05-19-2017, 04:19 PM
kharon
It really was rare that Kylin wasn't at his side. Since birth, the twins had been nearly joined at the hip even though he often acted as though he were an older brother, often treated her as a younger sister. Not in a cruel way, but in deep kindness. Like she was something to be handled delicately, careful not to harm. Someone to watch over and make sure she didn't get hurt, or do anything he deemed was too foolish.
Today, though, he gave her a little space from his smothering presence, not that she was bothered at all by him. He just didn't want to drive her into getting tired of him.
So maybe it was an odd act of fate then, or complete chance, that he was alone for once when he felt an entirely new presence in his mind today. Curious, his head turned towards it, towards her, and almost mechanically, he followed. His lavender and white hair was soft and tousled as he walked with casual purpose, not nearly as long as it would some day grow to be. At only a year old, he was already quite tall and slender, with a smooth grace that was perhaps strange in a teenager, but not surprising for one of his bloodline. Father was so very beautiful, too.
The link of iron hanging about his neck shimmered like polished silver, a broad medallion thumping quietly, comfortably against his bare chest with each step. It warmed in the sunlight and settled silently as he paused, his pale, gray eyes finally landing on this new one that he hadn't seen before -or heard before. Instead of listening in, he approached her from behind, his wings fluttering and resettling at his sides.
"Hello," he greeted her smoothly with a friendly smile, taking in her appearance as she turned to him. He'd never seen anyone like her, not even remotely so. She was the green of a secret forest, the deep jade of an emerald gem hidden in shadows. And painted with white, just as he and his sister were. And Father, of course. Sort of like Reilly, too. Not a lick of purple on her, though, nor that auburn-red of Reilly's. No brownish-gray like Mother.
Not like anyone.
"I'm Kharon," he said, his eyes finding their way back to hers. "Are you from a nearby territory? I haven't met anyone from outside yet."
Today, though, he gave her a little space from his smothering presence, not that she was bothered at all by him. He just didn't want to drive her into getting tired of him.
So maybe it was an odd act of fate then, or complete chance, that he was alone for once when he felt an entirely new presence in his mind today. Curious, his head turned towards it, towards her, and almost mechanically, he followed. His lavender and white hair was soft and tousled as he walked with casual purpose, not nearly as long as it would some day grow to be. At only a year old, he was already quite tall and slender, with a smooth grace that was perhaps strange in a teenager, but not surprising for one of his bloodline. Father was so very beautiful, too.
The link of iron hanging about his neck shimmered like polished silver, a broad medallion thumping quietly, comfortably against his bare chest with each step. It warmed in the sunlight and settled silently as he paused, his pale, gray eyes finally landing on this new one that he hadn't seen before -or heard before. Instead of listening in, he approached her from behind, his wings fluttering and resettling at his sides.
"Hello," he greeted her smoothly with a friendly smile, taking in her appearance as she turned to him. He'd never seen anyone like her, not even remotely so. She was the green of a secret forest, the deep jade of an emerald gem hidden in shadows. And painted with white, just as he and his sister were. And Father, of course. Sort of like Reilly, too. Not a lick of purple on her, though, nor that auburn-red of Reilly's. No brownish-gray like Mother.
Not like anyone.
"I'm Kharon," he said, his eyes finding their way back to hers. "Are you from a nearby territory? I haven't met anyone from outside yet."