when the stars threw down their spears and water'd heaven with their tears:
“Of course I don’t.” he replies shortly to Rapture’s final question. The pleading in her eyes will garner no response from him, aside from hardening his resolve. He won’t dare to look away from the spotted boy either when he says, “Why would I? You’re my daughter, you have the power to stop anything or anyone who crosses a line.” Let it be known, in every corner of Beqanna, that Wyrm would never leave his children unprotected - not for a single iota of time. Of course he could not be there in flesh, not forever, but he would be damned if he let them leave without the ability to protect themselves. Besides, if Rapture truly needed him, she could always reach him in her own way.
He pauses, glances over his shoulder, and is met with that trembling blue lip and that downcast face. Only her eyes - bright, intense, so much like her mother’s - are filled with a spark of hope. Levi’s comment only manages to entice a single, green ear to swivel about and Wyrm’s lips split apart, stretch until they open to expose every serrated tooth that grapples for space in an elongated mouth. It gives him something of a sickly engrossing smile as he turns his head to profile. The one eye that’s exposed to the grating youth twitches in it’s socket, darts to pinpoint him, and then melds the pupil into a slit. Even with new vision Levi is nothing but flesh and bone. Mortal, just like the rest of them.
The bay’s last comment (more like a tattle) does pique his interest though, enough to turn his full attention (and ears) back to his docile, blue girl. “Rapture,” He begins softly, mouth melting to a sense of normality in his moment of peace, “is there something you’d like to show me?”
did he smile his work to see? did he who made the Lamb make thee?
