Gale
this is going to break me clean in two --
this is going to bring me close to you
Lacking the motivation to learn a starshield says more about the brindled creature’s priorities than it does Ciri’s importance. He’d been given a crackling lightning aura for his challenge to Chemdog; what was the point of learning a star aura? It would take time better spent elsewhere, and even as he flexes the weak shield, Gale does not regret the choice.
Her sharp bark of laughter sounds forced, but Gale is no faster to return his blue gaze to hers. Her expression is curiously flat, and the brindle stallion wonders what thoughts lurk behind her silver eyes. He could find out, he thinks; he’s been able to succeed with everyone but Mazikeen.
But that would mean an ache in his head that would last a few days, and Gale is not eager for such an experience.
Not when he could instead be amused by her continued defiance, the false innocence in the way she speaks of him choking on her stars. He’s smiling, even as he muses over her accusation of wasting his time.
“There’s more to you than stars, Ciri.” When he answers, his tone is patient, as though he explains the concept as simply as possible, but the bemused smile and faint shake of his head are more than a little patronizing.
She all but radiates disinterest, from her neatly folded wings to the cool set of her face. That’s rather dull, he thinks. Her anger has cooled, and he can feel the desire for more within him, the hunger that - half-fed - is ravenous for more.
“You could at least say ‘Thank you’, you know.” He says casually, “for not leaving you dead.” He’s no more idea why she isn’t dead than she does, but that doesn’t mean he can’t attempt to use it to his advantage.
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