Mohg does not like to be far from anyone.
He is not anxious about it.
He just prefers closeness.
The quiet assurance of being near enough to matter.
When the day begins to end
and the light lowers,
Mohg stays close.
Closer than usual.
The sun noticed this.
It saw how Mohg followed at an unhurried pace,
how he lingered when others moved on,
how he chose proximity over progress.
As the sun sank,
it pulled the light sideways.
Not down.
Out.
So shadows could reach farther
than bodies could.
They stretched across the ground,
along walls,
over paths and doorways.
They arrived before you did.
That way, even when Mohg could not sit beside everyone,
his shadow could.
So now, at dusk,
shadows grow long.
They touch each other.
They cross paths.
They hold hands briefly
before the light goes.
They are not trying to scare anyone.
They are not warning signs.
They are reminders
that closeness does not end
just because the day does.
Pebble races through the long shadows without noticing them.
She always has somewhere to be.
Mohg watches his shadow stretch ahead of him
and follows it
at his own pace.
That is why shadows stretch at dusk.
So no one has to feel alone
when the light begins to leave.
