And she'll always get the best of me, the worst is yet to come
All the misery was necessary when we're deep in love
All the misery was necessary when we're deep in love
Mists and ghosts of water magic he touches, the serpents dissipating into the air before he can penetrate them. The water separating, leaving behind a veil of wet mist, that neither warms nor hides him. The trickles of moisture litter the air and fall in tiny crystal droplets against their skin, his anger not yet found as he looks around curiously at the display- delighting in the child’s mastery. It was so hard to hone gifts he could not assist them with, it was not as simple as a flying lesson on ripe ocean breezes.
The gentle relinquish of air pulls him back from his thoughts, back towards herself and the coo that she makes. Droplets of saline clinging heavily against the soft plumes of lilac that he so fiercely coveted, weighing them down in manner that he doesn’t necessarily care for.
As soon as his lips begin to droop, the wetness is whisked away, drawn from his body and returning him to his dry and pristine state. Well, that was better, that was quite smart he thought, because he hadn’t a chance to explain his distaste for unwanted filth. The sand was so terribly difficult to rid from his pillowy wings once it was wet.
Gently the water curls and forms wings of their own around the girls mottled frame, bending and flexing as deft as any wing before they too disappear. Kirin only smiles, fluttering his own set, fluffing them against the breeze and parading them like a fine showpiece. He side-steps a missed splatter, tilting his ears towards the daintiest of sounds. The supple sounds that formed his name when she repeats it, for memory or practice he doesn’t know. They said she had been left to die and the words could just simply be a reason to speak at all.
She could not see the untamed smile that flew up his cheeks at her next lilt, the compliment puffing him up and tingling down his spine. “Is it wise to envy one’s own brethren? I suppose in way I am more like them than you might believe, and altogether different in others.” Riddles and webbing woven from a calculated mind, hinting and hiding his nature in one go.
“Tell me does the sea too resent such a lovely little mermaid?” He reaches to touch her muzzle with his own, lipping gently her tiny nose. This gift he would keep, hold high on his shelf of things just like he did the icy beauty Wayra. He would have time to earn her love and trust, but what better time to begin?
The gentle relinquish of air pulls him back from his thoughts, back towards herself and the coo that she makes. Droplets of saline clinging heavily against the soft plumes of lilac that he so fiercely coveted, weighing them down in manner that he doesn’t necessarily care for.
As soon as his lips begin to droop, the wetness is whisked away, drawn from his body and returning him to his dry and pristine state. Well, that was better, that was quite smart he thought, because he hadn’t a chance to explain his distaste for unwanted filth. The sand was so terribly difficult to rid from his pillowy wings once it was wet.
Gently the water curls and forms wings of their own around the girls mottled frame, bending and flexing as deft as any wing before they too disappear. Kirin only smiles, fluttering his own set, fluffing them against the breeze and parading them like a fine showpiece. He side-steps a missed splatter, tilting his ears towards the daintiest of sounds. The supple sounds that formed his name when she repeats it, for memory or practice he doesn’t know. They said she had been left to die and the words could just simply be a reason to speak at all.
She could not see the untamed smile that flew up his cheeks at her next lilt, the compliment puffing him up and tingling down his spine. “Is it wise to envy one’s own brethren? I suppose in way I am more like them than you might believe, and altogether different in others.” Riddles and webbing woven from a calculated mind, hinting and hiding his nature in one go.
“Tell me does the sea too resent such a lovely little mermaid?” He reaches to touch her muzzle with his own, lipping gently her tiny nose. This gift he would keep, hold high on his shelf of things just like he did the icy beauty Wayra. He would have time to earn her love and trust, but what better time to begin?
Kirin
son of Khaos
