”Damn,” another uncomfortable jerk of his leg and the one reptilian toe shifts back into a hoof.
”Dragonborn,” he grumbles with mismatched eyes staring intently at the grass. A few scales climb up to his elbows, flicker, then fades. ”Like dad,” his voice strains now and he blinks hard in concentration; alas, only one reptilian toe before it, too, reverts back into his hoof again.
It has only been in the recent months that he has learned of being dragonborn, but not what it entails. He has never seen father shift into a great beast or soar across the skies like he belongs there. Lior occupies the caves of Nerine, secluding himself unless mother is alone and without business to be done. He lives a more somber lifestyle without ever reveling in what being dragonborn is.
Castile only remembers his smile at the realization, but then their conversation ended not long after. Often the boy wondered, but never asked.
What is dragonborn?
How does he fulfill that?
Why do only parts of his body shift?
He has noticed how his bones and skin rippled only when embarrassment and anger sunk into his soul. It was as though he lost control of himself. He became something greater, something stronger, but he couldn’t harness it or recall it on his own accord. The gladiator battle reinforced that and flustered him.
”Dragonborn,” he murmurs again, this time under his breath, but only a single wing loses its feathers to the leathery feel of a dragon.
”Dragonborn,” he grumbles with mismatched eyes staring intently at the grass. A few scales climb up to his elbows, flicker, then fades. ”Like dad,” his voice strains now and he blinks hard in concentration; alas, only one reptilian toe before it, too, reverts back into his hoof again.
It has only been in the recent months that he has learned of being dragonborn, but not what it entails. He has never seen father shift into a great beast or soar across the skies like he belongs there. Lior occupies the caves of Nerine, secluding himself unless mother is alone and without business to be done. He lives a more somber lifestyle without ever reveling in what being dragonborn is.
Castile only remembers his smile at the realization, but then their conversation ended not long after. Often the boy wondered, but never asked.
What is dragonborn?
How does he fulfill that?
Why do only parts of his body shift?
He has noticed how his bones and skin rippled only when embarrassment and anger sunk into his soul. It was as though he lost control of himself. He became something greater, something stronger, but he couldn’t harness it or recall it on his own accord. The gladiator battle reinforced that and flustered him.
”Dragonborn,” he murmurs again, this time under his breath, but only a single wing loses its feathers to the leathery feel of a dragon.
Castile is awkward and trying to figure out how to shift lmao