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Post by Hawk on Aug 25, 2008 19:49:00 GMT -6
The wind blew through the leaves, their hum the only noise that interrupted the otherwise silent night. Cyanea shivered slightly, thankful for the cloak that was often so burdensome. Though usually a weight to bear in the generally temperate zone, his warmer core body temperature was a blessing on nights like this. One of the only ones in his otherwise overly complicated life.
Tonight marked the most recent in a history of departures from temporary homes. In this case he had simply reached his one year time limit for staying in one place. A small accomplishment, but it made leaving that much harder. He was beyond caring about the pain, however. He knew that he didn’t visibly age, that if discovered he could bring down trouble upon the village. But, as he yawned and wished it were possible to depart subtly in the daytime, he couldn’t help the yearning that overwhelmed his tired mind…
Honestly, he really did wish he could spend more time with a group of friends; of humans, he had to remind himself to call them. Such a weird thought, to separate their two kinds in his mind. It was one of those things that never quite stuck, try as he could to remember it.
‘A living testament to the theory that the facts taught to you as a child reign supreme?’ he wondered idly, as he scanned his surroundings for a place to rest. Spotting a naturally formed grassy trench barricaded by trees a couple hundred feet into the roadside forest, stepped off the path in its general direction, sleepiness and memories fogging his attention.
He’d had so many friends when he was very young, before he knew his differences mattered and set him apart. Taught that he was simpy special and had to hide his abnormal qualities like a game, his younger self had accepted his life so much easier. And they still had to move around, but his family would spend three or four years in one place at a time, giving him time to set down roots, meet companions. Like the blacksmith’s son in one village, who would spar with him and never win, but still continue to smile and challenge him again; the daughter of the seamstress in another, who gave clothes to their family, who would slip him little trinkets and toys; the butchers in yet another home, a close couple always happy to take him into their home and keep him entertained with myths and stories...
So lost was he in his thoughts that he half-tripped into his chosen bed of sorts. Glaring at it for a moment in place of himself, he quickly forgave it its trespass and settled in, pulling his cloak tighter around him. And, memories bright in his mind and loneliness heavy on his heart, he drifted off to a fitful sleep.
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Post by ElliBleu on Aug 28, 2008 16:26:57 GMT -6
It was cold and the air was a bit too thin this high for even efficient dragon lungs. Gwenaeste's breath formed a cloud of mist at each exhalation that condensed on the soft blue scales of his snout. Wings outstretched and stiff he let the cold streamline carry him, grateful for the ease of travel despite the uncomfortable clime.
A sudden lurch to the left his eyes snapping open, unaware that they had drifted closed. A few tired, but strong, wingbeats righted himself again, heart still pounding in alarm. Te chill, thin air, and prior days of travel seemed to finally be taking their toll and Gwen began an easy spiral downwards, an iridescent splotch of deep blue against the night sky.
Rather disliking the thought of resting in an open field (a shimmering mass of sapphire-blue scales wasn't exactly the most inconspicuous of things), Gwenaeste angled himself towards the darkened forest running parallel to a worn human-path. Wingtips brushed the treetops as the dragon slowed, curving easily around to land on the road in a thin cloud of dust and dead leaves.
Folding weary wings against his spine, Gwen stretched languidly in the moonlight to loosen limbs stiff from disuse during the flight. With a swish of his tail over the dirt of the road to erase any indication of his presence, Gwen made his way into the forest. He was careful to duck beneath branches and carefully place his feet amongst the foliage to make the trail less obvious.
Sufficiently far into the trees the dragon sidled up against a particularly strong looking specimen, grating the scales along his side against the bark. A relieved purr left his throat as the itchy dead ones fell away, tinkling musically as they collide don the ground.
It wasn't until he lowered his tapered snout to nose the scales under some dead leaves that the smell caught his attention. The fans on eitehr side of his head lowered in caution to protect his ears, moving towards the source. The large blue head pushed through some low-lying branches to peer at the sleeping young man.
So much for that renowned dragon caution.
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Post by Hawk on Aug 29, 2008 1:29:30 GMT -6
As he slept, Cyanea dreamt of his parents. It was of the first time he had been allowed to spread his wings, something that he had been able to do only a handful of times. Learning how to had been a present to Cy for one of his birthdays, and by far the best gift he had ever received. He remembered the knowing smile his father sent him as scales of dark onyx sprouted from his quickly-enlarging, morphing body. Cy looked on in awe as the giant black beast reared up, stretching his oft-ignored wings, before settling back down and mind-speaking to him to try it for himself as his mother moved forward, gold feathers beginning to appear in her hair as she called them to her.
