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Oniria 

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The morning sun peeked from behind the clouded veil of sky, dancing through the mist in glittering fractals. It was something he'd noticed away from the misted peaks of Jakten — there was far more sun. For some reason, Mistveil held some sort of otherworldly power that seemed to absorb the rays of light.

Part of him missed the eternal darkness ... the mist that camouflaged him and clung to him like a second skin.

But it would seem he didn't miss it enough to hurry home. Instead, he persisted, treading through the misted fields and comfortably lingering under the canopy of trees. He would phase in and out of visibility as his large paws moved his cumbersome frame with practiced ease. The silence was numbing, erasing the echoes of fading memories in the back of his mind.

The more he was away from it, the more he wanted to forget it. It. His life. His past. His failures. His family. His everything. Perhaps he could just live his life in the comfortable silence. Perhaps he could live like the mist.

A slanted smile slithered up the edges of his dark lips. He was all but invisible, other than the otherworldly blue glow that emanated from his scars.

And he knew .... he knew that could not be true. For eventually, the beast would grow hungry.

The revenant would need something to haunt.

---

She had convinced herself that finding him would feel different, there'd be relief maybe, closure. Some grand unraveling of the knot she'd carried in her chest since she left. Instead, when his scent finally drifted through the mist, she froze and her heart stopped first. Then it slammed back into motion hard enough to hurt.

No. The thought was a sharp sting, No, no, no. Because she knew that scent. Every mile she'd traveled, every stranger she'd questioned, every disappointment she'd swallowed, every dead end she'd forced herself through. All of it led here. The wolf standing beneath the trees remained unaware, half hidden by the drifting fog that curled around his legs. He was older, and larger like herself. Marked by scars she didn't recognize; but she would have known him anywhere.

Draugur... a broken word escaped her even as she stood rigid among the grass staring as though looking away might make him disappear. She'd imagined this meeting a thousand different ways, maybe she'd be angry, maybe she'd accuse him, or be triumphant in finally finding him? None of those survived the reality. All that remained was a little sister who had spent months chasing a ghost.

I looked everywhere for you, she managed roughly, she couldn't seem to breathe properly. Every wound she'd spent years stitching shut threatened to split open at once bringing her ebon ears flattened. Carefully Oniria took a single hesitant step forward, followed by another as fear and hope warred so violently within her she felt sick. What the hell happened to you? the question cracked beneath the weight of her guilt.

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Oniria 

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"Draugur."

His name.

It drifted toward him, wrapping gently around the base of the ears. Like this mist, it threatened evaporation ... waning in volume the moment it tempted him with the sound. And the beast would rumble, an awakening from somewhere deep within as his ears pressed back against his head. Who could know him? Better yet, who would want to?

Hackles would splinter, raising upon broad shoulders as something defensive and primal in him swelled.

And then, the moment it peaked ... it melted.

Heat became ice. And those tormented eyes became unreadable plates of steel. And for a moment, he would know what it felt like to be haunted. And it awoke something within him. Oni. Another name. A nickname. It rumbled from dry lips as his ears pressed forward, giant paws heavy on the soft, forgiving earth as he moved nearer to catch her scent. His nostrils sniffed, his expression softening. But there was still something feral behind those ichor-laced eyes.

"I looked everywhere for you. What the hell happened to you?"

Monsters are everywhere. It was a simple explanation, a guttural rumble from his throat. I thought ... The words caught in his throat. He thought she was gone. Missing. Dead.

Like Lithe. Like Ivandri.
His Oni.

A snarl wound up the sides of his lips, his own failure coiling painfully and twisting into anger. There was something horrible writhing within him, the joy of his reunion stained by the misunderstanding of his past. Of the things he believed to be his fault. His sins.

He was the monster, wasn't he?

And suddenly, he feared for her.
He feared he would hurt her.

You should stay away from me. His voice swelled like the threat of a thunderstorm behind a veil of distant clouds.

---

She hadn't heard that name in years.

Oni.

The nickname struck harder than hearing her own name ever could. It cracked straight through the armor she'd spent years forging, dragging memories to the surface before she could stop them. For one impossible heartbeat, she wasn't the hardened woman she'd become. She was his little sister again.

