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Decades had passed since that night, since the last time such a pristine white hide had found itself in the woods wherein the trees grew tall and dark, leafless and dead.
The monster that stalked the grounds sighed softly as spatters of rain fell down.
He could remember warmly, the falling of hoofbeats beside him. His only equal in the world, his only love, his only warmth.
A warmth, he thought bitterly, that burned him as any untended flame would.
Many moons previously, perhaps he had seen a future with the kindly creature.
But now, the beast saw only misery.
Did he ever even love him?
Slender didn't know.
Chiron had looked upon humanity with a kindness that he'd never seen before. Many in his place were impartial to humans - others outright hating the species entirely.
Slender only found a mild distaste for most.
…the only exceptions being those rare few that could see the world for what it truly was, and that he could find a use for. Those that served him well.
He wore a long dark coat, tightening it around himself as the rain beat harder against him, chills running through his body. Invisible brows furrowed deeper as long fingers dragged across a carving. Etched into the ancient wood of a tree that had once blossomed with life before rotting into… what it now was.
He'd done it with his own bare claws, a naive promise of eternity to the one soul who could not give him that.
When duty and responsibility proved to be too important to the centaur, things ended.
He couldn't name all of the emotions bubbling up inside of him. All he could do, as he slashed and carved at the tree, tearing the brittle husk of life to shreds, was be thankful that raindrops looked so much like tears.
It wasn't meant to last. He knew it well. His nature was far too territorial. He wouldn't have been able to hold another beast in his woods for so long. Hell, he can barely handle his brood of siblings at times, and they're the closest connection he's still got.
…the numbness of loneliness was kinder than the ache of Chiron's absence. His memory haunted him, luring him into the crevices of his mind with sweet promises of a rose-tinted yesterday.
1923; he was in a human disguise - they both were, hidden from mortal scum by the mist.
Rain beat against the windows of the bar, some underground joint where people looked the other way. What went on in the dark was nobody's business.
Sometimes, Chiron was the first to enter - his chair wheeled in and waiting by the fire.
Other times, he would be first, opening the door for his dear friend like a gentleman and waiting in the cold weather outside for him.
In such a quiet, secluded - seedy place, a man could share a drink and more with his childhood friend; his wife would never need to know. And a pair of monsters could split a bottle of whisky - one spiked with nectar, the other with nightshade - without any questions. Their fingers had inched closer, interlocking beneath the bar where nobody could see, where nobody knew, and nobody needed to. They knew what it was, as the liquor spilled down their gullets. They knew what lay between them.
It never mattered what soaked the bottle, whether a bitter sting was left between their lips or a sweet aftertaste that would be sickly come the morning.
All that mattered was that, in the warmth of the candlelight, neither monster wrapped in a black coat was alone. They had home with each other, free from responsibilities and duty, devoted solely to each other.
But it wasn't meant to last.
…the past was sickening at times, leaving a bad taste in Slender's non-existent mouth. The rain kept time with his steps, masking his silent sobs of grief and sorrow to the world. He could excuse it with the ache in his ancient bones.
Nobody needed to know his sorrow, or the pain that came from worlds unfamiliar crossing paths.