pink bleeds gold / and red spills into one's heart
Atlas had never met a Kelpie, though, like any good, land-bound person, he’d heard their horror stories. For some, they raised goosebumps and sent chills down spines; for him, they were a momentary fascination, nothing more. Atlas did not believe in horror stories and premonitions, especially not racially charged ones based in biased myth. He did not need fantastical tales of sharp-fanged, predatory beasts to scare his heart to rapid beats and make him feel alive-- no, Atlas had seen scary, lived it, and felt certain most Kelpies did not possess the same power of cultivating terror simply in their being. What land-bound creature does not automatically feel uneased in the water? Take a way the strength of a creature’s mobility and instinct will kick in. No person is as good a swimmer as they are a walker, a runner.
Well, present company excepted, of course.
Still, Bel’s summations hit the nail on the head; was he such an easy creature to read? Nashira would have scolded him. He made a mental note to practice controlling his expression and dipped his chin in excusation. “I apologize if I seem intrusive. I assure you I am like this all the time. With everyone.” He winced. It was a terrible way to try and explain he was curious about most everything.
Her point of divulging she was not a Kelpie earned him a blink. “It wouldn’t matter to me if you were,” he said, earnest. Most of it was a genuine inability to judge books by their proverbial covers, but somewhere, deep down, there was a lack of concern at his own mortality. If a secret Kelpie wanted to help themselves to his blood and flesh and divest him of his life, he wouldn’t mind, really. They had to eat too, right?
“We had celebrations like this back in my homeland,” he said, allowing himself to reminisce on some of the things that were not horrible about Zukai. “It seemed a poor pageantry there, swirling fire in the middle of a desert. Find me someone who can dance with ice, then I’d be impressed.” But that was there and not here. “We had our own version of Kelpies as well, but they were much more like me than you.” Great, blind beasts covered in rock-like skin and large sand-sails that dug through the desert like ravenous moles, following the feeling of footsteps against the earth to their next meal.
He’d learned early in his traveling days to steer clear of their oceans.
Well, present company excepted, of course.
Still, Bel’s summations hit the nail on the head; was he such an easy creature to read? Nashira would have scolded him. He made a mental note to practice controlling his expression and dipped his chin in excusation. “I apologize if I seem intrusive. I assure you I am like this all the time. With everyone.” He winced. It was a terrible way to try and explain he was curious about most everything.
Her point of divulging she was not a Kelpie earned him a blink. “It wouldn’t matter to me if you were,” he said, earnest. Most of it was a genuine inability to judge books by their proverbial covers, but somewhere, deep down, there was a lack of concern at his own mortality. If a secret Kelpie wanted to help themselves to his blood and flesh and divest him of his life, he wouldn’t mind, really. They had to eat too, right?
“We had celebrations like this back in my homeland,” he said, allowing himself to reminisce on some of the things that were not horrible about Zukai. “It seemed a poor pageantry there, swirling fire in the middle of a desert. Find me someone who can dance with ice, then I’d be impressed.” But that was there and not here. “We had our own version of Kelpies as well, but they were much more like me than you.” Great, blind beasts covered in rock-like skin and large sand-sails that dug through the desert like ravenous moles, following the feeling of footsteps against the earth to their next meal.
He’d learned early in his traveling days to steer clear of their oceans.
