when the stars threw down their spears and water'd heaven with their tears:
The spotted boy is unusually quiet, but Wyrm appreciates it. It reminds him of that sickly black-and-star painted stallion Heartfire had been mulling over with her sister, Luster, some time ago. That beast hadn’t been so stoic and the only thing that had kept Wyrm from rendering him mute was respect for his woman’s plans. It had been her business - now this was his. A strange clicking noise travels the length of his throat, vibrating in the airwaves around them before dying out and Wyrm arches his dark back to pop the joints there before trying on a new skin. He shifts fluidly, trading paws and tail for hooves and a green coat that undulates with flashes of color before settling on his regular shade. A shake of his refined head and then he’s whole, horse, and blinking slowly over the two in front of him again.
“Levi?” He scoffs, rather unimpressed with the entire package now that he’s put a name to it. He can see how it might appeal to his daughter’s tender side, but surely Rapture wouldn’t be picking up every stray that wandered into her sight, right? If so, then Wyrm would have to keep a much closer eye on her. For her own good. “And he’s your friend, is he?” The shifter asks redundantly, an audible hmmm thrumming from his vocal chords. Atop his slender head, his ears flicker forwards and then shift back. “How long have you been friends with Rapture, Levi?”
He could guess the answer, but he wants to gain a better measure of the other stallion. He wants to hear those words come from the boy’s dark mouth, wants to see the metal he’s made of. It was his job, remember? To be the over-protective father. It’s what he killed Lupei for. His head quirks to the side, one mismatched green eye catching sight of his daughter before he says, “Your mother and I met in a similar fashion.”
did he smile his work to see? did he who made the Lamb make thee?
