A talk.
10-21-2013, 06:28 PM
Someday, he would have to talk to his children. Perhaps individually -- he didn't know quite how they would reply when he finally told them his life would be ending soon. He could only hope he would be able to tell just how soon. He didn't want to die in the middle of the night, leaving his children bewildered and distraught; they had to be prepared. But today was not that day, and he could tell that Mercury was still painfully naive. Bronze would not ruin the fantasy that his parents would not live forever. He couldn't bear to see the joy leave his son's eyes; he'd rather see the admiration and pride that shone in those brilliantly-hued orbs. He watched him shuffle his posture, changing so drastically. And yet there was no hate there, but pure love and determination. He would not be afraid of his son. Not like Bronze had been of his father. "Good," he noted thoughtfully as he examined the boy's stance. A good start, but not perfect. Before he could give him any pointers, the boy snarled and leapt forward. Instinctively he shifted his own body, stance widening. Mercury was not huge, but he was certainly not a child still. He could do a bit of damage if he really wanted to. The man would shift, head swinging to attempt to latch onto Mercury's neck, though his grasp was light. There would be his first lesson -- leaving his throat so wide open could mean a quick and often painful death. His intentions were good, but he still couldn't help but feel vaguely guilty as he intercepted the attack and pushed his son lightly to the ground. |
