YADIGAR
there’s a hole in my chest but it’s mine, baby, it’s all i got.
“We better!” Virgil calls to his elder sister as he laughs over his shoulder. He slips through the trees, letting them melt right through him with the gift Craft and Anatomy gave him. Above them, Yadigar looks so small as he glides over the towering pines of Taiga. It takes everything the angelic boy has to keep up while also looking back to be sure Asphyxea doesn’t get left behind. Of all their siblings, he finds that she is the most like him in many ways.
Yadigar lands ahead of them and uses his momentum to ease into a gallop. His talons tear up clumps of dirt and grasses that make it rather easy for his siblings and any other Pangeans to track him. But his attention lies solely on the world around him, how awful every inch of this earth feels. The sea of cold blues and greens must turn to reds and whites, he thinks. And so he exhales a brilliant, billowing flame that does exactly that.
His brother gives a cry of excitement as he veers left to mimic the destruction. Being younger, however, his flame is only half as magnificent as the crowned prince. Still, he is delighted to see the grasses sway in the wind as they pass the flame on to the other greenery. Virgil turns to Phyx with a grin. Yadigar does not pause to admire their work. He continues on with his tail thrashing angrily behind him, snarling between every sweeping breath of fire.
“Phyx stay close to me, okay? I don’t wanna get lost,” Virgil says, still giggling as he continues torching the northern territory. He wouldn’t get lost, of course, but he prefers the safety of her guidance while Gar seems to have lost himself to the ravenous need to destroy Nerine.
He briefly wonders if he could nudge his elder brother over the cliff and make it look like an accident. Just another loss for the noble cause.
Yadigar lands ahead of them and uses his momentum to ease into a gallop. His talons tear up clumps of dirt and grasses that make it rather easy for his siblings and any other Pangeans to track him. But his attention lies solely on the world around him, how awful every inch of this earth feels. The sea of cold blues and greens must turn to reds and whites, he thinks. And so he exhales a brilliant, billowing flame that does exactly that.
His brother gives a cry of excitement as he veers left to mimic the destruction. Being younger, however, his flame is only half as magnificent as the crowned prince. Still, he is delighted to see the grasses sway in the wind as they pass the flame on to the other greenery. Virgil turns to Phyx with a grin. Yadigar does not pause to admire their work. He continues on with his tail thrashing angrily behind him, snarling between every sweeping breath of fire.
“Phyx stay close to me, okay? I don’t wanna get lost,” Virgil says, still giggling as he continues torching the northern territory. He wouldn’t get lost, of course, but he prefers the safety of her guidance while Gar seems to have lost himself to the ravenous need to destroy Nerine.
He briefly wonders if he could nudge his elder brother over the cliff and make it look like an accident. Just another loss for the noble cause.