just because the fog is there
He wasn’t lost.
Not exactly.
Vesper’s boots moved quietly over the soft grass of Meadowreach, the earth pliant beneath his steps and blanketed in a riot of blooming flowers that caught in the wind and his boots alike. Twilight painted the world in slow gradients of lavender and gold, the horizon dissolving into stars at the edges, and even he had to admit—it was almost disgustingly peaceful.
His shadows didn’t like it. They curled lazily at his heels, slow and aimless, like snakes too full to strike. Not even the usual hum of unseen predators stirred around him, which only made the hairs on the back of his neck lift. Predators didn’t avoid places for no reason.
And yet here he was, traveling through this pastel postcard on his way to something far less wholesome: the House of Midnight. Vesper had never been, but he’d heard whispers—rooms shaped by Frey’s magic, a loft tucked away for more professional dealings, and more than a few patrons who'd be worth listening to with a drink in hand. Curiosity had gotten the better of him, and now, here he was, tracing the edge of the meadow where starlight kissed the petals and the scent of wildflowers clung to his skin.
He caught the sound of hooves first—steady, deliberate, not fleeing. A working pace. Then the jingle of tack, the faint rasp of leather, the silhouette of a rider cresting a low roll of meadow. Vesper slowed, hands loose at his sides, expression unreadable but alert.
His gaze flicked over the figure: a woman on a bay, her posture sharp and sure even in the fading light, eyes scanning the herd grazing nearby. Rancher, clearly. Not someone he’d met before. Still, something in her focus made him speak, voice low and even as he stepped just into the glow of twilight, where the stars hadn’t quite claimed him yet. "You lookin’ for someone?" he asked, casually, like he hadn’t just emerged from a bed of wildflowers with shadow wrapped around his ankles. His gaze lifted to the unicorns beyond her. "Or just out enjoyin' the view?"
Not exactly.
Vesper’s boots moved quietly over the soft grass of Meadowreach, the earth pliant beneath his steps and blanketed in a riot of blooming flowers that caught in the wind and his boots alike. Twilight painted the world in slow gradients of lavender and gold, the horizon dissolving into stars at the edges, and even he had to admit—it was almost disgustingly peaceful.
His shadows didn’t like it. They curled lazily at his heels, slow and aimless, like snakes too full to strike. Not even the usual hum of unseen predators stirred around him, which only made the hairs on the back of his neck lift. Predators didn’t avoid places for no reason.
And yet here he was, traveling through this pastel postcard on his way to something far less wholesome: the House of Midnight. Vesper had never been, but he’d heard whispers—rooms shaped by Frey’s magic, a loft tucked away for more professional dealings, and more than a few patrons who'd be worth listening to with a drink in hand. Curiosity had gotten the better of him, and now, here he was, tracing the edge of the meadow where starlight kissed the petals and the scent of wildflowers clung to his skin.
He caught the sound of hooves first—steady, deliberate, not fleeing. A working pace. Then the jingle of tack, the faint rasp of leather, the silhouette of a rider cresting a low roll of meadow. Vesper slowed, hands loose at his sides, expression unreadable but alert.
His gaze flicked over the figure: a woman on a bay, her posture sharp and sure even in the fading light, eyes scanning the herd grazing nearby. Rancher, clearly. Not someone he’d met before. Still, something in her focus made him speak, voice low and even as he stepped just into the glow of twilight, where the stars hadn’t quite claimed him yet. "You lookin’ for someone?" he asked, casually, like he hadn’t just emerged from a bed of wildflowers with shadow wrapped around his ankles. His gaze lifted to the unicorns beyond her. "Or just out enjoyin' the view?"
don't mean nothing's behind it
☆ has a pale star tattoo beneath his left eye, and freckle-sized constellations move across his skin
☽ hair changes from bleached blonde to brown
☆ telepathic: Sunlit Shadows | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 60ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
☽ hair changes from bleached blonde to brown
☆ telepathic: Sunlit Shadows | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 60ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
