The moon was watching down on Mornandum that night, such a fierce gaze from such a tiny sliver of white. It was watching like it knew something, knew someone, knew him. The moon was invincible in it’s fortress of darkness, darkness that was supposed to be Mornandum’s ally. It was a pallid and lifeless crescent yet somehow the sight of it filled him with emotions that he couldn’t quite force back down into the depths. Mornandum found himself despising the moon’s placid hostility.
She would probably be having pups soon. She might have already had them as far as Mornandum knew. Pups. His pups. His Princess, the stars in his sky and his pups. His genetic legacy. Mornandum heard a strange sound echoing against the empty trees. Laughter. His own laughter. When had he started laughing? Mornandum wasn’t certain and wasn’t certain that it mattered. His offspring. His spawn. He should have left the stars untouched in their glittering purity. Now instead of light he had employed them to spread darkness- His darkness.
Mornandum’s jaw dropped open and a rattling hiss escaped with his breath. He’d destroy the little darklings. Consume them back into himself so that the darkness would be contained. Make the world safer for all the cute little furry denizens of it, so they’d only have one Mornandum to deal with and not many little ones.
He reared back on his hind legs, wings spread, and added voice to his hiss. He would fly on the night’s wind to the night’s progeny. The only force that could stop him would be another elder and he would gladly do battle if it meant eating the poison before it could spread or strengthen another. He would-
The small slip of a moon passed into darkness behind a cloud.
Mornandum fell back onto all four legs again. He was himself. Mornandum. Dragonfly. Elder. Nothing else. But even as he thought that mantra his scriptures fluttered in the weak breeze, his glasses reflected dim starlight, the cloth around his forearms kept off the biting insects. He could call himself a dragonfly, even to the point of breeding with another... but that didn’t make him one. Not when the moon still incensed him so and while he wore the marks of their culture upon him. Not when after all that, thoughts of
her were still manipulating his actions and stealing his rational thoughts away. He weaved his head back and forth in self-deprecation and pity. He was a pathetic “monster” after all.
He looked back up to where the moon threatened to emerge from behind its cover. If he couldn’t be himself away from the forest and wasn’t himself on the fringe of it... maybe he could find himself a little deeper. He would fly himself into the wild depths of Di’jai until his head stopped buzzing with thoughts that weren’t his own. Then perhaps he’d return to the fringe and see what became of his fatherless children. Mornandum took off as quiet as a ghost and was soon flying over treetop and river towards where the horizon faded into green. As he adjusted his course by the stars overhead, a small smile played across his features. Motherhood would suit his Princess well, that he was sure of. It might actually instill some sensibility into the creature.
Her transformation, his pups, Mornandum would return to them in time to see what had become of them. And Keskiyo, him too. Mornandum felt a flash of something that was almost guilt when he thought of his adopted child. He should have warned Slit about Keskiyo, but she would find out soon enough. Either that or she’d find out too late.
He wondered which.
~~
Keskiyo crashed through the underbrush, eyes wide with panic and rage. His father... where had he gone? He hadn’t seen him for several entire days now. He couldn’t be hurt. He knew that his father was far too strong for that. It had to be something else. It had to be... her. Her. The one whose scent he had caught on his father’s fur that one morning. He could still remember that scent as if she was sitting in front of him. He’d find her. He’d find her and make her pay for taking his father away from him.
He couldn’t see well in the darkness and the stars were too faint to give him much light. If only the moon would come out from behind the clouds... then he could see his path! Then he could go more quickly to where he knew his father and the creature he was going to tear apart were! He wasn’t going to be just satisfied with the ears like he had told Keita he would. He wasn’t going to stop until he had ripped her limb from limb!
He could smell her now. The smell was getting stronger and stronger. It wouldn’t be long. He was getting close. It’d be soon. It’d be-
She was a bright glow in the darkness, her white fur and her....
Fluttering green paper. Keskiyo had only seen something like one before. On his father’s shoulders. She wore scriptures like him. That inquisitive glint in her eye was like him. The way she stood, smelled, breathed... it was all like him. She was Mornandum’s daughter in a way that he could never be Mornandum’s son.
Keskiyo shook with rage. He couldn’t stand it. He wouldn’t allow it. No one was allowed to be closer to Mornandum than he was. No one.
By the time the white pup realized the danger it was too late. Her mother arrived to find her torn, bloody, but breathing.
Keskiyo had run off into the forest. Alone. 
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