Logan rubbed his eyes for quick reconfirmation, then stared right at her.
Her hair was a brilliant gold, fluttering even across the deep night skies. Accompanying its glimmer was her pure, white eyes that reflected all that they gazed upon.
Her skin, pale in complexion, vibrated with a warmth that drew Logan in—even in the dark. This extended to her body, long and willowy from her clear past of impoverishment, yet she still stood tall all the same.
Then, Logan noticed the boy to her left. He was rugged, muddied, and rasp. Each breath was another throaty moan, yet, he didn't look particularly unhappy.
"That must be you," Pixel affirmed, pushing her hand in the kid's direction. It passed through him lightly, turning his surrounding skin translucent. "Passes through. Figures."
Logan's throat grumbled as he paced back, hands clenched. He bit back the words caught in his mouth, feeling the violent emotion hiding just behind them—waiting for their release.
