10-29-2020, 11:10 PM
CrownS
Crowns has always been mystified by the things that go bump in the night. He has laid awake at night watching the moonglow catch the silhouette of some wild predator looming just outside his den. What would it be like, to meet them halfway and run wild in the witching hour? Could he also be some fearsome thing? These questions come circling back when she approaches him and he finds himself staring too long, too directly into her eyes. He is, as always, drawn to the darkness that looms in her.
He grins like the glint of a knife when she speaks. The boy folds his wings and approaches her without the faintest suggestion of hesitation. Nevermind the blood and the dirt caked to his legs.
“Then some would underestimate me. What could be better?” he asks with a triumphant laugh. He circles her loosely as he sizes her up, trying to decide if she’s the sort who could give him a run for his money if they had to tussle. But he lacks any hostility in his movements or the warm expression behind his eyes. There is only a boyish desire for violent games because he hasn’t learned to simply converse with others yet.
“Just you wait, though. In time, I’ll be the greatest at flying,” he warns her with a smirk. “My name is Crowns, by the way.”
He comes to a stop in front of her as he finishes his circle. There is a wildfire in his gaze, just waiting to be set free. He just needs to decide if she’s more like kindling or a torch.
He grins like the glint of a knife when she speaks. The boy folds his wings and approaches her without the faintest suggestion of hesitation. Nevermind the blood and the dirt caked to his legs.
“Then some would underestimate me. What could be better?” he asks with a triumphant laugh. He circles her loosely as he sizes her up, trying to decide if she’s the sort who could give him a run for his money if they had to tussle. But he lacks any hostility in his movements or the warm expression behind his eyes. There is only a boyish desire for violent games because he hasn’t learned to simply converse with others yet.
“Just you wait, though. In time, I’ll be the greatest at flying,” he warns her with a smirk. “My name is Crowns, by the way.”
He comes to a stop in front of her as he finishes his circle. There is a wildfire in his gaze, just waiting to be set free. He just needs to decide if she’s more like kindling or a torch.