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A day of discovery: riveted, his scrutinizing gaze followed the movement of the sharpened needle, dangling in different directions, keen and honed, swayed and directed by invisible hands. Adelric must have had some sort of inert, inward power, capable of maintaining the lift and flight of the tiny sword, and the boy was instantly proud of his friend. Erebos had never thought or considered controlling objects, his potency and clarity came from drumming up enchantments and invocations, the spiraling, smoldering puissance of fire and wandering across oceans, tempting Poseidon. His careful examination of Adelric and his new instrument left him pondering and wondering over what he’d do with it. It was small, but Erebos never presumed anything tiny couldn’t become dangerous: maybe he could stab others with it? He tilted his head, in complex examination, meandering and puzzling through the wares, before his spotted friend informed him of its purpose: sewing flesh. The little demon shrugged, never intent on healing, mending, or rendering skin and sinew back together (after all – wasn’t warfare about scalding and maiming, ripping and tearing?), but Adelric yearned for a life of doctoring or administering soothing contortions, he wouldn’t admonish his ambitions. A smile followed suit, bright, exuberant gaze pinpointed back upon his companion, an amiable affirmation pursuing and persistent, an echoing bellow over the hot springs’ threshold. “Cool! You can control it?” The princeling didn’t tell him of his dreams, because sometimes they were frantic and filled with fire, other moments sprung together in gallant, knighthood adventures, and in the darkest threads, fueled and infused with so much iniquity he thought he’d drown in its murk. Instead, he lowered his head to smile and pat Tobias along one of his ears, briefly distracted by the friendly fawn, still feeling the yearning for his own bonded, striving and trying for an egg yet to be his. Eventually, he told himself, because he was persistent, determined, and resolute, and somehow, someway, he’d triumph. Adelric’s query brought him back to the present, and the lithe lad remembered his excitement over all the experiences he’d managed to gather and nestle in his short lifespan. Would his friend find them all intriguing? Were they worth examining? Were they as wonderful as a floating needle, a miniscule sword? He shrugged, bestowing the opportunity for the other youth to regale in them or not (but the back of his eyes glimmered, shards of the ambitious, for he loved the notion that he carried power, could one day wield it for war or crusades). Inching closer, he leaned toward the colt and drew his voice to an earnest, restless whisper, containing all of his exhilaration in one unwinding moment, leonine tail swinging back and forth, twitching and contorting. “I’ve discovered my magic!” He paused, unwound little conspiring croons, a cheeky, impish grin coiling across his lips. “Do you want to see?”
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