Sunsets, in face, were not all red and bleeding crimson as how the dozens of books Nezumi had read had described them. They were quiet more abstract than that, as Nezumi crouched, elbow propped up on one knee and nestled between the large rocks of a sloping hill; overlooking the massive wall of fire while it slumped behind the moors and few groves positioned across it.

The clouds were stripped down to wispy and stretched-out lengths, and were a dark, lavender-like purple. Their lower half's rimmed with a rosy peach as the sun descended; pulsing out gentle waves of creams, peaches, and even sandyish yellow. It was quite alarming for Nezumi, as he watched the ball of fire drop behind the horizon–that the sunset did in fact, create a rainbow. An actual damn rainbow. The brilliant irisdecant braid of light began in the center, a vibrant tangerine orange that gradually melted into a lighter, cream shade. Then going from a daisy yellow and a faint, lime-green, this color barley visible between the orange and the blue–melted into the pale blue until finally disappearing into the starry night sky.

It didn't last for the whole show however, much to Nezumi's disappointment as the sunset and the night began to clash like avenging angels; obscuring the delicate middle colors from view and the blackness finally settling around the dark-haired man–and he could finally relax.

Though the extravagant sunset bestowing him with its dying presence like the final dying breath like a sputtering car, the darkness was his true lover. And although the sunset could provide him with its rare, guilty pleasures, the darkness would constantly remain firm and everlasting until the end. The sun would always rise and set in the same goddamn place. Shadows and blackness would circle his body, wrap him in its cacoon, where wouldn't have to cower in the sunlight like the rat he was named for.

However, these same shadows still seemed to laugh in his face whenever he found himself in their holding. Jeering and leering at him, constantly reminding him of the foggy, moonless night he had deserted the specific white-haired lover of his.

Nezumi let out a gruff sigh, and pausing his inner monologue to lean back against the rock he had settled on, repositioning his small pack that survey as a cushion for his aching neck and back.

Don't think about it right now, Nezumi...the man told himself tiredly while stretching a hand to rest behind his head, holding back a well-deserved yawn like a cat. Get some sleep now, and you can reminiscent about the dumb ass in the morning...

As he soon grew too exhausted to comprehend what little thoughts passed threw his pony-tailed head, and he closed his eyes.

Seabirds.

Though there was no sign of an ocean nearby, or even within a twenty-mile radius at that, he was still dimly aware of them squawking nosily overhead, as they circled lazily around him like a flock of hungry puppies all scrabbling their way over eachother for a treat.

It was strange too, that he was comparing birds to dogs, and rats to cats; not unlike a familiar though rather obnoxious keeper of canines. Hm...Seems you're getting too soft, Nezumi. Took you this long for Shion to rub off on you, eh? Now your even beginning to sound like Inukashi...he thought as he finally began to drift off to sleep.

What a stupid little bastard you turned out to be...