Sikeax,

For a moment, the world goes back in time, letting Sikeax remember the sweet smells of cherry blossoms, the pink petals that always seemed to be in abundance when the wind blew with just enough force, a glowing but slowly dying crown of flowers that she had made from the flowers in the Heart caves. Rikyn, who she had tried to call Ry and had been corrected to Ryn, is still a small, frail boy when she is trying to find herself a woman when she is still a child, struggling with the mess of feelings, guilt, and regret that came from things she couldn’t remember, and still can’t remember.
But those things have left her mind now, no longer an issue she has to face. Altogether at once, her mentality decided it couldn’t take it anymore, and simply decided to give up.
His childhood voice hangs in her ears like a song she’ll never forget. How he sang so well, how they danced and sang together, forming a friendship that she came to cherish even if their meetings were few and short-lived.
When he says her name, it’s as if it is made of honey, filling her with a happiness she’s long forgotten to treasure every second of. It’d been so long since she had an actual friend who didn’t feel as if she was permanently walking on eggshells with, holding hands in a way that doesn’t feel comfortable and more awkward than anything else.
She can’t help but smile, even girlishly giggle at him. He makes the world feel as if it still hangs in the air and holds not a single worry.
“Ryn,” She almost toys with his name on her lips when she speaks it, trying to bring about a playful tone of voice. “I honestly expected you to be a small boy, but I guess two long winters have a way of changing things. You’ve grown so much.”
Now does she take the time to truly admire his aging, which has come to him apparently very well, with fine-toned muscles and a handsome coat that has long replaced his soft and sweet baby coat from years before.
Hobgoblin’s red eyes stare at them like they are strangers. Sikeax does not act this way, as far as he is concerned. Sikeax does not act as if she is a giggly child, enjoying things. Eyes narrow as it carries on.
“Time has been kind for the most part. Possibly not as kind as it has been to you, but kind.”
Feathers erupt from her brother’s mouth as he burps, taking the now mangled corpse of the bird and slinging it around, releasing more feathers into the vicinity. Sikeax frowns and he can feel her embarrassment, but it only furthers his actions. He wants to make sure he makes her as uncomfortable as possible, as much as he can make the situation become that without causing a scene.
“He’s….” Teeth flash, blood-painted, holding black feathers in between them. Behind him, his barbed tail swishes, much as a cat does. Her face is dwindling down to the point where he wants it to be, looking for the cringe or slash of embarrassment that’s soon to come. “not a dragon. Honestly, I don’t know what he is.”
Eyebrows knot, crinkling his silver-scaled skin into wrinkles as the horns above them slide into the valleys they form.
“Dragon? I Dragon? How Hobgoblin weakling?”
You look like one, when you’re like, well, that.
“Hobgoblin above dragons. Above all dragons. Dragons weak. Dragons useless. Dragons stupid. Hold no power need. Dragons BELOW me.”
She wants to cringe now, watching as his body ripples and violently hits her with a wave of water that slips over her skin, most uncomfortably. From a previous form rises a black cat, tail thrashing hatefully.
“No longer Dragon. No longer weakling.”
His body leaps from her back, slashing at her with claws extended, gripping as he scrambles to sit atop his throne, watching the man that she seems so caught up with with yellow eyes full of hate because how dare he be called such an inferior thing when he is everything they dream of being.
“But, his name is Hobgoblin. And maybe out of curiosity does she check for a companion lingering about Rikyn’s side. “Have you yet to bond?”
And while it doesn’t matter if he has or not, she wants to know everything that has happened to him during the time that they have been apart.

OOC: Casually replies five million years later c''':
Hobgoblin turns to a Black Serval when mentioned.

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