The moon had always held power. It was an ancient, mysterious thing that frightened primitive peoples because they did not understand it. Stolen light and magnetic force pulled the whole of the earth to it. He recognized that it had changed her. Somehow, too, he understood. He was not a creature made of stone, as Anu had once told him. His blood pumped hot and his eyes gleamed with that same stolen light as the moon.
A scratching noise made her presence all the more real. She walked, in and out of the shadows, and he followed her as a monster once had. His scarred face did its best to hide the concern—yet it too looked feral, bestial in the half-light. “These aren’t my lands,” he offered her. Though displeased she could so easily read him, he did not allow this to show. “I think a shadow found its way into your soul,” he continued. He thought of Haku, and heard the madman’s laughter. Perhaps he too was cursed.
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