the darkest nights produce the brightest stars
Fennick was vaguely aware that he might have scared his new friend off. He didn’t mind terribly, he was, after all, used to it. He was just so excited to see someone else, anyone else, struggling with mythical powers that did nothing but make life harder. Still though, if he left now Fennick wouldn’t get his answers, and that would be disappointing.
Yet, to Fennick’s relief, the other man took a single step away, rather than many at a fast pace. One step wasn’t a terrible reaction, he’d received worse. As the palomino described his talents, Fennick tried to regather his various limbs before they soaked into the earth and left him crippled.
“Teleporting, huh?” He asked as he regathered his left foreleg.
“Well that would be cool…in theory.” And it was true. Teleporting would be really cool, and drop dead useful. It wouldn’t be either of those things, however, if you couldn’t control it. Fennick paused for a moment, letting his mind wander to the various perils of teleporting. Would it be worse than dribbling away? Fennick wasn’t entirely sure. At least he stayed in one spot as he dribbled away, there was no risk of one leg getting left behind when the rest of him materialized somewhere else.
Yes, things certainly could be worse.
He nodded at the name, and tried to memorize it. He had met shamefully few residents of his kingdom. If he had to meet everyone twice before they were committed to memory, the task would never be completed. Better to get it right the first time.
Despite his curiosity, Fennick chose not to press Rhonan about how he came to teleport. He knew a thing or two about not wanting to talk about it. What was it that men did instead? Hit things? Fennick certainly would prefer that in most situations.
“I don’t think I’m goo, not exactly.” Fennick paused to gather his thoughts. They were a little scattered and uncertain. He wasn’t really sure what he was.
“Well, technically I am. However, I seem to do a lot of shapeshifting, as long as I can see it, I can be it. At night I turn to stone, but in between sleeping and seeing I tend to turn to goo.” He desperately hoped that wouldn’t always be the case. Fennick didn’t want to think about what would happen if he couldn’t get a hang of his new, unfortunate skills. He certainly would be out of work.
“I guess I can always become a politician, if I’m destined to be a spineless ball of slime.” Fennick grinned wickedly at his rather weak joke. Hopefully, Rhonan didn’t have political aspirations.