EREBOS

The fascination was never-ending, a constant balance of curiosity and information, locked and corded off for another moment of increased speculation; he wanted to devour and consume it all, figure out the eternal, spellbinding conundrums, he yearned to have something in his head too, to speak and listen to, and he was left to wonder, to stare, to draw unrelenting conclusions to Adelric’s information. How did the beast become intertwined so intimately, so completely, into his friend? How did they bond? How did they link together – he hadn’t seen a thing except the little fawn crack out of its shell, burst into life – had he missed their entwining? And then, another inquiry, deeper and untouched, began to flicker and flare: could he acquire something like Tobias too? Or did he have to be special, more worthy, merited and talented, like Adelric solving his puzzle? His brow contorted in bewilderment, but the zealous mind raced, untarnished and unafraid, drawn into untamed vestiges, where the nefarious, the deceitful, the courageous notions stirred desires, thriving despite the lack of clarifications. One day, he promised himself, a king of declarations and assurances, he’d be able to have a creature warranted to him and him alone, sharing trivial manners and war strategies, laughing and chuckling over the newest joke, tumbling through adventures of the mundane, of the grand, of the obsolete. Gingerly, quietly, suddenly without his usual, fierce exuberance, perhaps for fear of frightening the newly born or being driven into polite corridors, he whispered a cordial greeting, the second coming of a worthy herald. “Hello Tobias.” He lowered himself to the ground, tucking and curling his limbs beneath his blue frame, increasing his study and examination from a similar vantage point, gazing upon the little deer that would one day, undoubtedly (for Erebos held a firm conviction and belief in Adelric), grow massive, strong, capable of wielding pointed horns and defending his comrade, bounding into battle, bellowing along boundaries, and he smiled again. The images were nice, inviting, an alluring invitation into brighter futures of warriors and artisans, cloaked in daggers and emboldened scars; Adelric the chief of gentle natures and hidden talents. I can feel his feelings - shared thoughts, linking and segmenting, joining and melding, molding and sculpting through their journeys together. He thought they made a wondrous picture, a boy and his fawn, and flicked his narrowed gaze from deer to lad. “What does he say?”