do you think God stays in his heaven because he, too, lives in fear of what he has created?
Is he lonely? He does not know the word. Ghaul only knows the ache as he sits, facing the night sky blindly with his wings limp around like a security blanket. His chest feels hollow as he waits out his first night without his father or his mother here to hold him while he slumbers. The canyons are cold and the wind whips through them, chilling him as he feels a shiver run up his spine. This is the deadest hour of night – when the birds all refuse to sing and the prey animals are tucked in their burrows.
He croons, a melancholy sound, in the hopes that someone will hear and heed his call. Gospel never sleeps near him and Clarissa does not dare leave the borders of Loess once the sun has set on them. The fledgling gives another hopeful chirp, jaw lifted to the sky as he gives his pitiful cry, only for the night to fall deaf around him, uncaring. The boy lets out a sigh until he hears the sound of the dirt crunching quietly under small hooves. At first, he freezes and only an ear swivels in her direction, curious but hesitant to get his hopes up.
But the steps draw nearer and he finds himself rising onto his talons with his head turned in her direction now. Had she heard his call? Excitedly, he gives a more cheerful chirp before skittering closer, wings tucked properly at his sides now. The blind child circles her with his thin tail whipping nervously left and right, left and right. She does not burn brightly like Clarissa or coolly like Gospel, but somewhere in between, like many others. Still, he’s pleased to have anyone at all to waste the time away with.
He would like to bump her cheek the way he often does towards the ones he likes, but he manages to contain his delight for now. Instead, he ceases his endless circling before her and merely paws the dirt with sharp talons.
“I was alone, but you are now here,” he observes, grinning with his mouth full of crooked little crocodile teeth. “I am called Ghaul. You are who?”
The little drake swallows nervously but remains in place, still resisting the urge to invade her personal space. His self-control has improved remarkably over the past few days. Only a week prior, he would have snatched her up in his wings and preened at her mane! But he has finally learned that some do not enjoy such immediate affections nor do they share in his desire for closeness.
@[greta] he views her as a teddy bear right now but i'm sure soon he'll see her as an actual person. maybe. probably.