those bright crooked stars, man they're howlin’ out
thought you read them all right, had them all figured out
His wings looked more like delicate blades like the child of a predatorial bird as they rested against his sides, folded in so precisely. The dark blue gaze that settled briefly on each face around him was nearly black like his father's, but his mother's colors still held dominance and he was glad of that. He didn't have any say in what was going on, and he wasn't allowed to go find Mom. Too young. So he held close to his twin's side, his juvenile temper eased by her nearness.
He carried himself with a liquid grace not possessed by many children so young, a stoic calm he didn't realize was so similar to his father when he'd been this new to the world. The fluid movement, too.
But it was his mother's wicked sharp intelligence reflected in his eyes.
He was aware of his eldest sister near, Briella. She held herself even more regally than he did, quiet and with a brave heart that would withstand anything, he was pretty sure. She'd been places he would never go and held a wisdom others her age couldn't comprehend. Or so he'd been told. He was inclined to believe it.
A pair awaited them as they drew nearer and he surveyed them cooly. The red of his skin flared like fire beneath the beating sun of this land, reflecting off the pale white of his painted marks. Dark cobalt eyes slid from the smaller to the larger, studying the strange coat of scales.
For a moment, the red over the bones in his wings shimmered with faint scales, making his skin crawl. He grimaced minutely, jerking his small head in a tick, and rolling it out smoothly from his neck and shoulders, his stiff child feathers returning.
He dismissed the gray male, and settled back on the child at his side, his gaze steady and face impassive.
"He is our father," he took the lead long enough to answer evenly.
learned every constellation, just to find where you're at
