' Hardly has the universe stretched its wings to span '
“Don't I?” He says between flashes of pearl teeth, as if the wealth on the words lives only in the broad slash of his smile and the redness of his tongue. Part of him wants lean forward to whisper in her ear, until his voice is her thoughts and all her own are dead and gone and forgotten. He could lick words across her brow, sing to her blood that he knows it, knows what darkness is genetic and what is nurtured.
Veer wants to nurture that darkness in her blood, to feed it like a flame until it consumes and then recreates. She could be more---
Elif could be like her brother (or at least as glorious as how her name sounded on a dying monster's tongue). Veer felt as if it was a prophecy, the sound of her, when he lowered his bloody teeth to the stallion and tore out his throat on the last syllable of her name. Elif, he wants to whisper, there is so much of your blood that I know. Instead he only catches the fearful flick of her eyes and all the awful things he could say die.
Only silence and the sounds of them live in that space and in that space he silently speaks to his monster. Soon, Najjad, soon. And his monster says nothing back, nothing more than a flash of feeling in which Veer knows they are both ready, ready, ready.
Veer moves past her then and his lips vibrate in a hum like a lion pondering what to do about the approaching jackals. Every movement he makes is lazy, and he lets his wings brush close enough to touch her, close enough that their feathers might caress, golden sun to dark, desert sand. “Does the price matter?” He asks between the soft chime of his golden chains that reflect the sun like diamonds might.
Najjad moves closer as Veer talks. His talons tap against the stone and his beak clacks together as if he anticipates the meal to come, the feast of a Pegasus. Veer can feel the gryhon's amusement in that steel channel of thoughts between them, he can feel that the beasts belly is already full and he only wants to slumber in the darkness.
But still, Veer is careful to let his breath sigh out in fear and his forces his heart to beat a little faster. His wings flare out wildly, as if he's they prey caught before the predator. He's also just as careful to let his steps move a little faster until he's between the mare and the door as if he's planning to run and leave her to deal with the creature alone.
“We should run,” His words are almost frantic and his wings shift in a frenzy at his side and the pitch of his chain-song grows rabid. “Or perhaps fight, but I do not think I could take him alone, not if a nest has been built here.” There will be time for bargains later, his fear seems to silently say in the white-rimmed panic of his gaze, there is only living now.
All the while Veer moves back, back, back to the single, tunnel out and Najjad (who looks very wild and hungry) spreads wide his massive wings, screeches out a roar, and begins to fly towards them.
