06-04-2019, 09:50 PM
Ever so slowly, Pteron reaches out.
The soft-eyed deer remains perfectly still, even when the stallion’s muzzle brushes against its damp nose. When he feels it – impossibly tangible – he draws back sharply in excitement, his blue ears pricking and liveliness animating in his features.
“It felt real!” He exclaims, unperturbed by the minute details that Ori might not have perfected. He is no expert in the texture nor musculature of deer and as far as Pteron is concerned the girl is a master of her craft. “That’s incredible!”
Pteron has seen a great many magical workings, but this is by far the most entertaining he has encountered.
“Can you make anything?” He asks, recalling the other wildlife he’d assumed had simply disappeared into the grass, and even the pair of mares that often lingered near Oriash when he had seen her from a distance. “My brother and sister can make me see anything, but it doesn’t ever feel real. Eyas is really good at it but Gale...” He stops abruptly.
Carried away by his own amusement and distracted by the novelty of Ori’s magic, Pteron had allowed himself to forget. His olive eyes lose their sparkle and the excited prick of his blue ears swivel instead into the pale tangle of his mane. Pteron swallows down the pain with a dose of happiness (just like Mother had taught them), and a moment later offers her a small smile to replace the sudden blankness on his face. “Sorry,” he says, “Sorry. I forgot sometimes, that he’s gone.”
@[Oriash]
The soft-eyed deer remains perfectly still, even when the stallion’s muzzle brushes against its damp nose. When he feels it – impossibly tangible – he draws back sharply in excitement, his blue ears pricking and liveliness animating in his features.
“It felt real!” He exclaims, unperturbed by the minute details that Ori might not have perfected. He is no expert in the texture nor musculature of deer and as far as Pteron is concerned the girl is a master of her craft. “That’s incredible!”
Pteron has seen a great many magical workings, but this is by far the most entertaining he has encountered.
“Can you make anything?” He asks, recalling the other wildlife he’d assumed had simply disappeared into the grass, and even the pair of mares that often lingered near Oriash when he had seen her from a distance. “My brother and sister can make me see anything, but it doesn’t ever feel real. Eyas is really good at it but Gale...” He stops abruptly.
Carried away by his own amusement and distracted by the novelty of Ori’s magic, Pteron had allowed himself to forget. His olive eyes lose their sparkle and the excited prick of his blue ears swivel instead into the pale tangle of his mane. Pteron swallows down the pain with a dose of happiness (just like Mother had taught them), and a moment later offers her a small smile to replace the sudden blankness on his face. “Sorry,” he says, “Sorry. I forgot sometimes, that he’s gone.”
@[Oriash]