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He has asked, and now she answers, patiently explaining that her fire is not somehow better than any other, but is simply fire, burning and dangerous. The ghoul is disappointed, but he tries his best to hide it, not wanting to upset the golden angel. She seems calm enough about her gift however, saying it doesn't make her special and informing him that there are others with more impressive magic. He is confused, for how can having magic not make someone important, even if her herdmates wield it as well? Does their magic somehow make Aurelia lesser? He doesn't understand, but herd dynamics have always eluded him, the different ranks and rules messing with his head. Well, he supposes, not the existence of such things, but rather the subtle things behind them, the way members can rise and fall in importance, as though they are better than the rest just because they possess a skill the others do not. Would not the herd fall, should those 'lesser' members disappear? And how can members be demoted, as though one slip-up can suddenly erase all of their experience and skill and make them expendable?
Aurelia had encouraged him to ask questions, but he doesn't think she will understand his unusual, twisted, philosophical way of looking at things.
Her next words, however, give him slight hope. She seems to want him to meet her herd, promising that he will come to no harm, and surely at least one of them will have the answers he seeks. At the very least he will be able to observe things for himself, to watch and ponder, to learn something, even if it's not what he came for.
Maybe they'll even have some new stories for him to collect and tell to his tiny bone hoard.
So he nods hesitantly, letting a small smile spread over his inky lips. "I'd like that," he tells her, making certain that she understands. Her muzzle brushes his shoulder, and he smiles again, reaching out his own maw to lip at her mane, if she will let him.
Kissing death and losing my breath
Slaiter
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