decided it a generation ago, or perhaps longer. In any case, it confused him more than anything but he had never been a fighter. He had always run and for once, he had planted his feet firmly in place despite Asteraia's endless horizon to run. An eclipse - they were the sun and moon perhaps, always chasing but sometimes, things aligned in such a way that they met in unison within the sky. He wanted to laugh at the hopelessness of it but instead, his ears flickered to her at attention, his head tilting.
"Demon," he repeated the word with a glance to her, his eyes tracing the outline of her neck and face before his eyes moved to hers, "Tobias was one...once...but then, Baphomet...mother...Nakki, Ishtar." The names felt unusual to say, memories he had buried deep within the soil of his mind. "Monster, beasts...but to some...even Heyel, angels." He sighed. "It's just..a word." Perhaps it was not what she sought to hear and yet, his eyes remained firmly upon hers before he spoke once more with what felt to him like finality, like some truth he had kept within: "You can be...more. More than a word."