kor
He has to admit, in all of his preparation to interact with others for the first time in months, he wasn’t prepared to be welcomed by a fish-horse. Bears, lions, dragons even, but somehow he’s caught off guard by a fish. He’s still staring up at the sky when he hears the movement of the water — that alone isn’t enough to startle him — but when she speaks and he brings his eyes to hers, he jumps in place, surprised, and coughs in a weak attempt to cover it up. She’s tried her best to be respectful, to give him space and still, Kor looks as though he had never seen any kind of animal in a body of water before.
“Sorry,” he says, laughing nervously, “I am new, how’d you guess?”
He takes a few steps off the shore into the water, wading closer to the teal and white mare. She’s beautiful, which only makes him want to shrivel up and disappear even more than he wanted to already, but instead he looks into her eyes, doing his best to feign confidence.
“I try my best to stay out of trouble,” he pauses, and then, traveling deeper into the water, “but I’m not always successful.”
He’s immediately distracted, searching his mind for a water animal that he could shift into (to show off, naturally, in a very subtle way). His family had all been shifters, though they largely stuck to big cats and other predators. Kor had been different from them, though, not quite able to replicate the natural animals of his family — instead, he would end up as a monstrous lion with impenetrable fur or a giant, three-headed dog.
Lacking the words to will himself into a hippocampus, he pictures himself as the mare is — a sea horse — and becomes it: his head and neck normal, though now gilled, his back legs now a finned tail, his front hooves now webbed paws.
He dips his head underwater for a moment before surfacing with a grin, awfully proud of himself, and explains: “I’ve never met a fish before; it looked nice.”
“Sorry,” he says, laughing nervously, “I am new, how’d you guess?”
He takes a few steps off the shore into the water, wading closer to the teal and white mare. She’s beautiful, which only makes him want to shrivel up and disappear even more than he wanted to already, but instead he looks into her eyes, doing his best to feign confidence.
“I try my best to stay out of trouble,” he pauses, and then, traveling deeper into the water, “but I’m not always successful.”
He’s immediately distracted, searching his mind for a water animal that he could shift into (to show off, naturally, in a very subtle way). His family had all been shifters, though they largely stuck to big cats and other predators. Kor had been different from them, though, not quite able to replicate the natural animals of his family — instead, he would end up as a monstrous lion with impenetrable fur or a giant, three-headed dog.
Lacking the words to will himself into a hippocampus, he pictures himself as the mare is — a sea horse — and becomes it: his head and neck normal, though now gilled, his back legs now a finned tail, his front hooves now webbed paws.
He dips his head underwater for a moment before surfacing with a grin, awfully proud of himself, and explains: “I’ve never met a fish before; it looked nice.”
those eyes, caught by surprise
if i look again, oh, what’s gonna happen then?
if i look again, oh, what’s gonna happen then?