Trekori
i'm freezing, it's not winter yet
but my fingers and toes
are shivering beneath these sheets
and i feel so alone
i don't want to die, i want to sleep
There's a quick response to my barked question, coming from one who identifies as another wanderer. Well, I wouldn't quite call myself that per-say, but I let it go, taking up a sense of curiosity instead as I crane my neck to see who might be the source of these words. He sounds to be about my age, and of those I have met very few. Wishbone, Khaedrik - not this fellow, however.
He comes out of cover with more flourishing words, though in truth its his appearance that catches me somewhat off guard. Winged as I am, he sports not a horn but fangs that glimmer with the words he speaks. But his joking tone puts me at ease, and suddenly I am relaxing my ruffled feathers and grinning at him as if we are just two dudes out for a stroll. Which is very strange for me - considering that I've never actually had a dude friend.
"It'd be quite the face off if I were, we're pretty evenly matched," I answer, gesturing my wings and horn to his wings and fangs. Even more than that, we share a common base coat, though he is blue where I am white, generally speaking. "I bet I could take you if I was the forest guard. Now that you've said it though, we should make it a thing." What kind of thing, and the logistics of it, I leave up to his imagination.
He's quickly approaching, a wide grin splitting his blue lips. I find myself mimicking the expression, cocking a brow at him curiously as he halts and nods towards my horn. I'm about to reply when he continues with his pun, and the words I'd been about to say slip from me in a whoosh-hahhah of laughter. "What a fangtastic observation," I offer dryly and lamely, not expecting the joke to be well received.
Luckily, he moves on from the quips to challenge my deftness in the area of flight and what not. I scoff easily, pshawing at the way he wiggles his eyebrows at me like a baffoon. "What, these bad boys?" I say in my best impression of a douchebag, stage-yawning and stretching until the tip of my golden wing buffets my new friend in the face. As if satisfied by this releasing of tension, I resettle my wings and look at him with a competitive excitement. "They'd give your bird arms a run for their money, pal."
Stepping away from the caves I'd been so interested in, I feign searching for a clearing - though we're quite deep in the forest at the moment. I glance back at him, cocking a brow and offering that smile again, the one that feels weird on my lips. "If you don't mind chatting with me while we walk, I'd take you up on a little flight-dueling. Or whatever."
@[Wolfbane] I love them.