03-05-2019, 10:48 AM
A hint of his father begins to peek through Pteron’s innocence. Stalking Bane always, Wyrm had come to know the boyish, charming attitude his grandson had taken from Longclaw, but had also been aware that a rugged determination and steadfast loyalty crept in. That would be Heartfire, he assumed silently. The old coyote had never belonged anywhere; the world was his stage.
He would remain in Loess then, like the boy who flicked his tail free and motioned towards the water ahead of them. Its crisp, sediment-rich waters had a slight tang of sulfur when he trotted forward to take a few laps from the surface, more so the smell than actual taste. No doubt it came from the hot springs which interwove themselves throughout the territory. “Oh, no need to worry over my safety.” The narrow little creature chuckled darkly, lifting his head.
“All alone in the big world, worried over a scavenger like myself.” He comments, turning his spry, eyeless head over one shoulder to eerily address Pteron. Water darkened his muzzle, dripping from his chin to wet the dust and grit underneath his clawed toes. The clicking that had originally drawn the young pegasus out to find him started up again, echoing from deep in Wyrm’s throat as he built a mental image of the yearling in his mind. It sounded unnatural, and it was. “Left to wait and wonder … when will Wolfbane return?” He murmured, easing slowly back around.
He could take the boy hostage. Hold him under tooth and claw just to be certain Bane would come for him.
“We have more in common than you think, Pteron.” Wyrm rumbled, forgetting his earlier accent in an instant. He slunk forward one step at a time. “There’s so much I could teach you …”
His fangs grew until they slid out from underneath his top lip. Quills sprouted up along his spine and stood at attention, waving and trembling every time he stepped nearer. The coyote was making as if to circle the young stallion. Fortuitously, the shape of his ears grew larger and thinner, just like a bats but fit for the size of a dog, and as he paused in preparation for a quick attack some faint, faraway rustling caught his attention and held him fast to the earth.
Wings. The kind meant for speed, not stealth. Someone was fast approaching and Wyrm had lost his opportunity to surprise-steal the boy. A raging snarl cut through the air, leaving the blind coyote to pin his ears and jerk back in frustration. Foiled by chance, he only had time to scurry back towards the safety of water, his quills and fearsome demeanor fading back into his body as he shifted mid-stride. He splashed into the quiet river and leapt without gauging distance, trusting the colt’s mention of a drop-off, and wriggled himself into the form of a minnow before dropping without much of a splash.
It didn’t matter. He could trail Pteron later; the weathered shifter had gotten what he came for.
@[Pteron]
He would remain in Loess then, like the boy who flicked his tail free and motioned towards the water ahead of them. Its crisp, sediment-rich waters had a slight tang of sulfur when he trotted forward to take a few laps from the surface, more so the smell than actual taste. No doubt it came from the hot springs which interwove themselves throughout the territory. “Oh, no need to worry over my safety.” The narrow little creature chuckled darkly, lifting his head.
“All alone in the big world, worried over a scavenger like myself.” He comments, turning his spry, eyeless head over one shoulder to eerily address Pteron. Water darkened his muzzle, dripping from his chin to wet the dust and grit underneath his clawed toes. The clicking that had originally drawn the young pegasus out to find him started up again, echoing from deep in Wyrm’s throat as he built a mental image of the yearling in his mind. It sounded unnatural, and it was. “Left to wait and wonder … when will Wolfbane return?” He murmured, easing slowly back around.
He could take the boy hostage. Hold him under tooth and claw just to be certain Bane would come for him.
“We have more in common than you think, Pteron.” Wyrm rumbled, forgetting his earlier accent in an instant. He slunk forward one step at a time. “There’s so much I could teach you …”
His fangs grew until they slid out from underneath his top lip. Quills sprouted up along his spine and stood at attention, waving and trembling every time he stepped nearer. The coyote was making as if to circle the young stallion. Fortuitously, the shape of his ears grew larger and thinner, just like a bats but fit for the size of a dog, and as he paused in preparation for a quick attack some faint, faraway rustling caught his attention and held him fast to the earth.
Wings. The kind meant for speed, not stealth. Someone was fast approaching and Wyrm had lost his opportunity to surprise-steal the boy. A raging snarl cut through the air, leaving the blind coyote to pin his ears and jerk back in frustration. Foiled by chance, he only had time to scurry back towards the safety of water, his quills and fearsome demeanor fading back into his body as he shifted mid-stride. He splashed into the quiet river and leapt without gauging distance, trusting the colt’s mention of a drop-off, and wriggled himself into the form of a minnow before dropping without much of a splash.
It didn’t matter. He could trail Pteron later; the weathered shifter had gotten what he came for.
@[Pteron]