08-26-2018, 10:44 PM
Vulgaris
Vulgaris has not been around children since Cellar was just a newborn thing, all ribs and knobby knees while she trailed along behind him. (He forgets, of course, about Pond. She’s a plaything in his mind and not a child at all.) He has no idea how to behave as the little colt comes hurrying to his side while calling for his mother. The gray serpent turns his head to watch his approach with a look of surprise across his face but he doesn’t recoil from the attention. Instead, he lowers his head to the child’s height and watches him explain.
The name Lepis does not bring a face to memory but he can understand why a child might assume everyone knows their parent. His mother is the center of his universe, at this age. There was a time when Larva and Dillan were gods among mere mortals whom everyone must know. It brings a soft chuckle from somewhere in his throat with a smile that lingers in place. He keeps his lips pressed together, though, so that his fangs might not frighten the boy.
That is when he recalls the murmurings he had heard of Lepis being a captive, however. He supposes a distraction is necessary then. After all, he needs practice for when his own children are born in the spring.
“I haven’t seen Lepis today, little friend. You can stay with me until she comes home if you’d like,” he says softly as he searches the boy’s face for some gauge of how he feels. “My name is Vulgaris. What’s yours?”
He was never separated from his father as a small child and so he does not know what must be going through Delta’s mind. Of course, he assumes fear and loneliness, but those are abstract ideas for him at this point in life. Solitude is nearly all he knows anymore so there’s no one to long for when he finds himself isolated from the world.