11-02-2020, 11:00 PM
CrownS
He is happy to play in the streams that slither in serpentine curves across the jungle floor. His mother hasn’t left the den in several days and she seems irritable as winter spreads across the country. The boy is too young to understand, so he leaves to entertain himself with whatever games he imagines. It doesn’t occur to him how tall he’s grown in his one year of life or how his shoulders have begun to broaden. Crowns maintains the same ocean blue eyes, however - full of intrigue and that dark fascination.
So when he feels Eight prodding at him, he grins and is eager to answer the call. A plume of wild blue flame devours him and he appears on that forlorn beach. It stinks of death and the energy here is thick with rampant emotions. Once the sun sets, what sort of creatures would come to roam the shore? His bright gaze scans the sands for a while before his friend’s voice gathers his attention.
“Of course I’m still me!” he declares with a puffed chest and that eager grin. The ancient familiar curse had done little to dampen the burning star of his heart, but not for lack of trying. “I learned to swim and play tricks. Did you see?”
And he watches him closely, then, starved for someone to recognize his strength. Crowns even flings the memory of terrorizing Rosebay into Eight’s thoughts along with the dark depths of the sea that he explored. It had made him so desperately tired to be underwater, but he did it anyway, didn’t he?
His wings settle and then resettle again as he waits. Inevitably, his gaze drifts to the sun-bleached bones and the musky-sweet-smelling clumps of blood long dried in the sand. Had Eight brought him here to teach him some dark new lesson? Would he finally know what it was to be the thing that lives beneath the bed?
So when he feels Eight prodding at him, he grins and is eager to answer the call. A plume of wild blue flame devours him and he appears on that forlorn beach. It stinks of death and the energy here is thick with rampant emotions. Once the sun sets, what sort of creatures would come to roam the shore? His bright gaze scans the sands for a while before his friend’s voice gathers his attention.
“Of course I’m still me!” he declares with a puffed chest and that eager grin. The ancient familiar curse had done little to dampen the burning star of his heart, but not for lack of trying. “I learned to swim and play tricks. Did you see?”
And he watches him closely, then, starved for someone to recognize his strength. Crowns even flings the memory of terrorizing Rosebay into Eight’s thoughts along with the dark depths of the sea that he explored. It had made him so desperately tired to be underwater, but he did it anyway, didn’t he?
His wings settle and then resettle again as he waits. Inevitably, his gaze drifts to the sun-bleached bones and the musky-sweet-smelling clumps of blood long dried in the sand. Had Eight brought him here to teach him some dark new lesson? Would he finally know what it was to be the thing that lives beneath the bed?