Chernobyl

The embers of sunset still burn behind the peaks, the rivers of bright light are probably going to creep out soon. Truthfully Chern would much rather the moon be shining, dominating her skyscape domain like the Queen she is - but not out here, out here she is submissive to the ruling ribbons of color that dance almost nightly in the open skies.

There is always a time to yield and a time to fight, even the moon have it engrained in them.

She listens to him intently, the tip of her head still tingling from where he lipped at her thick forelock. She's glad to hear he has found somewhere to belong, something she has yet to do. A small pang stirs in her chest when he mentions not wanting to be alone any longer. She lets it go easily, but stuffs it somewhere deep in the cogs of her dark mind. When he drapes his wing over her back she pulls halfway out of the embrace they're tangled in, only snaking her head out from underneath his throat groove and leaving her body still against his. Nightfall is ever creeping around them, but bitterness has yet to bite at her nostrils and eartips as it usually does. He asks of her adventures and she lets a chuckle softly hit the cold air. “Certainly nothing worthy of being called an adventure.” She laughs at herself a little bit, “A few scuffles and some lessons learned, but nothing special.” Her black eyes look into his, grinning deviously with only one side of her mouth. “Maybe I'm done being alone as well...” She reaches for his muzzle with her black lips, whuffing onto him affectionately before recoiling to speak again. “I'm thinking of putting together a small outcast group, with what purpose I have no idea...so far.” Her tail flicks, a subconscious action she does when her mind begins to go too far too fast. “Something.” Anything but a kingdom, but she doesn't say this aloud, it would sound too much like an insult...something she would never do to Murdock, not to mention she doesn't lack respect for the ranked subjects of the various kingdoms, she simply knows she would never do it again. Not after the Basin. Her attention comes back to him, “Tell me love,” she finds him with her abysmal dark eyes, “What do you do out there in the Edge?” Her curiosity is genuine, her voice is absent of the usual cynicism, as it always is when she talks to him.

LYRICAL GENIUS