Fairspell Meadow lucifer bleeds ichor

Time Stamp: approx. dusk but super close to nightfall.

under the candied and softened glow of moonbeams kitsune finds blissful reprieve from the harsh burn of golden sunrays and strikes out from his hiding place — a moderately sized abandoned fox den that he'd make adjustments to, to accommodate his size. luckily, though he is tall he is of a streamlined frame and fits easily enough in the dark earth that is only meant to be temporary. though, in truth, as he traverses from serpent lake — where he briefly he veers to take a drink of water — into the depths of fairspell meadow ...he has no destination in mind.

these lands are wildly foreign to him. the tall heather grasses sway around him as he moves swiftly through them, trying to be stealthy of foot but the rustle of drying grasses is unavoidable as they prepare for the winter ahead. kitsune takes in the shadows as they writhe around him, having learned a long time ago not to fear the darkness of night. it is all he's ever seen of the world: when everything is bathed in breathing shadows and saccharine moonshine.

his ...blessing, as his mother and father have deemed it since he was old enough to understand their words, makes it near impossible for him to navigate in the daylight hours. others in their bloodline, he was told, have been entirely blinded by the albinism. he was fortune to at least be able to navigate the world by nightfall as opposed to being unable to navigate it all. still, it is a gift that marks him as a true kijo in the words of the caldera's elders.

kitsune's steps give pause as he studies the dying vestiges of sunlight in the distant horizon, studying the star sprinkled sky in its myriad of rich colors: blood red, citrine orange, candy floss pink. it's marvelous and the young and aspiring astronomer is enraptured, wishing that he could pause this moment so he would not have to keep moving.