07-05-2022, 09:40 PM
As Rhaegal relaxes, the warmth in Malik’s eye grows more genuine. He knows that he is too wary, but at least he is growing more adept at letting down his guard. The fear never really goes away, but he is able to push it to the back of his mind when he focuses on other things.
Things like looking for Sickle, who the other young stallion does not know. Malik hides the depth of his disappointment as easily as he does everything else, giving only a regretful shrug of his feathered shoulders as he looks away for a moment. It is not as though he’d really expected to find her here, he tells himself. But he had hoped for something, news of her at least. The possibility that the boy’s mother might have more information though, that fuels the hope again.
So rather than allow the disappointment to swallow him up, he nods, the gesture sharp enough to indicate that yes: he would be better asking his mother, and that he would do so if given the chance.
When did you last see her, the stranger asks. Long enough that he feels guilty, Malik could answer, but instead only offers a genuinely rueful smile and “Years.” Adding more too often invites further questions. And Malik, with no interest in thinking about why he is so far separated from his twin, has even less interest in explaining it to strangers.
Well, acquaintances now, he supposes. An acquaintance with the same familial ties to Tephra that Malik has to Hyaline, he thinks when the boy names Casimira as his mother. That name he recognizes; his mother has said it. “I’m Malik,” he replies, and pauses for a moment. Does he name both his parents? “Mazikeen is my mother.”
@Rhaegal
Things like looking for Sickle, who the other young stallion does not know. Malik hides the depth of his disappointment as easily as he does everything else, giving only a regretful shrug of his feathered shoulders as he looks away for a moment. It is not as though he’d really expected to find her here, he tells himself. But he had hoped for something, news of her at least. The possibility that the boy’s mother might have more information though, that fuels the hope again.
So rather than allow the disappointment to swallow him up, he nods, the gesture sharp enough to indicate that yes: he would be better asking his mother, and that he would do so if given the chance.
When did you last see her, the stranger asks. Long enough that he feels guilty, Malik could answer, but instead only offers a genuinely rueful smile and “Years.” Adding more too often invites further questions. And Malik, with no interest in thinking about why he is so far separated from his twin, has even less interest in explaining it to strangers.
Well, acquaintances now, he supposes. An acquaintance with the same familial ties to Tephra that Malik has to Hyaline, he thinks when the boy names Casimira as his mother. That name he recognizes; his mother has said it. “I’m Malik,” he replies, and pauses for a moment. Does he name both his parents? “Mazikeen is my mother.”
@Rhaegal