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03-14-2015, 05:53 PM
The boy had seen a multitude of transformations, appearances, and masquerades in his short life, and this one still had him reeling in abundant, wild curiosity, in well-tipped and dipped confusion, and then a series of excited murmurs. If his jaw dropped and became slightly unhinged, a barrage of appreciative whispers cloaking through his speech, he paid neither any mind, focused entirely on the shapes shifting before him. Where there was once an intriguing bird, now stood a girl, marked by the same skull, emboldened and encompassed with horns, with wings, with gilded eyes and other fascinating aspects. A little bewildered, a little beguiled and spellbound, Erebos closed his maw and merely stared, tilting his head from side to side in all manners of intrigue, hoping to arrive at answers before she was forthcoming. They unfolded anyway, from the same voice, from the same timbre and lilt: born this way, endowed and imbued with every essence of species imaginable. He didn’t know what this was called, what sort of morphing had taken place, how she managed to obtain all of the elements of their world (could she grasp dragons too? Stab with her swords? Embrace the wind and sky?). He was almost jealous, for a few seconds, for she’d been given and anointed, consecrated and blessed, with all sorts of treasures. However, the privileged lad knew he had been too, just in other ways (though he couldn’t change into a bird, and somewhere he felt he’d lost some grand opportunity), had lived wondrous adventures, had dived into mysteries, had clawed and fought his way through arduous tasks; being envious of another’s abilities was not gallant at all. He smiled at her, steady, assuring, obliged towards her potency, to her prowess, extending amiability where he saw fit. “Awesome.” His boyish tendencies unfurled in an impish grin, pondering over her proffered platitudes, over the woven sentiments driven through the wind and summer. How had she acquired so many rapiers along her brow, without any blood fostering the fine curves, the sharp points? The mystery was worth investigating, and his brows only furrowed slightly, attempting to deliver the only information he had on the subject. “Hm. But some portion of you must be a Unicorn, because you have horns. A lot of them.” Logic festered and brewed, all of his mother’s stories conjured, all of Zikar-Sin’s lessons composed, but the only thing truly reminding him of anything remotely similar was that of Aithniel, the girl of fire and brimstone, curling her wrath and rage into puffs and clouds of smoke. She’d been given cutlasses and feathers, had been teased and tormented by some for them, and admired by him. The blue lad would only speak well of her, diving back into devilish smiles and charismatic glances. “You’re like my friend, Aithniel. She has wings and horns too.” Perhaps she knew of her? There couldn’t be too many of them wandering Helovia’s halls, encased in finery, in passion, in power; maybe they’d met in the unfiltered wilds, beckoned by alike characteristics. He shifted along his hooves, grimacing slightly when he realized he hadn’t introduced himself (and Huyana would be displeased, what a poor display of manners), so he allowed the query to drift, amiable and amicable. “I’m Erebos. Who are you?” OOC;; --- TAG;; @[ ] |
- table by Niki -
