08-02-2019, 07:08 AM
Aodhán
little fire
All that is gold does not glitter; not all who wander are lost
The firebird grins a bit at the arctic fox backing away, but focuses mostly on the horse who’s still talking to him. ”You take it better than most. You know, I was a horse once. Now…” he shrugs. ”That’s just one of my shapes, though you could say I’d more easily revert to that state than others.”
He listens to the cremello, wondering if there’s truth to it. ”I never saw a dragon - well, my dad had scales and teeth and eyes but, I don’t think that’s the same.” He thinks aloud. ”If you can describe one for me, perhaps I can be a dragon. Nothing I’ve tried so far has been beyond the limit of shifting.”
As an example, the firebird’s flames are doused, making way for golden scales along his body. He cocks his head at the stallion, now staring at him with reptilian eyes. What else does he need to alter to be a dragon, he seems to say.
He listens to the cremello, wondering if there’s truth to it. ”I never saw a dragon - well, my dad had scales and teeth and eyes but, I don’t think that’s the same.” He thinks aloud. ”If you can describe one for me, perhaps I can be a dragon. Nothing I’ve tried so far has been beyond the limit of shifting.”
As an example, the firebird’s flames are doused, making way for golden scales along his body. He cocks his head at the stallion, now staring at him with reptilian eyes. What else does he need to alter to be a dragon, he seems to say.