erik post
Erik hunched his shoulders against the cold, cursing it. Some good that would do, but then, who was surprised? A bitter boy in a bitter world, but then, he’s never been just a boy. Something far worse lurked in him, though perhaps boys are already bad enough.
Enough.
A concept that still weighs heavy on the mind of the boy. Though he was beginning to grow into himself as well… they call it husky, when you’re a young boy. Erik is a brick shithouse already, though it would take some time for his height to catch up. Every day, it seems he grows stronger. Sharper. More suspicious.
He wasn’t following Maki. Not like he followed Morg, and Delphi to an extent too. Maki hadn’t been his to worry about. So no Erik wasn’t following her, but he’d gone out to see if he could track the clouds across the sky from a better angle. The hail was weird, he’s not sure what to think. The boy had been perched upon the wall, just out of view, watching.
Watching enough to see Maki damn near get flattened. Erik sprung to life from his shadowy spot, the glimmer of pale teeth and orange crystal. A breath later, and he’s beside her, fixing the stranger with a burning gaze. “Y’hurt?” Though the words are directed at Maki, Erik’s eye doesn’t track away from the stranger. The words are ragged, frayed around the edges. Though his voice has started to drop, the curse would still take its pound of flesh. Not the voice of a young boy, perhaps the voice of the cryptid you wish to (don’t wish to, depending on your feelings on cryptids) meet in the woods.
"Speech"
