It was easy to put on the mask, the façade, to parade the act of one unconcerned, to adorn the appearance of normalcy so swiftly after losing control. It was how he lived, volatile, ever unstable, forever torn apart by the magic that had been revived with the rising of the Moon. He could feel it, beneath his skin, shuddering, shivering, humming with a life of its own, beyond his control. It was unwanted, a taint to his perfect complexion, a drop of poison in a pool of quicksilver. He hated it, loathed it, wanted it to be gone forever. Kiro had been so happy in the absence of the Moon and Sun, that incessant hum of magic had disappeared with them, and with the Moon's return, he felt it's threat once more. Why did it have to be him? Why couldn't the curse have been broken permanently? Why was it so determined to ruin his life?

If he denied it enough, would it cease to exist? Was it truly back, or was he simply being paranoid, his fear misplaced? After all, the true test as to its return would occur only when the Sun rose, and that had not happened - not yet. Did he have anything to fear while it was just the Moon in the sky?

Yes. He still feared what would happen when the Moon left the sky, and the Sun filled it.

A sharp reprimand dripped from the lips of the vixen, the steed winced as if physically struck by the steely tones, his violet gaze shifting behind shuddering eyelids, his ears laying down and rising again in one smooth motion as he considered her. The rich mahogany pelted belle shifted closer, and he glanced at the space between them, as if to measure it with an incredulous surprise. How dare she? Once again, she danced along the lines of his self control, threatened to tear down his resistance to his own curse, to expose the darkness that lied within him, and to what end? What did she intend on doing once she uncovered the curse that transformed him, that destroyed everything that was beautiful about him? Kiro had little faith that she could ever help him, she was but a girl, a simpleton, lost in the wilds, alone in the darkness with her strange little fox by her side. She was naught more than a pretty face to him, one that he admired for its gentle curves and musical laughter, and one that he disliked for her probing eyes and icy accusations.

Then the anger seemed to ebb, the accusing stare faded and was replaced by the previous welcoming, gentle expression softening the hard contours of her crown. The subject altered, but the stallion seemed disinclined to respond - he barely registered upon Kiro's attention span, drawn that his focus was this belle who seemed almost as capable as he at switching her moods, shifting her emotional façade to the outside world. Aurora Basin, she murmured, the colourful intonation of her chords innocent and pure once more. It was a name he had never heard before, an area he was unfamiliar with, even as he proudly boasted to be the lady's guide in the darkness through the wilds. He felt sheepish, somewhat of a fool, and the sensation only led to make him more angry, frustrated that he was as helpless in this realm as he was as helpless in curing himself of this curse.

"And where, pray tell, does the Aurora Basin lie?" Though he was vexed, his tone remained polite, if a little sharp and jagged around the edges. He would do all he could to maintain this line of talk, to forget about the fear that had taken him before, and to make others think him nothing more than a normal, sterling steed of Spanish silver.

[ @[Lena] ]