[private] each time the feeling fades

[Obscene]

I can see through you, see your true colors
Cause inside you're ugly, you're ugly like me

It had been a remarkably cool spring but that hadn’t kept the wildflowers from blooming. A sea of color greets him as he moves through his home, reflecting on the last few weeks. He had been more on edge (although he had done well in hiding that from those that mattered) since his return from Tephra. It was his mother who had finally, unexpectedly, soothed some of those rough edges. He had avoided her for awhile after bringing her here, had watched from afar as she and Bardot spent time together among the tall statuesque lupins and sentry hollyhocks. It was partly his anger, casting new scales to lodge permanently across his coat, that kept him away. Mostly, it was because he didn’t know what to say.

There was only so long he could evade her, former Khaleesi that she was. He hadn’t expected to find her on the cliffs facing the sea (in his favorite spot) one night, had been even more surprised when she had told him that it reminded her of Nerine. He had never known that she had lived there once. There was much he hadn’t known about her, he came to find. They had stood silently, side by side, looking out to the coast when she had finally turned to look at him. “Apologies have never come easy in this family but I am sorry, Obscene. Your father…” And she turns back to the ocean, the gold of her eyes tarnished by the pain she has carried for centuries. “Your father was the best thing that ever happened to me. So when I lost him…” She shrugs slightly, as if all the heartache she had carried could be conveyed in such a small movement. “It broke me. Losing him.”

He says nothing, simply glares out into the sea as that heat flares around that cold dark hole deep inside him. Reminds him of times he had fought long and hard to forget. As if losing him, losing her, hadn’t broken him too. “You needed me and I wasn’t there for you.” She says quietly, reaching out to him and brushing her gray muzzle along the scales of his neck. He shudders slightly at the unfamiliar touch, turning his head quickly and setting his sizzling gaze on her. “No. You weren’t.” He says coldly but doesn’t pull away despite the sudden urge to lash out at her. Tantalize, to her credit, did not flinch from his tone nor the fire in his eyes. Fire and brimstone that she understands far too well. “I use to think I was cursed.” She says with only the slightest tug of her lips. “Cursed by circumstance and cursed by feeling too much. But it’s not a weakness my son.” She says softly. “It’s a good thing. To feel. A lesson that I learned much too late.” A ghost of a smile crosses her lips as she presses her head to his neck and lets a black feathered wing brush lightly over his backside. She does not chide him, does not tell him what to do. She has no right to that now. But he allows her touch, allows her words to sink somewhere within him, as they stand together and watch the moonlight dance over the waves.

Perhaps they might make this right after all.

The memory vanishes as an image is pressed into his mind. In a field of softened briars and blackberries, in the further reaches of the territory, stands Gale. His movement stills as he closes his eyes and focuses on the image in his head, recognizing the area. When they open, the brightness of his eyes has turned to a deep bloody crimson and there is the soft click of scales as the rest of his body connects to the beast within. With a piercing whistle sent into the air, he sends out a ringing call of warning. Within seconds, Light appears. He gazes at the Wisp for a moment, hesitating. Conflicted. “Find Cheri.” “When things go sour….” She had requested. He doesn’t doubt that would happen rather quickly. Would he regret it though, calling for her?

By the time he has made his way to where the Tephran King stands, there is not an ounce of fur to be found. A ravenous hunger begins to creep around his insides but this time, he doesn’t fight it. He can feel the serpent within, can sense that the snake knows he will willingly give in this time. He takes in the strange wings digging into his earth, takes in the lightning dancing across his back and the black horns that sit upon his head. And smirks as he halts a few yards away, glancing at the semi-burned strip of grass. “Gale. I’m pleased to see you.” He says, meaning every word as his pupils narrow into slits.

obscene

@ Gale