07-07-2019, 02:03 PM
Aodhán
ice and fire
All that is gold does not glitter; not all who wander are lost
Winters, not even up in the frosted island in the north, had never bothered Aodhán in his young life. Of course, he missed out on most of the last one by not feeling anything much at all, but even with that thought put aside it is true. After all, he had been born with his own method of keeping warm - possibly a family trait, though his father had always looked doubtful enough when the spotted colt had asked about it to now know that it simply couldn’t be true.
Nowadays though, the fire trait which had helped him keep warm would be the least of his worries - and abilities. The grown baroque hybrid knows he can take on any form he desires, as long as he can think of it and really know the shape. Wild animals, as much as he could see them or preferably, touch them, helped him to a variety of coats and, if he was honest, types of food he otherwise could not have digested.
And so even mid-winter, the white, golden-antlered elk in the forest, looked particularly healthy for the time of year.
His large frame and healthy, muscled build was enough to keep most wolves at bay, as those would search for a lankier, easier-to-take-down sort of prey. But even if one would be so brave, well - it would be in the blink of an eye that he’d change into a larger version of said wolf (or bear) themselves, and they’d all be on their merry ways.
On of those perhaps with some form of permanent trauma from the event; never Aodhán himself.
Stripping bark of the trees, he wondered momentarily if perhaps he could change into an older or younger version of himself, too. Yes, younger would probably not be a problem. And perhaps making himself a bit more adult- or muscled-looking would be easy, too, if he were to impress a girl.
Grinning to himself stupidly, remembering the mesmerising nereid most clearly, he almost runs into the next tree - frantically, the white elk looks around hoping to spy no-one watching. Perhaps his white colouring would have blended him in with the wintery landscape just enough?
Nowadays though, the fire trait which had helped him keep warm would be the least of his worries - and abilities. The grown baroque hybrid knows he can take on any form he desires, as long as he can think of it and really know the shape. Wild animals, as much as he could see them or preferably, touch them, helped him to a variety of coats and, if he was honest, types of food he otherwise could not have digested.
And so even mid-winter, the white, golden-antlered elk in the forest, looked particularly healthy for the time of year.
His large frame and healthy, muscled build was enough to keep most wolves at bay, as those would search for a lankier, easier-to-take-down sort of prey. But even if one would be so brave, well - it would be in the blink of an eye that he’d change into a larger version of said wolf (or bear) themselves, and they’d all be on their merry ways.
On of those perhaps with some form of permanent trauma from the event; never Aodhán himself.
Stripping bark of the trees, he wondered momentarily if perhaps he could change into an older or younger version of himself, too. Yes, younger would probably not be a problem. And perhaps making himself a bit more adult- or muscled-looking would be easy, too, if he were to impress a girl.
Grinning to himself stupidly, remembering the mesmerising nereid most clearly, he almost runs into the next tree - frantically, the white elk looks around hoping to spy no-one watching. Perhaps his white colouring would have blended him in with the wintery landscape just enough?
@[lilian]