He did not mind the dark.

For the better part of his life, Osiris had come to accept his place within the shadows of life. Clinging to the shroud of darkness, swathing shades about himself, the monster who had frightened so many was kept at bay. By hiding the other half of his lineage in the ephemeral shadows, the wolf was able to mimic normalcy. All the scruff, the pointed teeth, the large lupine ears, the clawed paws, and the eyes of a dog - they were hidden within the night's embrace. The darkness had long been his friend, his companion, his safety. Long had the stallion considered his rightful place to be within the midnight world.
A monster bound by chains of shadow for all eternity.

Until, of course, he met the one shadow which sparked light into his world.
Comadre, a thin imp of a dragon.

Dragged from the sorrowful caves in the mountains, out into the light of the world, the wolf began to experience what life held beyond the shadow. There were friendships, enemies, loyalties, and the most frightening of all, the tightening of his chest caused by an emotion many would insist was love. Just as soon as it entered the fragile realm of his beating heart, the emotion was shut by abandonment, betrayal, leaving the path more obscured by the twisting coils of darkness than every before.

One more face to bury in the grave of his memories. One more name to forget. One more connection to lay to rest like all of the others. One more regret.

However, for all the sorrows the real world had brought upon him, Osiris did not feel anguish in his life. Friendship had been found. First, it came with the dragon he had wrest from the roots of a tree with his twisting words. Then, the golden eyes of the wolves who rescued him. Next, it came with the mismatched eyes of a young girl. One after another they had begun to form. The loneliness of his soul shuddered to a halt, and the wolf began to forget why he had taken such an affinity for the dark. The real world of light, it was perhaps more mysterious and twisted than the shadows he clamored to before. More obstacles, more turns, more heartache - yet was it not also more beautiful, more exciting, more wondrous?

Now, the colors of the world were lost in the absence of the Gods. Whatever kindness they would bestow upon the beings here had dried up, gone missing, leaving the souls bereft of comfort. The absence of the light was felt, and Osiris understood the true nature of his beloved darkness. A cage, bars made of endless night. Unless someone freed you from the misery of that cage, you would never leave. Had it not been for his first true friend, Osiris might still be within that same cage.

Standing beside one of the strange trees illuminated by unknown forces, the wolf begins to wonder if he had been placed back inside the cage he had been born into. The night was endless, and the small warmth provided by the breath of spring did not fight the chill growing in his soul.
In the shadows, you are alone. Without a doubt, we are all alone.
""

[ herrp this post is really strange and rambly, sorry.
Open for anyone. ]

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Osiris, there is a girl approaching.

From the branches of the tree, a dragon by the name of Comadre hangs. He is small, barely noticeable as his ebony scales blend in seamlessly with the night sky. A flash of violet eyes in the midst of that darkness is the only notice you will receive. Turning his head slowly, purposefully, the wolf watches at the mare arrives. She is tiny, a girl. A child.

However, there are curves to her figure and her face that suggest that this is a mare, not a filly. The wideness of her eyes does not appear to be from fear, perhaps striving for a better look in the night. Whatever the case, Osiris simply shifts his weight from one hind leg to another, maintaining contrapposto stance - uncaring, casual. This dainty little fairy would need to grow demons horns and breathe fire to be of a threat to him.

Golden eyes note with dissatisfaction that she is staring, rudely, upon him. The night interrupted by company he did not recognize, and therefore, he did not care about. A sigh is lifted from his lips as she opens her own, dulcet tones filling the formerly quiet air with female nattering. Ears flicker back unhappily for a moment, though he wishes not to appear threatening. His claws dig into the dirt below. Unfortunately, he is a threat, whether she recognizes it or not.

Poor, stupid girl, apparently by the name of Yuri. His face turns in her direction lazily once more, peering at her with gruff, bored eyes. He long hair and sculpted features represent his exact opposite - delicate beauty. A flower in the dark and dank night, just waiting to be crushed under the hoof of a fool who cares not for beauty. Her fate is just as foolish, parading petals to attract those who bring about heartache and pain.
Fools, bouncing about to meet one another in the night.

