His body had not yet filled out despite his whole moon within Moonglow.
But his health had balanced some, ribs no longer as sharply protruding as they once had. No longer bones, just a willow tree.
With it came a branding of confidence.
He slipped out earlier than nightfall. Only because the skies had darkened early with rain clouds. The trickling of light rain sang out through the spine.
He climbed the higher reaches away from the ulaq, keen to see more of the land than he had so far.
a man had taken residence within the family ulaq. silent and willowy as he may be, his existence here was as loud as can be. in came the stranger to his mother’s home and arms, out goes the children. out goes lómion, who had thus far spent his many nights by lótë’s hearth.
a moon had passed since then, and lómion did not feel any less strange sleeping just beyond the ulaq. he craved the security it brought him every night. he missed sleeping besides his mother. some nights he wished to return to her. he’d even stand just lengths away from the den. but he always remembered the man was there taking up whatever space there was.
But not tonight. Tonight the man wandered. His footfalls woke the boy from his slumber and he followed behind quietly.
He was blind to the child who followed.
Perhaps because he was not used to being followed. So much of his life was now lived within the small confine of the ulaq, he sometimes forgot he was in a place with many.
So it would only be when they were too far from the dens for Makan to seek frantic shelter, that he would realize he was not alone.
It was a shadow.
A shadow with a viridescent gaze.
Makan's body threatened to crumble beneath him at the mere sight.
the boy trailed the man for a long while before he was noticed. and when he was the man said nothing. he froze in place like a deer caught in lights.
in that moment lómion was not timid as he usually was with strangers. he stared at the man as he would a deer; concentrated and unblinking.
but he wasn’t prey.
lomion swallowed hard and averted his gaze.
i didn’t expect you to be out here.
Makan had grown...vaguely familiar with more words.
Still he struggles, though. Still he finds discomfort in others speaking instead of acting — and this holds true as the boy stares him down. Unblinking. Focused.
He lowly whined, dull blue gaze looked anywhere that wasn't the boy. Snapping to a damp branch not too far away, then fluttering to rain-shining stones.
the man whined, even with lómion’s attempt to seem smaller. his eyes wandered just as the boy’s; he caught them moving about.
there had been a nervousness that initially clung to lómion’s chest. but as he looked at the man a second time — took in his shrunken form — he felt the claws release from his heart.
lómion felt… satisfaction. he did not know what to make of it in that moment.
don’t you like my mother’s ulaq?
he spoke only to prevent himself from picking apart his own mind. it’s nice to sleep in at night. it’s very warm and my — my anaana she is very kind to you i’m sure. i don’t know why you’d want to leave —
oh, he’s rambled.
lómion bit his tongue and cleared his throat. sorry.
A flood.
Makan was not a swimmer.
His eyes returned to the boy and it was with as much confusion as it was...hurt, perhaps, was the best word for it. As if he felt accused for having left.
Not...leave.
He managed to get out of the clenched depths of his throat. Shame dripped to his voice even with its ungodly pitch. Only see more Moonglow.
He told the smoky young man.
Perhaps that would...soothe whatever discomfort Makan felt, whatever the boy meant with his string of words.