leonidas
holy places are dark places.
it is life and strength,
not knowledge and words,
that we get in them.
it is life and strength,
not knowledge and words,
that we get in them.
This was Novus’ maw. And there was little doubt in Leo’s mind of this fact.
The cave sighed and it groaned. It breathed cool damp air across the boy’s face and his heart thundered with the wild wonderings of what lay in the deep and the dark.
Around him the walls glowed with soft golden light. It moved with him, lit by the small golden antlers that had begun to grow atop is crown. Little more than a trunk and two fine prongs, his gilded antlers were small, but they gleamed as only golden metal can.
The boy watched the golden light play across the rough hewn walls of the cave. Oh, here was a place of mystery and wonder. It was a far cry from the forests he made his bed. Already this feral boy knew how to climb rock and tree. Already the trees were beckoning him up and how could they ever resist inviting him so? Leonidas was a boy of the golden wood. His mahogany skin was forest floor of wet, rich earth and his mane midnight and dawnlight: ebony fading like night into gold. But woven into his mane were leaves where his dam wore flowers. Hanging between the tines of his juvenile antlers were the vines of woodland.
His smile is deep and rugged. It is as riotous as a meadow sewn through with weeds and wild flowers. His laugh births a woodland as it tumbles from his lips and dancing through the cave as if it were made of tall trees and a carpet of leaves.
His heart rages in his chest like the rapids of the Rapax. It thunders in his ears and not even the low groan of the caves is enough to be heard. But the boy stands upon the cusp of the cave’s great tunnel. Oh, one tip of this strange cave and he would tumble into the darkness only to be lost in the labyrinthe of Abigo.
He might have dared a step. He might have tipped his weight forward and embarked upon this strange world except that footsteps echoed at the mouth of the cave. The wild-wood boy paused, turning, his ebony hair riotous atop his neck and brow. His gold eyes gleamed beetle bright as he drank in the bright of the world beyond the cave.
A small girl stepped out and Leo turned from the cave entrance. He stepped once, twice, thrice through the dim-dark. Until the light caught his golden antlers and the sunbright glow of his small, nestling wings, Leo was little but shadow. “Are you an adventuring kind of girl?” He asks as only a little boy can as his fine skull tilts to regard this new girl. So many, many girls. Leonidas has yet to even meet a boy… yet, young as he is, he barely thinks it strange and certainly not enough to warrant joy or consternation at the lack of any other little boys to play with. “I was about to find out what secrets hide in the caves..” He steps forward another step and his eyes glow lamplight bright. If he doesn’t notice the absence of boys, what Leo does notice is that all girls are beautiful. “Will you be my secret keeper?” He asks with a smile as wondrous as a feral fairy wood.
@Maret | "speaks" | notes: thank you for threading with him! Please bear with me whilst i work out how to write him and who he is!
