i know i'm not the center of the universe
-but you keep spinning 'round me just the same
She asks if he is sure that he’s part fish, and he shrugs with a grin. “Pretty sure”, his body language says for him, “I can show you, if you want.” He adds verbally. They’re not near water now, but it’s never far away. He lacks scales, true, and anything slightly resembling a tail, but fish is the best explanation that he can come up with. He is whatever his father is, he knows that, but father has always just been Dad – Ivar has never wondered exactly what they are. He doesn’t need to.
The roan girl says that she is just herself, but Ivar looks with clear curiosity at the spread of her feathered wings. He has seen wings on horses before, of course, but he’s never seen one fly. They can, he knows, just like the birds can. He takes a step forward (not too close, he knows to be more cautious now), and tells her that: “I like the wings.”
She speaks more, a stream of words that stand out only because of her previous brief statements. Ivar listens, willing to answer the question she’d posed at the beginning, but waiting for her to finish. Interrupting is rude, he knows, but he is more interested in hearing her story than in cutting her off to talk more about himself. Ivar wonders where this other forest might have been, wonders what kind of parents would leave their child to be found by a bear, but instead he answers that “Yes. I was born here.”
That sounds dull in comparison to her story though, and so the young colt adds “I’ve been lots of other places though. Like Ischia and Tephra and Hyaline. I want to go to Loess next. Have you ever been there?”
-------------------i v a r
------------------------------------djinni and stillwater--------------------------------- |
|
|
|
