CrownS
Sabbath didn’t always let him wander far from her side. She never said it, but she knew the pain of loss too intimately to risk anything happening to him. He used to think she was just an overbearing mother until Eucharist explained that his twin and his father were gone, that their eldest sister had died before their mother’s eyes. Crowns always worried about getting home before sunset after that.
He lifts his sapphire head to check the sun’s position before he slinks into the frigid winter waters of the river. There is more than enough time for him to see how long he can fight the current today. The water hisses and bubbles where it meets his skin, already steaming from the contact against his skin. It brings a smile to his face and then he plunges his head beneath the surface. Crowns walks along the riverbed for as long as his breath will allow.
And then something in him lifts its head. Like calls to like, and he is drawn to the shore.
At first only his small ears protrude, swiveling about until they catch the sound of nervous breathing. Then, like a crocodile, he lifts his eyes above the surface. He hesitates before combing his fingers through her thoughts. The images of war and monsters mean little to him, but her memory of her mother makes him finally climb out of the water, dripping and steaming in the merciless winter chill.
He spreads his wings and gives his body a little shake to hurry its drying along. “It’s a little cold to be out here alone, don’t you think?” he asks with a gentle smile. Crowns would like to immediately invite her to Tephra, but he worries he doesn’t understand her thoughts quite right or that she might take offense to his prying. Grandfather always seemed irritated when he skimmed his memories to understand him better.
“My name is Crowns. I live in a spooky jungle,” he explains, stopping with plenty of room between them. The ancient serpent thrumming in his core knows that she belongs with them, but it is a patient monster; it will drag her home in time.
He lifts his sapphire head to check the sun’s position before he slinks into the frigid winter waters of the river. There is more than enough time for him to see how long he can fight the current today. The water hisses and bubbles where it meets his skin, already steaming from the contact against his skin. It brings a smile to his face and then he plunges his head beneath the surface. Crowns walks along the riverbed for as long as his breath will allow.
And then something in him lifts its head. Like calls to like, and he is drawn to the shore.
At first only his small ears protrude, swiveling about until they catch the sound of nervous breathing. Then, like a crocodile, he lifts his eyes above the surface. He hesitates before combing his fingers through her thoughts. The images of war and monsters mean little to him, but her memory of her mother makes him finally climb out of the water, dripping and steaming in the merciless winter chill.
He spreads his wings and gives his body a little shake to hurry its drying along. “It’s a little cold to be out here alone, don’t you think?” he asks with a gentle smile. Crowns would like to immediately invite her to Tephra, but he worries he doesn’t understand her thoughts quite right or that she might take offense to his prying. Grandfather always seemed irritated when he skimmed his memories to understand him better.
“My name is Crowns. I live in a spooky jungle,” he explains, stopping with plenty of room between them. The ancient serpent thrumming in his core knows that she belongs with them, but it is a patient monster; it will drag her home in time.