10-20-2021, 06:13 AM
When she closes her eyes (the expression of sadness and self-control an unfamiliar one to the dark-haired boy), Malik’s frown deepens. Why will his mother not look at him? He is sure of his answers, and yet still it seems they are not right.
Malik does not have his father’s Healing, and the fear of death - true Death - is one of the few repeated lessons that he received from the brindle stallion. He would eat his mother’s heart if it would gain him Power, that he knows. But only if it would not mean she were gone Forever. No shifting is worth that - not wyvern or even dragon.
But he doesn’t know how to reassure her of this, or even suspect she fears it. Instead, he looks back and forth between the dragon and the wyvern until his mother speaks again. This time, her eyes are open, and he searches her gaze unconsciously for the sparks that precede fire. Nothing at all, only another lesson.
He listens carefully, because despite her fears, he is not entirely detached from the parents who raised him, and his young heart does want to believe her. She speaks of a cycle, and Malik nods, because that does fit with what he’s been told before. He is still not entirely sure why he should not kill the wyvern or why chaos is no longer desirable, but it is clear his mother feels this way, and he decides that he, too, will try.
Try, of course, being quite operative.
He steps away when she warns him too, allowing the wyvern passage from the cave. It skirts the leopard holding the pearlescent claw, and leaps into the open air. The boy watches it go, hearing the sharp calls it gives to its fellows echoing against the salt-stained cliffs. When he turns back to his mother, she is looking at him from a more familiar face than the dragon’s.
She tells him that she loves him, and Malik smiles. She doesn’t say it often, so it feels good to hear it. Even better, when he still feels certain he had just somehow disappointed her. Hearing it means she is in a good mood, so Malik takes advantage and sidles just a little closer to her, so he might rest his head on her shoulder. He had learned young to tuck himself close to his parents only after they’d come back from a successful hunt, when they were most tolerant. This feels like such a time.
@Mazikeen
Malik does not have his father’s Healing, and the fear of death - true Death - is one of the few repeated lessons that he received from the brindle stallion. He would eat his mother’s heart if it would gain him Power, that he knows. But only if it would not mean she were gone Forever. No shifting is worth that - not wyvern or even dragon.
But he doesn’t know how to reassure her of this, or even suspect she fears it. Instead, he looks back and forth between the dragon and the wyvern until his mother speaks again. This time, her eyes are open, and he searches her gaze unconsciously for the sparks that precede fire. Nothing at all, only another lesson.
He listens carefully, because despite her fears, he is not entirely detached from the parents who raised him, and his young heart does want to believe her. She speaks of a cycle, and Malik nods, because that does fit with what he’s been told before. He is still not entirely sure why he should not kill the wyvern or why chaos is no longer desirable, but it is clear his mother feels this way, and he decides that he, too, will try.
Try, of course, being quite operative.
He steps away when she warns him too, allowing the wyvern passage from the cave. It skirts the leopard holding the pearlescent claw, and leaps into the open air. The boy watches it go, hearing the sharp calls it gives to its fellows echoing against the salt-stained cliffs. When he turns back to his mother, she is looking at him from a more familiar face than the dragon’s.
She tells him that she loves him, and Malik smiles. She doesn’t say it often, so it feels good to hear it. Even better, when he still feels certain he had just somehow disappointed her. Hearing it means she is in a good mood, so Malik takes advantage and sidles just a little closer to her, so he might rest his head on her shoulder. He had learned young to tuck himself close to his parents only after they’d come back from a successful hunt, when they were most tolerant. This feels like such a time.
@Mazikeen