A S T E R I O N
in sunshine and in shadow*
Asterion has no reference point from which to place such distinct wings – his time in Novus has been brief, and most of it spent well within the confines of the Dusk Court – and so the only thing his expression holds is mild wonder as he watches them move, swift and soft as a sparrow’s.
It is best, perhaps, that he is ignorant to the boy’s parentage. The mix of Night and Day would make him think no differently – but the colt’s father is another matter.
But any thoughts of Tor (still a faceless stranger; nothing but a name and a lance of the closest thing to anger Asterion has ever felt) are far from his mind at the moment.
Alas, his warmer thoughts do not last. The bay’s dark eyes briefly widen at Isorath’s name, and he looks away to cover his discomfort. He had wondered if he would see the kirin while he was in Denocte; something low and dark twisted in his belly at the thought of the man who had begun to teach him to read, the man whose title he now held.
Politics seem to him a different kind of trial than the others he had faced. Asterion prefers the monsters that did not hide their teeth.
Still he wears a smile by the time he turns back to the stranger. “I agree that it is,” he says, and does not add though I do not think he’d say so any longer. “And curiosity is always welcome here. My name is Asterion, and I would be happy to show you the city.” His smile is still slight, but no less true. “Where are you visiting us from?”
@Cynix eee he's so cute
