Somber light was blocked from the rear and the muscles in her thin neck contracted slowly to her right, ogre eyes feasting hungrily upon a mahogany intruder. The words she spoke fell upon deaf ears as they gazed upon each other, moments in time that were frozen in discomfort as silence ensued. Thoughts would not become action as the hell-dog sat idly before the horned vessel of light. No real assumptions had been made of the squawking disturbance, but she was surely more heartfelt then the shadowy beast in whose company was sought. In a moment of weakness and perhaps annoyance, hollowed tunes slipped through thin, cracked lips. “And how should it concern you?” Tired, black eyes came to rest on those of brown with a mild look of curiosity. This mare looked nothing like her own incestuous relative, so it could not be a reincarnated façade of the demon herself. In that moment of realization, her shoulders relaxed now and she finally shifted to face the other, her steady gaze unwavering and yet so very empty. Nothing lie in their depths, no hopes, no emotions, no compassion…

A bitter moment passed between them, where upon a gust of wintry air moved in from the north and chilled the atmosphere. The frozen one then took the time to ponder this mare’s obvious fascination in her presence and a small smirk part her lips. The feature looked strange upon her face, as no such displays of amusement had crossed her path in years.

Beyond them, the world shifted ever so slightly and that wave pressed between them slowly, creating tension that perhaps was only susceptible to the crow with no wings. If it had affected her, she was sure to hide it well, but then again there was a small tremor of abhorrence that crept alone her spine, a small reminder of the fear that she had felt in the company of her incestuous mother. As if to rid herself of the sickening sixth sense, she grated her teeth, crunching the obvious pressure that had consumed her, body and soul. The war that had been waged internally was silent as the brittle mare returned once more to her present company.

Lena was her name, one that held elegance in the very sound of it, but she saw no elegance here. Just a plain animal dressed in horn to parade as some mythical fantasy that should never have come into existence. Both appeared to be fairies in a dreamlike existence that was real and yet so unreal. At that, the mare’s whole life had seemed to be surreal, one nightmare after another, never allowing her to surface from an endless slumber that darkened her days little by little. For years she had desperately cried to the heavens, asking what she had done to deserve such devastation and no answers ever came.

She watched Lena now, abandoning her reverie for something of more substance. Those dark eyes followed her every movement, the soft rise and fall of her chest, the stray threads of matted mane that flew about in the winter breeze; it was a moment that she would sear into the back of her mind, a moment of pure normalcy that warmed her icy heart if only for a short time. Again the words bubbled from her throat to the quite air, rasping from misuse like an old dog. “I seek nothing that you can offer, though I wonder what it is you seek here in my presence.” The message was clear, though curt, due to the wraith’s lack of grace in the company of another. All she had ever known were the nauseating words of infatuation spoken quite frequently by the old witch. The thought made her stomach twist, creating once again a hunger that could not be satisfied by victuals of the herbal breed.

Swallowing the sensation, she shifts once more, nostrils flared as if spooked by some unseen force before calming again. “You’ll call me Chernobyl… as courtesy beseeches me.”

It speaks to me

and says I'm coming for you