12-13-2019, 11:12 AM
You’re uncontrollable
and we are unlovable
and we are unlovable
The cub seems to have a hard time processing his statement and subsequent question, but it is a little harder to read her little-lion face than he could a foal’s so he can’t be sure for how long she remains silent - but then she asks a question, and a shadow falls over his face.
It’s not her fault. In fact, she is quite lucky to inherit her father’s gift, for it will mean survival and perhaps flourishment, even with the rough start. It’s no wonder, he thinks, he could never fully sate her hunger, if there was a lion underneath her skin. Or perhaps that’s just his mind reaching for explanations that aren’t his fault - perhaps he doesn’t want to be at fault any more, for raising her here where logic would have told him to leave his beloved Isle.
Will they be afraid of me?
Yes, darling, they will. If they find out about your lion form, they will fear you before you’ve had the chance to show your angelic personality. They will fear you for what they don’t understand, that you’re two shapes, not two faces, with one golden heart. They say it won’t be possible.
He doesn’t need to tell her out loud. The deep sad-looking blue of his eyes combined with his expression, are enough. A small nod of understanding is barely visible when she clouds herself in dark shadows; sometimes he wished he could disappear too, or shy away from the judging eyes of others. Usually, he doesn’t care - he doesn’t care when it’s about himself.
He cares a lot when it comes to his daughter, her sad face when she realizes judgement will be unavoidable. That many don’t stop to look beyond a set of claws or teeth.
And yet she seems to be able to handle it. Maybe she had been broken too many times to notice the difference. He wishes things could be different for her, but they are what they are.
She climbs his leg and shoulder and he automatically dips that leg a little to make her climb easier. There is a useful part to her being a lion, and ultimately perhaps a fun part as well. He feels her tail swish upon his spine, and grins a little himself. The excitement and silent purr in her voice are all he needs to confirm she will do well, regardless of what others may think. ”Rule number one - no horses or shifters. You’ll recognize the difference soon enough. Rule number two - no predators. They taste awful and usually fight back. Everything else is fair game.” he instructs her almost automatically, and then they move, onward. There is a den of snow hares a little to the south-east; those animals breed like rabbits. Surely they can miss one or two more leverets.
When they near, he stops. The ground is warmer where the den is, but Beryl might not see as he does. She’ll have to find them on her own, and find a way to reach them as well. ”Rule number three. You don’t always get to rely on me.” He tosses his head back a little, waiting for her to come up with a next move.
It’s not her fault. In fact, she is quite lucky to inherit her father’s gift, for it will mean survival and perhaps flourishment, even with the rough start. It’s no wonder, he thinks, he could never fully sate her hunger, if there was a lion underneath her skin. Or perhaps that’s just his mind reaching for explanations that aren’t his fault - perhaps he doesn’t want to be at fault any more, for raising her here where logic would have told him to leave his beloved Isle.
Will they be afraid of me?
Yes, darling, they will. If they find out about your lion form, they will fear you before you’ve had the chance to show your angelic personality. They will fear you for what they don’t understand, that you’re two shapes, not two faces, with one golden heart. They say it won’t be possible.
He doesn’t need to tell her out loud. The deep sad-looking blue of his eyes combined with his expression, are enough. A small nod of understanding is barely visible when she clouds herself in dark shadows; sometimes he wished he could disappear too, or shy away from the judging eyes of others. Usually, he doesn’t care - he doesn’t care when it’s about himself.
He cares a lot when it comes to his daughter, her sad face when she realizes judgement will be unavoidable. That many don’t stop to look beyond a set of claws or teeth.
And yet she seems to be able to handle it. Maybe she had been broken too many times to notice the difference. He wishes things could be different for her, but they are what they are.
She climbs his leg and shoulder and he automatically dips that leg a little to make her climb easier. There is a useful part to her being a lion, and ultimately perhaps a fun part as well. He feels her tail swish upon his spine, and grins a little himself. The excitement and silent purr in her voice are all he needs to confirm she will do well, regardless of what others may think. ”Rule number one - no horses or shifters. You’ll recognize the difference soon enough. Rule number two - no predators. They taste awful and usually fight back. Everything else is fair game.” he instructs her almost automatically, and then they move, onward. There is a den of snow hares a little to the south-east; those animals breed like rabbits. Surely they can miss one or two more leverets.
When they near, he stops. The ground is warmer where the den is, but Beryl might not see as he does. She’ll have to find them on her own, and find a way to reach them as well. ”Rule number three. You don’t always get to rely on me.” He tosses his head back a little, waiting for her to come up with a next move.
and I don’t want you to think that I care
I never would, I never could again
Leilan
no. 7 | ice forged in fire
@[Beryl]
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
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