my words are unerring tools of destruction
Later, he will be sad that she has not seen his mother, but he is new. New enough that, in time, the loss will fade, and memories of Femur will take their place. It won't be instant, but he has a million and more years to sort through the complex feelings being adopted will bring upon him.
But today? Today he is really, really hungry. She doesn't have to invite him to her milk twice; the boy climbs to his feet, wobbling only a moment. His wings are half spread for balance, still so downy they are barely useful for flight (not that he's had anyone to teach him, anyway), and he takes the few quick steps to her side, reaching down to lock hungry lips around a teat and search for the warm, life-giving liquid. While he is nursing hungrily he leans into her warmth, the feeling comfortably familiar. Both fuzzy ears flick back to catch her praising words and one wing mantles slightly, preening under the compliment, though the other is tucked neatly between Gansey and Femur.
The colt drinks until he is not starving, and then a little more, because the simple joy in not being hungry is just so nice. But finally after a few mostly quiet moments of him nursing, curiosity gets the better of hunger and Gansey comes 'round the mare, brushing close as he walks around her haunches and back towards the front, looking up at her from where he lets himself stop, tucked against her right side. "Thank you," he chirps the words by rote; manners had at least been something mother had begun to teach him when they had encountered strangers in their few very short days of travels. The 'pleases' and 'thank you's' and 'excuse me's' that make polite society go round. "I'm Gansey," he adds after a moment's consideration.
But today? Today he is really, really hungry. She doesn't have to invite him to her milk twice; the boy climbs to his feet, wobbling only a moment. His wings are half spread for balance, still so downy they are barely useful for flight (not that he's had anyone to teach him, anyway), and he takes the few quick steps to her side, reaching down to lock hungry lips around a teat and search for the warm, life-giving liquid. While he is nursing hungrily he leans into her warmth, the feeling comfortably familiar. Both fuzzy ears flick back to catch her praising words and one wing mantles slightly, preening under the compliment, though the other is tucked neatly between Gansey and Femur.
The colt drinks until he is not starving, and then a little more, because the simple joy in not being hungry is just so nice. But finally after a few mostly quiet moments of him nursing, curiosity gets the better of hunger and Gansey comes 'round the mare, brushing close as he walks around her haunches and back towards the front, looking up at her from where he lets himself stop, tucked against her right side. "Thank you," he chirps the words by rote; manners had at least been something mother had begun to teach him when they had encountered strangers in their few very short days of travels. The 'pleases' and 'thank you's' and 'excuse me's' that make polite society go round. "I'm Gansey," he adds after a moment's consideration.
gansey
and I've become unequipped with the ability to disarm them
@[Femur] sorry these are short, still getting into him. :|