[He sees the offer from under his palms. His living hand twitches, almost like he's thinking of moving it from its place where his fingers are threaded through tendrils of shadow. In that same whisper, with a denial that's much less certain:]
No—
[Zekarion flees. As he turns, he dissipates into mist and seeps into the shadows between every paving stone and in the holes his presence has left in the concrete.
The weight of the darkness and in the air belongs only to the Black Beast then.]
no subject
No—
[Zekarion flees. As he turns, he dissipates into mist and seeps into the shadows between every paving stone and in the holes his presence has left in the concrete.
The weight of the darkness and in the air belongs only to the Black Beast then.]