There’s an electricity of anticipation in the set of Magnus’ shoulders and she almost asks about it, but she’s far too interested in what the purple newcomer has to say to pay it too much mind. Magnus grins at her, mussing her forelock, and she wrinkles her nose at him, huffing lightly before turning her scaled head to the stallion before her. She preens beneath his compliment, the barest hint of fang showing against her dark lip. “I always thought I look more like my dad,” she smiles, clearly pleased with the comparison to her mom. She glances back at her shoulders, rolling them a little. “I wish I had her wings though.”
It was always so cool how they shifted and changed.
Momentarily distracted, she frowns in thought, curious about the pang in her heart at the thought of her mama out there but it passes like a cloud before the sun. Soon, her face is open and warm again and she turns her sage-colored gaze back to Chaol to watch him curiously. “I love secret messages!” she exclaims, practically vibrating with anticipation for whatever he had brought her. She wants to grab it from him. Wants to unwrap it and peel it back so that she can properly appreciate it for all of its glory.
But he doesn’t give it to her that easily so she’s left to wait with bated breath.
Her eyes shimmer with excitement and anticipation, and her heart pounds in her chest.
“What’d she say? What’d she want to tell me?”
howl at the half moon, radio queen. she's all smoke. she's all nicotine.