___________________________________________________



When the painted one’s eyes level down on him his little tail twitches and his green eyes swell just a smidge. His wings readjust and he fixes his posture to seem a little less meek and small, stretching his knobby legs as tall as they are capable of stretching. When she speaks to him he seems to have no response at all for a second or two, only blinking his big wet eyes at her and then finding the he smaller lady next to her. He steps forward tentatively, the altar capturing his full attention for at least a full minute. He stops a few yards from them and peers on, switching between them and the odd obelisk.

He is silent, only the air whuffing from his tiny nostrils makes sound.

Vezér, Amaris, Kaos the God –  God?…. He builds a tower of questions in his mind while he watches the pile of curious material that is the subject of their interest. The trio stands with the oddity in the center of them, the smallest body standing off just a few steps further then the adults. Quite a curious situation he finds himself in so early on in life.  

Thrummmmm.

The colt’s dusty black body reacts first by jolting, his colorful wings spiking away from his ribs and out to brace himself. He cannot yet fly so the maneuver is all for show, something to soothe him in panic. As such a young and new citizen of Helovia and the world in gener; he’s really not quite sure what to do next. Dresden’s only choice is to fall back on instinct, to listen to the first thought that passes through his mind when once he silences his fears. He sniffs at the dirt, toward the blackened structure, not once looking toward either adult for comfort or reaction. His his whole front end feels stuck, metaphorically not literally, and so he does not move. He listens to the beckoning of the otherworldly vibrations. An unexplainable sensation crawls up through the frogs of his tea-cup feet and web through his meat and muscles. His ears swivel and pin and unpin again, his eyes do not blink. Suddenly the miniature monument of sorts begins to spew a substance – um, no. He winces, ha;lf crouching as if that would help and lets his  wings flick up, pausing all the brightly glowing droplets within ten meters of him. They do not freeze in place but rather float and spread out from him. He holds this radius of teal sparkle over the moist earth, but where  he cannot control and it freely it falls he can see the inky leafed sprouts birth from its vibrant puddles. Curious… his gaze hunts for the women, the dragony one first; what happens when it touches you…? Surely they cannot repel its spray like he can, so what will become of them? He wonders and watches with a morbid sort of curiosity, almost hoping something exciting, perhaps even destructive might happen. This is the first time he feels the thrill of danger, the rush of adrenaline. It intoxicates him, something he may grow to like later on and maybe even like it a little too much.






_______________________________

the very peculiar reptilian son of chernobyl and murdock