She watched him draw closer, watched recognition settle across features worn thin by hardship. He looked older than he should, tired in a way sleep could never mend. Those strange, glowing scars caught her eye, but it was his expression that rooted her in place. She knew that look, seen it reflected in herself.

His words landed with a quiet finality that chilled her more than any winter wind, followed by the sentence that died before it could live and she knew exactly how it ended. I know... voice barely above a whisper. ....so did I Silence stretched between them until he spoke again and when he sought to push her away something inside her recoiled. A bitter laugh escaping her then, she shook her head once, ears flattening as she took another cautious step. Don't do that, she insisted.

I told myself I'd come back, her voice found its resolve if only for a moment, I thought if I could just get away first... I'd find a way to get you out too, and she hadn't stopped trying. But every day I was gone... it got harder, Harder to return, to face what she'd done, to believe he'd even want to see her again.

If you want someone to blame... she said quietly, ...blame me. her tail remained low, her posture small in a way few had ever seen.

But I won't leave, I've already done that once.

A long silence followed before she met his haunted gaze without flinching.

I'm not making that mistake again

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Oniria 

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She wasn't here.

She couldn't be here.

His jaw hitched, his eyes blooming with pain as his tongue traced teeth. And he would snarl, because that was what he knew. And he was angry, because that was what he understood. Anger felt good. Felt natural. Felt real.

Oni.

Oniria.

His sister. A piece of him. He felt it. He felt her — her presence, pressed against his chest. And he hated it, detesting her closeness with a soft scowl. She — Oni — was the only one of them who had been brave enough to leave. To escape without looking back.

"Every day I was gone... it got harder."

She didn't need him.
He didn't need her.

Stop it, he'd warn her, his voice rough and hidden beneath a veil.

"If you want someone to blame ... blame me."

Something snapped. And he snarled.

I said stop it! His voice would rise, higher than anything he'd ever offered before as he drew toward her with fangs. Open. Ready. Hungry. He was on her before he realized it, fangs wrapping around her throat ... but they did not close on her, no, they simply hovered. He did not want to hurt her, but it was all he could fathom to do. He was feral. Broken.

And if he hurt her, she would leave him before she could be stolen again.

"I won't leave, I've already done that once."

No. No. She would go. She was not here. And she would go, as she did before. Oni, he would start, breath hot against her neck. He could practically taste her, his teeth touching the edges of her neck. Oh ... he wanted to dig in. He wanted to taste her, to see perhaps if it was something akin to what he was missing.

But his eyes burned, and his fangs faltered against her skin.

Go. Again. Just ... leave me.

His teeth trembled, finally releasing her.

He wanted her to leave. He urged Oniria to forget. She was better without him. The world was better without him. He was just a virus ... lurking in the shadows. And he would withdraw his fangs to himself, snarling as he cast a glance towards his sister. He hoped she would forget him.

But he would never forget her.

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The snarl shattered the fragile stillness between them, she barely had time to register the movement before he was on her. Every instinct screamed for her to fight the desire to survive surging to the surface as his weight closed the distance and his fangs settled against her throat. Her body went rigid, muscles coiled to strike back if she had to. But...there was nothing. His teeth never closed.

She felt the heat of his breath against her neck the faint tremor running through his jaw, the hesitation he couldn't hide. He wasn't even trying to hurt her, he was trying to make her leave.

When he finally pulled away urging her to go Oniria wouldn't move an inch, wouldn't entertain the thought of retreat. Instead, she stared at him with an expression that shifted from hurt into something far more familiar. No The word came quietly, but there was steel beneath it.

No, I'm done listening to that,

She took another deliberate step toward him, refusing the distance he'd tried so desperately to create. Her tail lashed behind her, ears pinning flat against her skull as anger finally found its way through the grief tightening her chest. You think I don't know what you're doing? You think if you bare your teeth, snarl loud enough and convince yourself you're some kind of monster, I'll turn around and make it easy for you? a bitter laugh escaped her devoid of humor.

Her jaw tightened, You don't get to decide for me that I'm better off without you, no one gets to decide for me — not anymore.

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