“too many mirrors in the dark” she says, her voice so haunting as it ripples away from each thrown pebble.
those ripples tease my fur, make me lift my head and taste the air for the sound of her weariness, for the tang of her fear. i will stalk it, hunt it, and make the fear know fear.
with a soft chuff i would allay your troubled soul, curl you within and shield you from those ghosts. with one roar they would flee before me. with the baring of my fangs they shall cower.
let my eyes be your candle. my golden eyes reflected manifold in the mirrors of your memories revealing the beauty and wonder in your life, and keeping the shadows at bay.