i bloom, i grow

[crowns]

CrownS

He moves quietly in the dead of night, stalking between the towering trees as he imagines he is some fearsome predator. Crowns rarely prefers to change his shape, and so he keeps his own form, but he keeps his head lowered closer to the ground as he imagines a wolf might. Every step is poised and planned, careful so as not to break a single twig underfoot. He must be as silent as a winter death.

It helps that the drizzling rain pitter-patters down fat spring leaves on the tree branches overhead. An occasional flash of lightning illuminates the faint glow of his oceanic eyes while distant thunder rumbles the ground beneath him. There is nothing in particular that he is stalking, but he enjoys his game of pretend. He has no idea how to track prey animals or how to stalk them once he manages to find one. It is simply enough to imagine he is some fearsome apex predator in his own territory.

And then he spots her - something pale and pretty.

She looks small like the twins. Where are her parents? He tilts his head and wonders before deciding he will scare her and teach her that being alone is not safe. Then, he will help her find her way home. Or to Tephra, whichever he decides.

Crowns moves faster and leaps each time the lightning flashes across the sky so that the clap of thunder disguises his strides. It doesn’t take long for him to circle around her and pounce in front of the small girl with his wings spread wide.

“Boo!” he shouts, his glowing eyes wide as he laughs gently.

you got me on my knees; i'm your one-man cult.

@[Galadriel]

[galadriel]

The thunderstorms called to her because they remind her of the overwhelming emotions she can't ever seem to control. Loud claps and sizzling strikes are the exact embodiment of the inflation in her chest. Wild, untameable, dangerous.

Mother often told her not to go running through the storms, or go running anywhere; but there was hardly any discipline behind the chiding, and they always felt more like gentle suggestions than hard rules (and even if Galadriel knew such a thing as a hard rule, she wouldn't know how to follow it - she'd almost certainly scream at it). So, when the thunderstorms clapped a beat, Galadriel danced. The feral, sharp-tongued child danced like a wild thing, both mimicking nature in it's elegance and war in its violence.

The living embodiment of a thunderstorm.

Crowns thinks her pale and pretty (and she is, so deceptively delicate), but the frothing at her mouth and lightning in her eyes speak of something entirely different. A near monster. Bucking and flailing and squealing at the sky so eager to provide her music.

Galadriel doesn't see Crowns, can't sense him without her sight. He does startle her, forcing her rabid dance to come to end. All four of her legs stand still and straight, her wide and dark eyes glowing blank in shock. Boo! The girl jumps back, immediately finding the sour look she so often carries.

"Boo!" she screeches back, bristling. "What'd you do that for?" the question comes as a yell, a warning sign for a fit she might throw. She's furious.

---

@[crowns]

[crowns]

CrownS

Sabbath never told him not to do anything. Instead, she merely followed at a distance and warned him of any impending danger. She could predict when he would fall and scuff his knees or when a vine was about to trip him. Whether he proceeded or not was entirely his own decision. With time, he has learned to see some of what she sees when she watches him running through the jungle. It helps him stalk Galadriel tonight as he searches the forest floor for anything that may give him away or send him tumbling to the ground.

He doesn’t try to stifle the laughter that comes spilling over his lips when she squeals out in fear. Perhaps some flash of guilt should have spread through him, but he lacks even a shred of remorse when she scowls up at him with such sweet eyes. Well, perhaps only sweet from where he’s standing, but the fact remains irrelevant to him for now.

Crowns begins to circle her, the wildfire of his eyes glowing bright now as his grin refuses to calm itself into something more humble. “Why would I do anything?” he asks as his circle grows tighter until his shoulder is brushing hers. “Because it was fun!” And he says it as though the answer should have been obvious all along. And it’s true, he has only ever done whatever pleases him most.

“So what’s your name, scaredy-cat?” he teases as he comes to a stop in front of her, standing perpendicular so he seems larger than perhaps he really is. “I’m Crowns.”

you got me on my knees; i'm your one-man cult.

@[galadriel]