As Aegean asnswers Astarielle’s query about his antlers, Pteron breathes a quiet lungful of the damp air. It is crisp with seasalt in a way that reminds him of the seashore of his childhood. The southern sands had been warm and nearly-tropical, but this Silver Cove is more cool stone and tall peaks than softly waving meadows. And it is Silver Cove, the amethyst-eyed Aegean says now. Pteron observes the hard chalk edges of the antlered colt as he gestures at the kingdom around them and then invites them to see more.
“Yes, please.” He says, his voice in chorus with that of the spotted filly beside him. There is excitement behind Pteron’s olive eyes and it tenses the muscles beneath his dun coat. “I’d love to see more.” Is the answer to Star’s request for confirmation, just in case his first words hadn’t been heard over the bright chatter of his fellow visitor. As he speaks, the hard silk of his feathers is jostled slightly by a touch from the titian girl. Pteron glances toward them with a faint smile, but is quickly engrossed in the sudden color changes she exhibits. First his own pattern and then Aegean’s white and back to her own peppering of clementine on white.
It is a novel thing to the young pegasus, and his eyebrows raise curiously. He will have to ask her more about that, Pteron decides. How does she do it? Can she be any color or is she limited to mirroring the hue of those around her? The myriad of questions ends only when he forces it out of his mind, turning his attention back to the other boy.
“Lead the way,” Pteron adds with a mild smile in the soft tenor of his voice.
@[Astarielle]
@[aegean]
“Yes, please.” He says, his voice in chorus with that of the spotted filly beside him. There is excitement behind Pteron’s olive eyes and it tenses the muscles beneath his dun coat. “I’d love to see more.” Is the answer to Star’s request for confirmation, just in case his first words hadn’t been heard over the bright chatter of his fellow visitor. As he speaks, the hard silk of his feathers is jostled slightly by a touch from the titian girl. Pteron glances toward them with a faint smile, but is quickly engrossed in the sudden color changes she exhibits. First his own pattern and then Aegean’s white and back to her own peppering of clementine on white.
It is a novel thing to the young pegasus, and his eyebrows raise curiously. He will have to ask her more about that, Pteron decides. How does she do it? Can she be any color or is she limited to mirroring the hue of those around her? The myriad of questions ends only when he forces it out of his mind, turning his attention back to the other boy.
“Lead the way,” Pteron adds with a mild smile in the soft tenor of his voice.
@[Astarielle]
@[aegean]