Dahozhoni Meadow Don't really care what they would say, I'm asking you to stay

Perhaps it was fear which held him there, unmoving, blue eyes tracing each movement as the stranger stepped toward him. Or perhaps it was an intrigue of his own; that old desire to gaze into the black eyes of a twisted fate which dogged his steps wherever he went. Oh, he'd known ugliness such as this, kept it curled warmly in his bed like a beloved pet.

His chin lifted, eyes alight in a silent challenge even as his gilded spine bristled. Come find out, then. If Panacea felt fear, he didn't know it then. All he knew was the sound of his heart in his ears and the yellowfire eyes which consumed his vision now.