Kyna wished then, as she swept her eyes, so longingly blue, into her father's fierce ones that he would revitalize or somehow change things. How could someone so young find an ounce of good behind wildfire irises and dark shadows? She could only see what the moon's light would allow of his gaze - and it was a twisted, red-eyed snarl. The light bleached his teeth dangerously sharp and bristled the ends of his ghastly coat. What Kyna saw, bowing up before her very mother, was a monster.
The small, honeyed girl jolted up under her mother's belly with a shrill yelp, struggling to find her way through the den's entrance. She skirted halfway into the bulky wall before plummeting down into the darkest, safest depths she could. With her heart racing the speed of sound, Kyna could just hear the distorted exchange of her mother and the tail end of her father's haunting snarl in the concussion of it all. She felt safe in the black, warm reality of the den. It was once her birthplace, and for some reason that night, twice. She felt rudely awakened to her new reality, one darker than what birth was, one stranger to her than before. As her heartbeat steadied into a swift, but manageable pulse she thought to herself one thing only: my father is a monster, my father is a monster...
There is a monster outside of here and he is at our door.
The voices continued, and time was negligible. She didn't know what her mother was saying but it sounded strong and protective. But noting could erase what those powdery eyes saw: a hellish, menacing monster. A transformation, a metamorphosis of what could have - should have bloomed into beautiful trust, wickedly winced into sickening aversion. Kyna's breath came in gulps and her eyes watered unknowingly in the black security. What she didn't know was that this darkness and remote warmth within it would forever be her place of security.