05-02-2020, 07:25 PM
SPIRIT
you set on me but you are not the sun
He understands now why his father always chose larger prey animals – they have more fight to them and their instincts do not cloud his own. But this lesson comes entirely too late. He hears her soft paws creeping closer and he braces for her attack. Dying was not the worst thing, Risk had told him. Rather than claws and teeth, however, it is her voice that reaches him. His round ears perk up and he peeks between his tiny clawed hands to look at her with bright green eyes. What is he? Slowly, suspiciously, he lowers his little arms and watches her.
The stranger he collided into comes circling back just then and he tilts his head at the remark. Soft? Him? He gives himself a few exploratory pats and discovers that he is indeed quite silky and fluffy. The squishy remark draws his gaze sharply upward, however, and he offers an offended sort of chittering.
And then the other boy changes to a towering version of Spirit. He lets out a startled bweep!” and cowers back. Oh, enough of this easily rattled shape, he thinks! He twists and bends until he is himself once more – smoky black with that odd blue marbling across his sides.
“No, you’re entirely too big. But at least you aren’t so easily trampled!” he offers with a warm sounding laugh before he turns to the cat. “I’m sorry for running. I get scared so easily when I’m tiny.”
And he laughs again, but this time the expression is more nervous and it is formed out of embarrassment as he tries to smile. Spirit has never made friends before and so it does not dawn on him how strange it is to have gathered not one but two other shifting children. After all, each of his parents take on other shapes all the time. It would seem more bizarre to him if these two always were trapped in the same bodies every second of every day.
“Oh! My name is Spirit, by the way. Who are you” he asks, his smile now more genuine and eager.
The stranger he collided into comes circling back just then and he tilts his head at the remark. Soft? Him? He gives himself a few exploratory pats and discovers that he is indeed quite silky and fluffy. The squishy remark draws his gaze sharply upward, however, and he offers an offended sort of chittering.
And then the other boy changes to a towering version of Spirit. He lets out a startled bweep!” and cowers back. Oh, enough of this easily rattled shape, he thinks! He twists and bends until he is himself once more – smoky black with that odd blue marbling across his sides.
“No, you’re entirely too big. But at least you aren’t so easily trampled!” he offers with a warm sounding laugh before he turns to the cat. “I’m sorry for running. I get scared so easily when I’m tiny.”
And he laughs again, but this time the expression is more nervous and it is formed out of embarrassment as he tries to smile. Spirit has never made friends before and so it does not dawn on him how strange it is to have gathered not one but two other shifting children. After all, each of his parents take on other shapes all the time. It would seem more bizarre to him if these two always were trapped in the same bodies every second of every day.
“Oh! My name is Spirit, by the way. Who are you” he asks, his smile now more genuine and eager.