[private] wish I could tell you by now that I felt more indifferent

[bolder]

While Bolder might pride himself on being a talented shifter, he would never claim to be the smartest or brightest of them. Hearing Sickle laugh makes him glad of that; the way she familiarly teases him makes him doubly so. He grins back at her, slowing down so that he can glance back at his newly-learned cousin.

His silver eyes flash playfully, and it extends out to his copper coat. Bolder becomes a wild array of color with reds and golds and yellows ripping across his equine shape, trying to engage Sickle in some of the games that he had played as a young colt. A few years might have passed since he last saw her, and while they have both certainly grown, it didn’t mean Bolder had left behind some of his more immature habits.

Bolder rarely wasted an opportunity to show off, and if it might distract Sickle from some of her growing nerves as they approached Hyaline, all the better. Swinging his tri-colored head forward, he continued to describe Myrna as they moved along. "She’s a shifter, like you and Malik.” Bolder told her, ”and she spends a good deal of time practicing.” There is a surge of pride in his deep voice when he says, "Myrna’s quite good. I almost tripped over her being a log the other day.”

Grinning still, he glances back at Sickle, hoping to see her still smiling.

She had fallen behind him and her voice had grown softer, drawing concern from Bolder. He stopped, drawing his still color-changing wings over his broad back. His lips press together in a line, though he refuses to allow himself to frown. (And there is something about her story that reminds Bolder of his own. He had been taken from Taiga, though that had never bothered him. Sickle had been stolen not once, but twice. His loyalty to his Aunt can’t quite bring himself to accept that Mazikeen was motivated by anything but a desire to reunite with her daughter, but his friendship with Sickle keeps him silent. As for those who stole her a second time, it was fortunate for them they were already drowned. Bolder wouldn’t have allowed them such a simple death.)

Instead, he draws upon what Sickle has said she likes. There is a friend she has in the woods, and they share a pond. "You know,” he tells her, "Hyaline’s lake is very deep.” Bolder stands quiet in the company of his cousin, and the only sound that surrounds them is the wind whispering through the trees. "Have you ever tried swimming as a whale before?” Bolder asks, hoping to draw some of her curiosity back out. ”It’s one of my favorite things to do,” he continues, briefly describing the shape of an Orca. "I could show you later, if you’d like.”