Out of the eaves of the forest, the shadows only lengthen. Deeper through the unending dark of Helheim, further than even Hela knows, the graves of the departed are emptying - the overflowing dread encompasses the void. It goes here. It breathes here.
The Faceless One.
Malekith followed the strained path through the forest, though at times it seemed as slender as the fingers grasping at his ankles. They were crying for something, for mercy perhaps? But the King of Svartalfheim would be the last to grant it, scorching away their advances with a sneer and a sly malice building underneath his skin.
The air seemed colder, shorter. He found it appealing. Just like home. His magic worked here in tandem with the shroud of dark permeating the entire realm. A faint smile crept to his face each time the tips of his fingers unleashed a torrent of it, and a wider one still as it burned into the very souls of those who were trapped here. In all of reality, a place such as this just seemed entertaining to him. In his twisted mind, he could see himself living here quite happily.
But then the Beast crept upon him.
The treeline dissolved into a clearing. Malekith tilted his head in a curious manner, the observations gleaned from the display making him all the more attracted to dealing with the creature presented before him. Much to the chagrin of the haunted who have yet to be turned into prey, the Laughing God placed his hands together - and began the music of applause. It shook the silence free of its boughs of terror, and plunged them into the wider depths of complete lunacy. At length, Malekith even elected a cackle or two.
"You want to eat me, don't you?" his eyes returned the coal-black stare, and he dared to move forward - closer to the 'stag'. It drew itself as a monstrous beast, rising higher and higher, until its broken maw was on-level with the Dark Elf, face-to-face. Malekith held no fear, but rather a morbid curiosity.
He swept aside some of the drool with a thumb, evaporating it in a sizzling display of his powerful magic. His fanged teeth would expose themselves further; perhaps this tantalized Ezra even more, this closeness and expression of sorcery.
"I have come to bargain with you, Horned God," he inched closer. "Or, perhaps, you knew that already?"