Longclaw
He really should be more observant. If he had been, then the shock of turning around to see some terrible mixture of myth and wolf might not have been so prevalent on his features. Instead, Deimos has the advantage of taking him by surprise and, oh, how very surprised he is. “This isn’t some sort of sideshow.” The bloody horse comments, eyes narrowing while he works to slow the pounding of his heart. “But yea, I’m Longclaw.” He surmises, understanding that above all else this was no ordinary shape-shifter like his father.
The young stallion, having collected himself, draws his head upwards boldly to meet the unsettling gaze of the stranger. Though Wyrm had left and the trail of his scent was already beginning to vanish in the ocean breeze, Longclaw wishes somehow that he might be drawn back - if only to offer silent support in the face of this creature. “I promised you power.” His father had told him, but what sort of power could hope to stand against … (the blue boy lets his eyes rake across the dark, shaggy body and over the leathery wings with a shudder) … whatever the hell he was?
He’s young, naive perhaps, but not exactly stupid. “Did you know him, my grandfather?” He asks pointedly, tail swatting at his sides. For Deimos to be here besides that reason alone would be bizarre, to have come seeking the source of death throes and staying to talk - even more curious. "If you didn't," Longclaw questions, drawing out the silence between his speech with the slow turn of his head, "then why are you here?"
One-Half contract between Wyrm and Heartfire
Just decided to reply here, bc I'm lazy. @[Deimos]