04-03-2016, 01:46 PM
Despite Aemar’s decidedly stoic attitude, his bird-yellow eyes take on a new light at Patchouli’s introduction, and the colt even smiles restrictedly at the news of his relations with Isle. A bow of his noble head to both strangers, and Aemar comes one step closer to being a nice, regular bloke with nice, regular things to say and do.
Sadly, that was only one step out of many.
The brightness of his eyes turns stony at the palomino’s joke - true, on most any member of the male species, that would have brought on a gale of laughter. Aemar, however, being but two years of age and terribly secluded, seems almost to take offense. The tips of his beak click together decidedly, and his jaw sets as Isle adds her own piece on to the jibe. Somehow, that low-grade humour just does not compute in the poor fool’s mind.
Raelyx, on the other hand, has not been completely hardened by the solidarity of his first year of life; his sea-green eyes bounce between Isle and Patchouli during the exchange, and a soft, uncomfortable smile consumes his bone-masked face. The image is rather adorable, actually - a tiny boy dressed in bone smiling like a fool at the jester and the lady. The poor child even chuckles, the pitch high in his youth. One glance at Aemar shuts him up though - there exists a hierarchy between them, and Raelyx has no intention of removing it.
Clearing his throat quietly, Raelyx assumes the role of ‘speaker,’ knowing that his baffled, uncomfortable older brother certainly wouldn’t continue the conversation after that particular exchange. Ah, well. The stick’ll be worked out of his ass eventually, I hope.
“The caves sound perfect, thanks.” Noticing Isle’s closeness, Raelyx chances a glance to the ever-stoic Aemar before hesitantly sliding right next to the woman. The little man still shivers madly, and, given his age, he instinctually drifts towards maternal figures. Truth be told, he’s too young to be away from Galilee, but the world never works with truth, does it? No.
Gently attaching himself to Isle’s warmth, the bone-child nods to Patchouli in readiness. Aemar shuffles his massive wings and flicks his ears, sighing quietly and settling in closer to the group. If you can’t make them go away with your staring, join ‘em.
As they begin walking, Raelyx starts a little at an epiphany he’s just had -
“Wait, Isle, that makes you our… niece.”
Shaking his head with a smile at that notion, Aemar looks to Patchouli.
“Pray tell, is your family as strange as ours? Birds, bones, reversed ages and all. I’d hate to be too strange to handle.” Ah, my bespeckled boy - perhaps you do have a sense of humour after all.
ooc - what is this??? what are they??? ugh :/
Sadly, that was only one step out of many.
The brightness of his eyes turns stony at the palomino’s joke - true, on most any member of the male species, that would have brought on a gale of laughter. Aemar, however, being but two years of age and terribly secluded, seems almost to take offense. The tips of his beak click together decidedly, and his jaw sets as Isle adds her own piece on to the jibe. Somehow, that low-grade humour just does not compute in the poor fool’s mind.
Raelyx, on the other hand, has not been completely hardened by the solidarity of his first year of life; his sea-green eyes bounce between Isle and Patchouli during the exchange, and a soft, uncomfortable smile consumes his bone-masked face. The image is rather adorable, actually - a tiny boy dressed in bone smiling like a fool at the jester and the lady. The poor child even chuckles, the pitch high in his youth. One glance at Aemar shuts him up though - there exists a hierarchy between them, and Raelyx has no intention of removing it.
Clearing his throat quietly, Raelyx assumes the role of ‘speaker,’ knowing that his baffled, uncomfortable older brother certainly wouldn’t continue the conversation after that particular exchange. Ah, well. The stick’ll be worked out of his ass eventually, I hope.
“The caves sound perfect, thanks.” Noticing Isle’s closeness, Raelyx chances a glance to the ever-stoic Aemar before hesitantly sliding right next to the woman. The little man still shivers madly, and, given his age, he instinctually drifts towards maternal figures. Truth be told, he’s too young to be away from Galilee, but the world never works with truth, does it? No.
Gently attaching himself to Isle’s warmth, the bone-child nods to Patchouli in readiness. Aemar shuffles his massive wings and flicks his ears, sighing quietly and settling in closer to the group. If you can’t make them go away with your staring, join ‘em.
As they begin walking, Raelyx starts a little at an epiphany he’s just had -
“Wait, Isle, that makes you our… niece.”
Shaking his head with a smile at that notion, Aemar looks to Patchouli.
“Pray tell, is your family as strange as ours? Birds, bones, reversed ages and all. I’d hate to be too strange to handle.” Ah, my bespeckled boy - perhaps you do have a sense of humour after all.
ooc - what is this??? what are they??? ugh :/