taking steps is easy; standing still is hard
08-09-2013, 06:12 AM
It was strange, how he felt drawn to this girl. She was so innocent, so naive -- so preciously corruptible. Much like Basilisk had been only two seasons before. More cocky than he ought to be, so quick to rise to the occasion. Watching his father be slain had changed him, perhaps for the worse, tearing any semblance of childlike compassion from his heart. Even his gaze was cold and empty as he sized up Aegira, ever wondering why her scent seemed familiar. 'Just some dust and spiderwebs,' she explained the tears, and again he laughed, a low rumble that was barely audible as it fell from his lips. Would she actually die here unless he helped her find her way out? Or perhaps she would get lucky, and manage to find her way out? It didn't matter to him, and yet he felt strange upon considering leaving her here. It was then she noted his purple tint -- he snorted softly. 'Skin condition,' he mumbled dryly. Like his mother, his pelt was so dark to gleam purple in the sunlight -- or in the faint light that found its way into the crypts, wriggling through cracks in the stone and making the place just barely able to be navigated. "So, you're not crazy." No, this little kid seemed rather normal. Eyes narrowed again. "What's your name, anyway?" |
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