Silver Creek hermae

Eyes made of dark-edged labradorite opened at his command, a stark contrast against the darkness in which The Umbra was shrouded. She had found a place of comfort below gnarled roots of a rather rotted stump, its once proud pole lying amongst the grass with green fluffy moss blanketing it.

She uttered the smallest huff as she rose, a little resistant to leave the quiet below, but he was her Prince and she was his to command.

“Of course, Your Highness. Lead on, Prince Makhai.” She padded after him, her steps quick and light, to an untrained eye it would look as if she were floating—a living shadow.