Lightning rises in her marrow at the word. It's small sparks of light that lick at her soul like water and like death, cold and violent. There is a storm in her, a tangle of why, and who, and then why, why, why. It swirls in eddies of light and hunger and her body quivers with the unbidden though that there might be something in his blood to douse the fire made of light and fury. The grass rots out in circles around her, patterns of blackness that hold no meaning she can understand.
But oh, there is a meaning in his stardust gaze and in her own purple bright eyes that meet him fiercely (and a little lost). “It's not his tail now.” She swings it like a whip at her side and petals fall below her blade like drops of wishes made of blood instead of seed. It soothes something in her, that small death, although Thana could not say what it is that has been soothed. Only that it has.
There is still this space between them, broken up with shadows and the tip of her horn. She wants to ask him what the rift is. She wants to ask him what he knows of all these thing dancing endlessly in her. Anything at all would be more than she knows (and all she knows is hunger and wanting). But in the end that black rot magic rises up in her like a sickness and she take a step towards him.
She wants to say, I am the rift, but she doesn't know where those words came from so she only swallows them back down. Thana knows nothing of the rift but brightness and ceaseless running. She says nothing about it when she draws near enough to taste the dusk and sweet grass rising from his skin like smoke.
They each burn like the pool of light did not.
In the end she only cocks her head at him, like a strange vulture of a bird, and cleaves the air with a little of that furious storm in her chest. “Because it's the only way I know how to look at you.” That beast of want rises in her along with the sorrow. She wants to taste the darkness on his skin so that she might have something other than death and rot on her lips. Thana wants to drink his heart and learn each secret his form has left to give.
And when she watches him, wanting and starving, she thinks that this is what dying must feel like-- the need to love and destroy everything in the world.
@Asterion
