Moonspear fulthark

Who is she? Asks the man as he transitions from solid-and-present to figment, scattering. But it is enough to root Larus in the moment. He knows this — he can answer this question, this important all-consuming everything.

She— he starts to explain, his voice a force, so intent and so focused it is like he is himself again. In his brain flashes memories, blinking and fizzling out like buckets of firecrackers being set off all at once.

At first the boy thought it was only a figment of his imagination - a shadow cast by the cliffs, contorted by the darkness of the trees and the irregular terrain. He thought he saw it move, and came to a sudden stop. The wind billowed around him, whistling briefly along the spine-like bluff to a strange pitch before falling flat, and he watched the shadow move; curious but resistant.

She mimicked perfectly what she saw within her mind, something she had seen her mother and father do time and time again to their subordinates. Saghani possessively moved to push herself against her, embedding her scent into his without quite thinking. She shifted her gaze to the horizon and noted his approach again in her peripherals; her chin moved downward slightly, not enabling him to go near her vulnerable throat quite yet but not preventing him from any other area upon her features. Her tail waved, encouraging, as she tried to bowl against him to press him to the earth again in a now, at least, playful show of dominance. ()

She -- he repeats, unaware that he's been standing next to the tree stump now for a few moments too long. He's reaching in to his brain for anything concrete, like drawing water from a well whose cistern has been crudely patched. Its there, but not for long. He wants to remember — he has to.

Dark and... wild. I love her, the man leaks incongruent details. My shadow, he says, and looks at the blackness all around him, unable to differentiate any one shape because of the canopy overhead, and his brow knits again. She was here. I... Left her somewhere, maybe, the frown deepens, his face is growing warm and Larus is suddenly addled again, angry at himself because he knows he isn't making sense. What's her name? Where did she go? Where was he now? With a huff he kicks at the debris at his paws, unseating one of the smooth stones he had been investigating before, and it clatters along an irregular path and comes to rest by Dirge.

Larus' eyes follow it, and as it settles so does his irritation. His tail re-tucks, reminded to show humility before this other man. Larus. Is that... I think that's me. He nods, punctuating his words with deliberate motion to cement the concept. I don't... I don't remember her name.