11-20-2019, 04:48 PM
Aodhán
little fire
All that is gold does not glitter; not all who wander are lost
Aodhán-the-parrot ruffles his wings and casually adjusts his feathers when Pteron arrives, not bothered at all. It was not the first time he’d used shifting to his advantage and be named cheater for it, and he had bigger fish to fry in his life than be upset by a friend who didn’t really mean it - of course, he had his own remark. ”Oh, I thought I smelled a rotten egg. One that can’t take his losses perhaps.” If he could smirk, he certainly would, but there was something else that was more disturbing.
The colourful bird squawks when Pteron somewhat-insults his children; though honestly Aodhán would not mind a seagull or puffin shifter, he can’t let this winged rotten egg hurt his or his kids’ honour. He puffs his feathers and chest, ”Oh I’ll show you puffin alright!” he changes form only for a heartbeat, making a quick lunge for the light-coloured horseleges with his puffin-sharp beak; if he draws a small cut then Pteron can surely handle.
Distracted with the arrival of the younger nereid, he assumes the pre-existing form of the parrot once more, flapping towards her a little (better get away from any repercussions by Pteron) - but lands far enough away not to get eaten by Aquaria, just to be safe. He greets her nonetheless, spreading his wings in a bow and happily flying up to sit on Pteron’s head. ”We discovered we both had a liking for Ischians. Might as well say hi. I just hope you’ve had breakfast.” he tells her. Blinking happily at her, the arrival of a colt and his mother gives a little more pause, any jests forgotten in the moment.
The dam and colt arrive the way any mother and child would; the colt reminds him of the way Aeolus had burst out of the Ischian jungle as soon as he bad been called, to meet his sister, though he certainly had been more mouthy in his older age. Still, it makes him smile, and, as Adria obviously didn’t know he wasn't just any parrot at all, decide that a change of form would benefit all.
A quick hop off Pteron’s head into an empty space of sand, he simultaneously shifts. Not into a horse, as that would be a rough landing on his hind and possibly gain him a broken leg, but a white fossa, another animal native to Ischia. His cat-like head moves to smile disarmingly in the direction of the other horses; he knew it was a predator’s shape, but he felt like staying with the island theme; besides, he could make a fossa look cuter than it was, eyes slightly larger, head a bit rounder - minor adjustments that appeal to a mother’s eye.
He’s not here to eat anyone, after all.
The colourful bird squawks when Pteron somewhat-insults his children; though honestly Aodhán would not mind a seagull or puffin shifter, he can’t let this winged rotten egg hurt his or his kids’ honour. He puffs his feathers and chest, ”Oh I’ll show you puffin alright!” he changes form only for a heartbeat, making a quick lunge for the light-coloured horseleges with his puffin-sharp beak; if he draws a small cut then Pteron can surely handle.
Distracted with the arrival of the younger nereid, he assumes the pre-existing form of the parrot once more, flapping towards her a little (better get away from any repercussions by Pteron) - but lands far enough away not to get eaten by Aquaria, just to be safe. He greets her nonetheless, spreading his wings in a bow and happily flying up to sit on Pteron’s head. ”We discovered we both had a liking for Ischians. Might as well say hi. I just hope you’ve had breakfast.” he tells her. Blinking happily at her, the arrival of a colt and his mother gives a little more pause, any jests forgotten in the moment.
The dam and colt arrive the way any mother and child would; the colt reminds him of the way Aeolus had burst out of the Ischian jungle as soon as he bad been called, to meet his sister, though he certainly had been more mouthy in his older age. Still, it makes him smile, and, as Adria obviously didn’t know he wasn't just any parrot at all, decide that a change of form would benefit all.
A quick hop off Pteron’s head into an empty space of sand, he simultaneously shifts. Not into a horse, as that would be a rough landing on his hind and possibly gain him a broken leg, but a white fossa, another animal native to Ischia. His cat-like head moves to smile disarmingly in the direction of the other horses; he knew it was a predator’s shape, but he felt like staying with the island theme; besides, he could make a fossa look cuter than it was, eyes slightly larger, head a bit rounder - minor adjustments that appeal to a mother’s eye.
He’s not here to eat anyone, after all.
@[Pteron] you’re up next I suppose
Shelbi, still welcome to join whenever you want to, of course