05-31-2019, 04:13 PM
Pteron remains where he stands, only his dark eyes flicking rapidly across the grounded pegasus. She doesn’t seem to injured and his flaring nostrils do not catch the tang of blood, yet she remains on the ground, her wings flared around her like some sort of shield. Pteron heeds the warning, though he does grow more attentive with pricked ears and upright posture when she finally speaks.
It’s an echo of the last word he’d spoken and Pteron is suddenly quite sure he understands. It was not long ago that his younger siblings learned to speak, their babbling turning slowly to recognizable speech. They’d often repeat the last word of what he’d said to them like an echo. She was just learning to speak, Pteron thinks. Or perhaps relearning – this is a fully grown mare and not a young child. She’s older than he is, Pteron can see, but assessing age is an impossible task in this world of theirs and she could easily be either four or four hundred.
When the champagne stallio starts to speak, Pteron turns his pale face toward the stranger and takes him in fully for the first time. He, too, looks older than Pteron and is certainly taller. The young man’s olive eyes quickly trace the myriad of scars that adorn the roan stallion, lingering on those that he recognizes as burn marks. Those are scars he knows well as a boy raised in the dragon lands. He would have his own, he thinks, had they not healed and shrank within a few minutes of receiving them. The stranger – who introduces himself as Aten – speaks slowly to the wild-eyed mare and Pteron listens. There is little to add after the Taigan stallion speaks and Pteron tilts his head curiously as he watches the downed mare. He searches her expression for any sign that she understands what is being said, and finally asks:
“Do you need help?”
They might be asking for too much, Pteron knows. Though his own recovery time for injury is minimal the tobiano knows that there are injuries that take some time to heal. Her lack of outward brokenness does not mean she is entirely unscathed by whatever she’d struggled with in her shifting. His familiarity with shifters does not include the knowledge of their ailments and though he offers help he is not certain that he will be able to. Someone will though, he is sure, and he can find them.
@[Vastra]
@[Aten]
It’s an echo of the last word he’d spoken and Pteron is suddenly quite sure he understands. It was not long ago that his younger siblings learned to speak, their babbling turning slowly to recognizable speech. They’d often repeat the last word of what he’d said to them like an echo. She was just learning to speak, Pteron thinks. Or perhaps relearning – this is a fully grown mare and not a young child. She’s older than he is, Pteron can see, but assessing age is an impossible task in this world of theirs and she could easily be either four or four hundred.
When the champagne stallio starts to speak, Pteron turns his pale face toward the stranger and takes him in fully for the first time. He, too, looks older than Pteron and is certainly taller. The young man’s olive eyes quickly trace the myriad of scars that adorn the roan stallion, lingering on those that he recognizes as burn marks. Those are scars he knows well as a boy raised in the dragon lands. He would have his own, he thinks, had they not healed and shrank within a few minutes of receiving them. The stranger – who introduces himself as Aten – speaks slowly to the wild-eyed mare and Pteron listens. There is little to add after the Taigan stallion speaks and Pteron tilts his head curiously as he watches the downed mare. He searches her expression for any sign that she understands what is being said, and finally asks:
“Do you need help?”
They might be asking for too much, Pteron knows. Though his own recovery time for injury is minimal the tobiano knows that there are injuries that take some time to heal. Her lack of outward brokenness does not mean she is entirely unscathed by whatever she’d struggled with in her shifting. His familiarity with shifters does not include the knowledge of their ailments and though he offers help he is not certain that he will be able to. Someone will though, he is sure, and he can find them.
@[Vastra]
@[Aten]