Stand face to face with your god
What an unusual thing it is that growls an accusation at her and she blinks those dragon eyes in his direction. They flash a crimson red as she considers him, the way he averts his own gaze, and she stares at him unblinking.
Typically anger begets anger, especially when it is directed at her, but she merely studies him as he edges closer. As if he has any right at all to approach her, to accuse her, to speak to her in any way at all. But she does not bare her sharpened, predator’s teeth, she does not lunge for him the way she had Obelisk.
She has never seen a feathered thing, not a thing like this. She understands that there is something otherworldly about him, too. She tilts her head, the eyes softening to a pale orange as she studies him.
“Me?” she asks coolly, unfolding those nebulous wings and then settling them back against her sides. He is a winged thing, too, though his are solid, tangible. She draws in a breath, the remaining stardust sliding back down her throat. Across her haunches, the galaxy writhes.
“What is it that you’re asking?” she counters, narrowing her gaze. “Is it a compliment or an accusation?” The corners of her wicked mouth hitch in the beginnings of some smug grin, though it never reaches its full potential before it dissolves completely.
@achille