"Monster," he answers, tones rich and baritone, guttural almost in nature. "Mongrel," he continues, his voice beginning to sound decidedly more civilized, with an odd sort of elegance made rugged by his pointed teeth. "Sometimes even 'mister' - though that is usually only ladies too petrified to insult me." He laughs, short and abrupt, the sound appearing just as quickly as it disappears.

"What do you want, girl?"

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Glancing toward the pair of violet eyes in the tree, Osiris looks at Comadre annoyed, as usual. Why do I always get pestered during contemplation? he asks, hearing a laugh from his other half. Because you are always grumpily thinking about something, Osiris - it's unavoidable. Turning his head back in the direction of the mare, the stallion resists a frustrated snort. Tch, echoes in their mind, attention turning back toward the snooty woman who had stumbled upon their tree.

The faint glowing of the tree pulsates and glows, much like the stars above, illuminating the patches of fur, mane, and outlining his paws. The darkness hides the pieces turned away from the dull light, while placing eerie attention to the features opposite. A silhouette outlined like the nightmarish figures of a ghost; how fitting. "I have not seen a cave in many years," he says, speaking like an old timer. His voice is annoyed, thin, tired. Tired of her insipid comments already. "But, I could probably locate a nice pit to bury you in."

A threat, not even an attempt at being veiled, crosses in just the same bored tones. Was he serious? The plucky mare would likely still carry on her natterings regardless of the answer to that question. She seemed petulant, wanting to ensnare him in whatever charm allows for beautiful belles to say what they please without consequence. Beauty did not matter to a wolf, at least not this one.

"And I should have to suffer this conversation because you decided to take a walk?" he asks, growing more grouchy by the second. Her entitled attitude grated upon his nerves, making him rise from his relaxed stance to straighten on all four limbs. Whatever height difference they shared only increased. The barrel of his body removed from the soft trunk of the tree, Osiris begins to turn, attempting to walk his way past the petite frame of the delightful company. "Call me whatever you would like."

"Come on, Comadre," he calls over his shoulder, quickly followed by the sudden trill of a dragon as the small reptile leaps from the branches of the trees and soars over to land upon the broad shoulders of the wolf. "Let's leave the child to play by herself."

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Almost expecting to hear a huff of displeasure from the girl, Osiris contains a ghostly smile upon his face. Amused, despite being utterly annoyed, this Yuri is the example of why the wolf does not get along well with women. In truth, however, the stallion had almost always been good with women, horrible with men. There is some theory that his gruff, exotic nature appealed to the mares in a couple of ways. First, they could experience a taboo relationship, befriending the wolf - how invigorating and exciting. Second, they placated their need to feel like a good being - befriending the weirdo.

Comadre believed that many were attracted to the dark yet kind manners of his friend. Osiris, a shining knight hidden beneath strange armor, often jumped to aid those in need. His mouth would say cruel, unhappy, unfriendly, and annoyed words, but should a pack of rabid hyenas attack the small little mare, he would almost certainly be the first to aid her. Appearing so uninterested, so mean, Osiris honestly cared about the individuals he shared this land with. He even cared for those who would shun him for the odd appearance he possessed.
A heart of gold, that is what attracted many, thought the dragon.
Osiris was fairly sure his own assessment, not that of the dragon, was the one more correct.

Still, an eye-roll follows as the enhanced hearing of the wolf captures the sound of tiny little hoofbeats snaking up behind him, a lithe frame parting grass. He does not turn his face, nor do his golden eyes glance in her direction. Yuri may as well have been talking to a wall, her voice earnest but almost placating. Osiris sighs finally, turning his head toward her. "Whatever issues you have with acting fake are none of my concern," baritone voice rich and smooth, with a strangely feral tint to each word. "The luxury of a pretty face - all it takes is a simple twist of words to change yourself."

Speaking, authoritative like a teacher to a pupil, he almost sounds gentle. "However, a true flower need not change its petals to match their company."

...who can know it?  </style>