night lurker.

The man would press through the night with an agile but leisurely gait. His steps were always quiet and his body was always pressed against the moonlit shade. He spent most days tending to his children, understanding that his presence was needed because in the end Medusa had been true to herself and could not love them. Deteste loved the small beings in an endearing fashion but was certain to distance himself from them as they grew for they would be their own individuals soon and he would not smother then regardless of the path they chose for he now realized that parents had little say in that choice. Now. Now Deteste found himself taking a wide patrol about the den, dipping into other territories and stumbling upon the wind carved caves before him. Even now the seasons continued their work for the winter breeze howled into that emptiness.



He would enter the caves seeking the freshly filtered water upon it's damp, rock floor. But once the man's thirst was quenched he was drawn further into the darkness without a reason clearly known to him. Perhaps he was attracted to the absolute darkness before him. Thickest in a winter night where the moon was but a sliver. Perhaps he sensed Basilisk in that darkness, the young man's breath damp and constant was the water that thudded against the cave floor. There was light yet in the depths of the cave. Deteste could make out sharp black walls and the grey forms of stray rocks and mineral formations. But there was little light for his eyes to reflect before him and to the company he had yet to stumble upon his gaze would be a dull blue upon a ghost's body.



It was not long before the distance was closed between them. Basilisk's iridescent pelt outlined his phantom form in a pale, violet light. Deteste was not surprised to see the boy fabricate from the hollow darkness and thought it ironic that they would meet in such circumstances again. He had yet no judgement for Basilisk. Perhaps he would be form one now. For the boy was full grown and his ways were being set. "Hello Basilisk." He would speak softly realizing that the cave would amplify his voice. His timbre was unwavering but not firm. And as breath returned from him after the statement Deteste would be greeted by the smell of Basilisk's sickness, company and travel. He would not fall into the temptation of curiosity but keep a perspective limited to what the boy wanted him to see. He owed him that much for he had advised Jupiter upon her death match with Kaios. He would never take lightly to sharing the skill of taking life. Even if it were not he doing it.