((/leaps upon blog like a madwoman. I'll be usingXxX if you don't mind c: ))

Oh night, blanket of the sky, and all who run and play and sleep beneath it.
What is it? more than anyone could ever hope to see, certainly.
But people's eyes are weak, are they not?

The night sky is dainty in the day, delicate, walking upon frail legs, hooves never laying against the ground, only the tips support it upon the earth, made slow by the hardened night sky upon its head.
And yet it does not seem to mind.

A soft melancholy is the air it bears in the daylight hours, in this form, starry eyes so dull.
Not a sound is made as it walks, it doesn't need to make noise, why would it?
its head is not held high, and yet it is not held low, it is simply held.

its ears hang, even when sound reaches, they merely turn outwards, never do they lift.
a stray moth lands upon it, then another, floating dreamily beside the being for a while before leaving once more, as if simply greeting what they look forward to early.

Fur ripples, though there appears to be very little muscle mass really, as if he is supported not by flesh and bone, but by liquid and air.

After a while it settles, slowly lowering itself to the ground with a quiet breath, eyes half closed, but still so alert.

The starry eyes did not move, no movement at all truly save for the soft deep breathing of the night coloured being.
"Greetings" its muzzle did not seem to move, no voice etched from its throat into the sunlit' air, rather, it was the air itself, the sky, ad everything below it.

And yet, it was so soft, almost a whisper, yet so easy to hear.
its ears slowly turned, a pendulum, back and forth for a moment before stopping, at last it turned its head up, horns scraping small lines into the earth below.

It did not seem to mind the fire, the heat, but rather simply continued to look up, a small, nearly invisible smile flowing over its lips, hardly there at all, peaceful.
Perfectly at ease.

The being's head lowered again as the lord sat, its eyes returning to their half closed state, like twin stars obscured by heavy clouds.
his ears stilled, only moving if the breeze chose to caress them now.

"we are all very different" the voice resounded, placid and content, warm, yet, cool, like the soothing of a damp cloth upon a burn.

"some of us are simply more different than others" the voice continued slowly, never a need for rushing in the daylight hours.

"Heaven and Hell are subjective" it said simply, looking up slowly, head weighted down by the sky itself, eyes of starlight turning upon the other, such innocence, in those eyes, in that being, more than virgin snow or newborn babe.

"we make our own heaven" its lips moved with those words and yet, it was strange, not in sync, words coming but a moment before the movement, as if someone were playing out of sync sound over a video.

The being simply smiled, it was always smiling, it could not hate, could not feel malice.
"Heaven is the place your heart is with joy" its head slowly hung again, ears slowly swinging again.

"Hell, is to give up hope" the ethereal creature's head turned up to gaze at the sky, both effortless and strained, all at once.
"I do not believe...in angels...in demons...they are simply words...simply titles...meaningless" his final word seemed to trail off, as if plucked away by the wind.

It smiled again, slowly, everything about it was slow.
"The sky, sees, everything..." ears swinging again.
back forth
back forth.

"and judges not" its voice rolled, like a blanket of stars and velvet over the air.
"what might the sky call you?" it asked, head tilting for a moment, as if unable to bear the burden upon its head before regaining itself.

it nodded, a slow movement of its head, like a leaf bobbing upon frothing water.
"Valturez, it is then" its head dipped, almost as if asleep, and yet, still very much awake, the wind rippling its fur like breeze over the surface of a lake.
"the sun is high" its voice hummed, no movement, merely sound.

"and so, I have come to be known as Devokara" it exhaled deeply, and did not seem to inhale again.

"but names, are simply, sound...I am whatever you wish to call me by..." it turned its head up at last, with what seemed to be great effort, and even then, the horns atop its head bound it down, and it could not look fully towards the heavens.

"The sky. and nothing more" it whispered.

"not even gods know everything" it rasped softly, it sounded, almost as if it should have been painful to speak, whispering, melancholy voice.
"the sky is the most difficult, thing to understand" its head rocked foreward again, weighed down, only to rise back.
"and the most simple thing you will find"