09-11-2021, 01:41 PM
"They are giant, antlered, chimeras," he explains, turning his head to follow her as she dances away from his direction, "the color of dragonflame, and the madder they are, the hotter the fire they spit."
He remembers when the dragons came, outmatching the Nerinians who fought desperately against them; he remembers the red and black of flame and smoke boiling in the air. He had done nothing to help and, remained invisible and silent as the invaders burned their way north and broken Brennan's shield. Should he feel guilty? He doesn't. It was not his war.
"And they're pretty mad right now, even Steve avoids them this time of year."
Wherewolf shrugs at her insistence as if to imply that it is not his problem if she wants to be barbecued. It would not be worth it to him, but for a moment he does find himself considering accompanying her at her request. He has never been deeply rooted in the Pampas, no more than he was in Nerine, really, a place he stayed long enough to imply otherwise, but to which he carried no loyalty. His loyalties, if he has any, are kept close at hand, not extending even to the duplicates he creates. It gives the enchantment in her voice a significant foothold, but the wall it is climbing is his anger and his bitterness and his desire to be left to sulk in peace. There is also the matter of his mother's body, left to gather flies beneath an ombu tree just to the east.
Would they let him bring her bones to Ischia, he wonders, smiling suddenly and broadly at the finned girl.
"Ischia, you say?" He flicks his ears as through to break off the draw of her voice, "Our Seneschal stole away an Ischian boy who she's been keeping as a pet, perhaps you'd like me to bring him a message myself? Maybe you have news of his grandmother, Aquaria?"
He remembers when the dragons came, outmatching the Nerinians who fought desperately against them; he remembers the red and black of flame and smoke boiling in the air. He had done nothing to help and, remained invisible and silent as the invaders burned their way north and broken Brennan's shield. Should he feel guilty? He doesn't. It was not his war.
"And they're pretty mad right now, even Steve avoids them this time of year."
Wherewolf shrugs at her insistence as if to imply that it is not his problem if she wants to be barbecued. It would not be worth it to him, but for a moment he does find himself considering accompanying her at her request. He has never been deeply rooted in the Pampas, no more than he was in Nerine, really, a place he stayed long enough to imply otherwise, but to which he carried no loyalty. His loyalties, if he has any, are kept close at hand, not extending even to the duplicates he creates. It gives the enchantment in her voice a significant foothold, but the wall it is climbing is his anger and his bitterness and his desire to be left to sulk in peace. There is also the matter of his mother's body, left to gather flies beneath an ombu tree just to the east.
Would they let him bring her bones to Ischia, he wonders, smiling suddenly and broadly at the finned girl.
"Ischia, you say?" He flicks his ears as through to break off the draw of her voice, "Our Seneschal stole away an Ischian boy who she's been keeping as a pet, perhaps you'd like me to bring him a message myself? Maybe you have news of his grandmother, Aquaria?"
@Moira
