do you think God stays in his heaven because he, too, lives in fear of what he has created?
Ghaul has not yet learned to fear anyone or anything in this world. All of his adversaries to date have been met with rage as he rises to face each challenge set forth before him. Perhaps one day he will learn what it means to fear death, but for now he has the upper hand with Pteron’s life cupped gently in his palms. He could snuff the light from his eyes in seconds. The piebald boy is like a baby bird, fallen from the nest and at the mercy of the cat who stumbled upon him.
The monster feels his lips curl into a smile when the pegasus stiffens and holds his breath. A part of him had been thrilled when Sochi refused to surrender so easily, but in truth he prefers submission like this.
But just as he parts his awful jaws to sink those crooked fangs into Pteron’s face, he speaks. Ghaul pauses with a thread of saliva connecting two teeth. His stars? He closes his mouth and exhales in a harsh snort. The word has been spoken to him before, but its meaning is too abstract for him. When he looks at the skies, there is only a wide blue expanse with nothing for him to admire. Time is only measured in the temperature of the moment for him and little else. His life lacks the poetry of beauty or color. In fact, the only thing in this world that he holds precious to him is Clarissa, because her feathers and scales put him at ease. That, for him, is beauty.
Still, he is displeased with the way his new friend responds to him. He bends and yet he does not soften as the others do for him. An odd chittering noise forms in Ghaul’s throat before he suddenly opens his jaws once more to swipe his fangs roughly against the other’s temple. The hellion runs his tongue over his teeth and he is greeted with the bright taste of copper that tells him he has drawn blood. A purring sort of croon escapes him then as he shifts his weight, contented by the flavor. He does not know that this play thing heals just as Sochi does, that the mark may be a scar at best within moments.
“Pteron, what are stars? Why do you like them?” he says as he watches the blur of his face for a while. As chaotic as he seems, Ghaul is easily appeased by compliments and he is content to simply mark Pteron. He will be a treasure that is allowed to roam outside of Pangea, the drake has decided. “I like your wings because I imagine they taste nice.”
@[Pteron] its like friendship rings but permanent and he has no choice!