08-14-2019, 06:55 PM
”Thank you,” he replies steadily, holding his voice so it doesn’t waver and betray his unreliable confidence. Erio wants to be like her, to possess an air of comfort and respect, but it’s almost comical to see his small head lift higher as though to look down his nose. Everyone is taller than him, and so it will forever be him looking up at the greaters, at his superiors. Surely, he will never be able to command the trust and respect of others.
But Dracarys is convinced otherwise.
When she looks at him, she sees something greater in him, but he isn’t quite certain what that is. His nutmeg eyes watch her and search her expressions as they perfectly adapt to every word and every bit of their conversation. He observes as she assumes mother will be okay; he doesn’t doubt that, but he neither agrees with her. Erio’s mouth is a thin line of contemplation, his gaze hooded until his sibling compares him to father. It incites a grin, broad in nature that reaches every corner of his face. ”I’ll take that as a compliment,” because to be as strong and fearsome as father would be a great honor. If only he could be a perfect portrayal, but maybe, just maybe, he could inherit father’s wit if not his brawn. ”You should visit. I think I might stay there,” he muses and considers the option with a furrowed brow, ”but I’m not too sure. I can’t do much now, but when I grow up, perhaps I can take a stab at diplomacy.” A small shrug rolls through his shoulders, not yet entirely committed to the idea.
In his mind, however, he sees only what is versus what can be. Erio’s youth plays against him, limiting his perception of the world and his ability to imagine beyond mother’s opinions.
A hesitant bite of his lip and a fallen stare, too afraid to accept her sentiment, silences him. ”I don’t know… I feel like mom would be kind of smart. She’s so much older than us,” ancient is the word that comes to mind, but it never makes it to his lips. Although she isn’t withered and gray, there’s often the idea that parents are hundreds of years older than their children, and that age should automatically make them wiser. But maybe where she isn’t – where mother is weak – he could be greater. ”Maybe if I’m witty and valuable in other ways than fighting…” he thinks aloud with a spreading grin and a head tilt when he finally tries to meet his sister’s eyes. ”You’re so much nicer and cooler than mom.”
But Dracarys is convinced otherwise.
When she looks at him, she sees something greater in him, but he isn’t quite certain what that is. His nutmeg eyes watch her and search her expressions as they perfectly adapt to every word and every bit of their conversation. He observes as she assumes mother will be okay; he doesn’t doubt that, but he neither agrees with her. Erio’s mouth is a thin line of contemplation, his gaze hooded until his sibling compares him to father. It incites a grin, broad in nature that reaches every corner of his face. ”I’ll take that as a compliment,” because to be as strong and fearsome as father would be a great honor. If only he could be a perfect portrayal, but maybe, just maybe, he could inherit father’s wit if not his brawn. ”You should visit. I think I might stay there,” he muses and considers the option with a furrowed brow, ”but I’m not too sure. I can’t do much now, but when I grow up, perhaps I can take a stab at diplomacy.” A small shrug rolls through his shoulders, not yet entirely committed to the idea.
In his mind, however, he sees only what is versus what can be. Erio’s youth plays against him, limiting his perception of the world and his ability to imagine beyond mother’s opinions.
A hesitant bite of his lip and a fallen stare, too afraid to accept her sentiment, silences him. ”I don’t know… I feel like mom would be kind of smart. She’s so much older than us,” ancient is the word that comes to mind, but it never makes it to his lips. Although she isn’t withered and gray, there’s often the idea that parents are hundreds of years older than their children, and that age should automatically make them wiser. But maybe where she isn’t – where mother is weak – he could be greater. ”Maybe if I’m witty and valuable in other ways than fighting…” he thinks aloud with a spreading grin and a head tilt when he finally tries to meet his sister’s eyes. ”You’re so much nicer and cooler than mom.”
erio
@[Dracarys]