Firion had become that dark, dangerous secret too young to worry about what else the Forest may hold. He was the thing that stumbled through the dark—gnashing his teeth and hunting for things that would make his stomach turn when in his right mind. He found that he far preferred to be this kind of secret. The kind that skittered along the shadows—that followed young magicians like Cheri. That whispered in her mind and then floated away, watching from afar with keen eyes despite the darkness surrounding them.
He feels her curiosity and the fact that she is not afraid stirs his excitement.
He was tired of being the thing that others were frightened of.
As if in response to the thought, he sends out a wave of that excitement toward her. A feeling of coy intrigue. Of playfulness. Of his own curiosity. It wasn’t an invasive emotion, but it was a signal toward her that, at least tonight, he was not anything that she would need to fear—would need to fight.
“I think I would remember meeting you,” his voice whispers into her mind once more, a dark chuckle near the end of it. As the shadows once more, he winds toward one of the trees and then rises up it, skirting along the branches so that he can get a better vantage point. When there, he shifts into something slightly more tangible, a lizard whose feet stick to the wood, gripping it easily.
His still unnamed companion slinks behind him, refusing to take a form as though it could voice its disapproval of his antics by not partaking. Firion’s amusement is not affected. “You look like a beacon in the middle of the Forest,” he remarks from above, the wind the only sound around them. Angling his reptilian head and looking down, he stays quiet once more, wondering how she would react.
so as our grief falls flat and hollow upon a billion blooded seas
all our worst ideas are borrowed (you do and don't belong to me)
@Cheri