He agrees.
An expression of happiness sits across her maw in a smug smile, her pate rising, chest puffed out. Oh, how she loves it when they agree. She likes to be right, adores it even. Displaying body language coinciding with her feelings, making this very clear. Her dark orbs light up at his words, a syrupy melody to her cochlea. ”Of course he is, he is perfect. I couldn’t be more pleased, and his wings. Just imagine him chasing them down from on high.” It was wistful, perhaps a mothers dream for Killgore. What more could she want than for her child to terrorize others from the sky? She really couldn’t think of anything else right now, no this was her grand ideal, for now.
More so she is happy that Kirin remembers what she has taught him. Standing straight, looking in the eyes, confidence, confidence! A beautiful plum hued prince, he was nothing less in her eyes. No son of hers would be a mewling whelp, meek and cowering. She wouldn’t have it, wouldn’t allow it. It was all in how you raised them, what they were shown. She of course instructed him first and foremost on his position in life, his status. He was important, he had purpose, and he would be great. Especially if he believed, that’s what made it all true, one own convictions. The boy is smart, perhaps too smart for his own good, she would have to be vigilant.
She watches them admiringly as they interact; Khaos appears pleased with the boy. His ivories bare, but the gesture does not come across as forced. Kirin is presenting himself well; it could not have been more perfect. His father goes even further by asking the child about himself, her ears swivel to catch the boy’s tones. He had better say something good, she thought.
