wicked games

*Lark* · 03-19-2015, 07:54 AM

For some time, he found himself mesmerized by the rapids. Part of him wanted to try to cross, though he knew slipping could mean serious injury or even death, something he would never do to his family. Even if he fell, he knew his voice could fall on deaf ears, drowned out by the roar of the river. It was a chance he was not willing to take.

The serene moment was interrupted by the arrival of a stranger. Lark caught a whiff of his scent before he spoke, but he only turned to face him when he spoke. His scent was of Abaven, so the initial rush of protectiveness that flooded him subsided as quickly as it had arrived. "Yes," he'd answer quite matter-of-factly, finding the question strange. Why would he be here if he wasn't enjoying it? The child nodded slowly. "Who are you?" His demeanor was blunt and straightforward, his gaze wary as he watched him.

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