do you think God stays in his heaven because he, too, lives in fear of what he has created?
This world is not like the dream he was shown when he was still safely curled in his mother’s belly. Everything is a blur of red, orange, and blue. The winter makes the ground nearly black and he grits his teeth at the sight of it as he stumbles around in the cold. His little leathery wings curl tight to his golden sides as he shivers against the wind that ruffles the tiny ridge of fuzz that is his mane. Does he hate this world? He thinks so. Ghaul has not learned the word for it, but this existence summons bile in the back of his throat. Or maybe it’s the liquid he uses to breathe fire? He doesn’t know for certain just yet.
He hears tiny hooves crunching in the snow and so he swivels one little ear in her direction before turning his body to meet her. The boy is still clumsy and his talons nearly slip in the slush of snow but he manages to stay upright even as she nudges him with her nose. It feels strange, a hint of warmth against armored scales. But it is warmth all the same and he is ravenous for it.
Ghaul skitters closer and curls his body to hers to leech off some of the body heat rolling off of her in little orange waves. The fledgling croons, pleased to have found something to give him a moment of repose from the chill.
“Boo,” he parrots, crocodile teeth showing between star-dusted lips. He doesn’t notice the way his mother’s blood smears across Gospel’s torso and coats her in his stench. In fact, he’s quite surprised she doesn’t already have the same stink of a vile baptism on her. The draconic child leans in and sniffs at her face curiously, bumping his nose to her cheek on accident as he examines her. She is the first living thing he has come across and he seems eager to learn all he can about his own kind.
The texture of her skin is somewhat like his, he notes, though her scales seem softer and more flexible. Ghaul traces his nose along her neck and shoulder like an overzealous dog until he finds a patch of fuzz that makes up her normal coat. He snorts, surprised at how it tickles at his nose and lips. Does he also have fluff like this? He tilts his head curiously and emits a soft gibbering sort of sound as he thinks before pressing his nose to her skin again.
@[gospel]