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The crowd thickens, until what Volterra assumes must be ninety percent of Helovia's population has gathered around the tree to give their trinkets. Some give items of value, like the Indomitable did; some give pieces of junk they've found on the floor, which the beast hopes will earn them less favour from the turtle. Several other dragons appear too, and Volterra is glad his own companions are off hunting - it would be dreadfully tiresome to have to watch them dominating others of their species on this day of peace. Tyrath is among the gathered ones, and the beast nods to his son in greeting. The boy offers a scale from his first transformation, causing a nostalgic smile to flash across Volterra's face. Yes, he remembers it well. Then comes Vezér, her cry of Apa! causing the mammoth man's ears to pivot towards her with a warm smile on his face. She shows him what she's found, and the colossus nods approvingly. "Beautiful, dear," he rumbles, humouring her but doing a good job of disguising it. She then questions why Tyrath is calling him Apa too, and Volterra's innards give an involuntary squirm - this is not really the ideal time to introduce his newest child. "Vezér," comes his warning growl as he steps towards her, gently touching his muzzle to her flank. "That is your half-brother, Tyrath. I am his Apa too." He looks to Tyrath then. "Tyrath, your newest sister, Vezér. As you can see, she has her father's attitude." Or is it her mother's fire? He looks fondly between the two children, feeling warmth surge through the blackened depths of his heart. Finally, gifts are given. The stallion receives a totem, a handsome dragon which he sniffs with interest when it lands near to him. It's a beautiful piece of craftsmanship, and he gathers it in his mouth to tuck it into his mane. He prays it will bring him further luck - not that he needs it, his considerably physical prowess is enough to outweigh any lucky trinket. He dips his massive head in thanks to the turtle, then slips forwards to retrieve Gashad's skull. The behemoth does not entirely trust some of the gathered horses enough to believe they won't attempt to steal his precious object from out beneath his nose, and whilst he knows he would be able to annihilate any who tried such a trick, it would probably sour the mood at the tree to shed blood on such a peaceful day. With his mask replaced upon his face, his crimson eyes glaring out of the blackened skull like rubies from the depths of a corpse, the leviathan can take a step back. He watches proceedings with interest, listening to the turtle and wondering what his next move will be. I'M LIVING LIKE A LANDMINE WAITING TO EXPLODE I'M TICKING LIKE A TIME BOMB READY TO GO |
Speaks to @Tyrath and @Vezér
[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]