As the dream reached his own attempt, it faded, moving to flickers of his father’s voice, his distinctive aura. It was a reminder of home, of comfort and acceptance and love. It had been much too long since he’d seen his parents…
The thought was enough to rouse him from his light doze, and he knew he hadn’t slept near enough. Content that it had at least been a pleasant couple hours of rest, he made to stretch, only to freeze.
Though awake, the aura was still there. And it wasn’t that of his father, but it was obvious why he had mistaken the two. It was…
‘Dragon,’ he affirmed, bolting away from the mysterious presence at an inhuman speed. However, he realized too late that he had left his cloak, and along with it his few worldly possessions, behind in his haste. Knowing it was an unwise choice, but unwilling to lose any more to dragons than he already had, he spun in place, getting his first look at the draconian stranger.
Taking in the stranger’s size and healthy color, Cy knew that if it came to a battle, he would be lost before it even began. He refused to let that thought overwhelm him, lip curling as a low hiss escaped him. “Must your kind never leave me in peace?” he growled, fire-bright eyes blazing as additional feathers sprouted of their own accord from his hair.
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Post by ElliBleu on Aug 29, 2008 11:09:40 GMT -6
Well. That was rude. Gwenaeste's scaled bristled slightly and he snorted, shaking his head in confusion. It wasn't quite the reaction he'd been expecting. Letting the fins flatten again against his neck and his scales lie normally once again, Gwen sat back on his haunches and wrapped his tail around his feet to show he meant neither to flee or pursue. "Not a fan of strangers, I take it. I know not what dragonkind has done to so stain your opinion, but I can assure you I mean no harm and offer my own small apologies on behalf of my kin."
He kept his head aloft as he stared down at the young man, making sure the soft spot where jaw met neck would remain out of reach of any weaponry. The dragon's keen eyes immediately noticed the feathers beginning to ruffle through the other's hair, managing to keep his eye color from showing his interest and surprise.
"You can stop your bristling, I've no intention of eating you and fire would hardly be a sensible idea in a wood."
Clearly he wasn't human, but Gwen couldn't yet hazard a guess as to what exactly he had stumbled across. He let one wing slip open a bit, hooking the clawed 'thumb' around a branch and pushing it away to give him a clearer view of his present company. Another experimental sniff told nothing more than the first had, either. It smelled only of pine needles and sap.
Most dragons would have been on their way at the first sign of unexpected company. Curiosity was one of his faults, Gwen assumed, still quite intent to investigate this stranger. "It's not often hominids travel alone. It's rather dangerous, who knows what you may run into." Immobile dragon faces didn't permit much emotion, but Gwen couldn't help the slight curl at the softer corners of his mouth, much amused with the dragon-flavored humor.
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Post by Hawk on Aug 30, 2008 19:57:28 GMT -6
Unamused and thrown off a bit by such polite treatment, Cyanea covered his surprise with annoyance, still, as the dragon had said, bristling. “You can stop patronizing me, if you please,” he growled, wondering why the sapphire stranger felt a need for such a charade, “Just as I could sense your presence, you should be able to sense that I am no simple humanoid.”
Cy couldn’t believe he had been so naïve. He’d thought he had mastered the art of sensing incoming danger, even while sleeping. What good were exceptional senses if you didn’t have them honed to the point where you could protect yourself?
Feathers ruffling in frustration, he continued, “And forgive me if I place no trust in your word. My family has had more than enough troubles with dragons to shake my faith in them, and a few kind words are not nearly enough to make up for years upon years of experience.” As he spoke he glanced around, looking for somewhere close that would give him space to safely transform. Unfortunately he had doomed himself perfectly, as the nearest open space was the road, and it was much too far to make if the blue one decided to pursue.
Noticing out of the corner of his keen eye that the dragon seemed to be scenting the air, Cy paused, focus returning to the stranger. Any avian or dragon would scent for food, water, possibly the weather. But doing that now, while faced with a hostile party, most certainly wasn’t the time. But what other reason would he have? ‘…Is he trying to scent me?’ he wondered, face reflecting none of his questions.
“….If you mean me no harm, what business do you have that brought you near me? After all, I was taught that subtlety was one of the key virtues of the seemingly ageless.”
If this dragon for some reason lacked or had lost his ability to sense the magical energies of others, Cy could possibly pass himself off as a griffin for at least long enough to obtain his cloak and escape. As far as he knew, the two kinds had a strictly cordial relationship, and though it had damned him so far, it could serve as the method of obtaining his freedom and safety this one singular time.
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Post by ElliBleu on Aug 31, 2008 0:43:49 GMT -6
Gwen liked to think he was patient. When you had as much time as a dragon, how could one not be? But the curiosity before him was starting to grate on his nerves and the fan-like fins behind his ears twitched in slight irritation. It grew old hearing of the grievances towards his kind, especially knowing he himself had little to apologize for.
The dragon rather disliked being disliked. And such blatant and blunt scorn made his proud head lower a bit, fixing the man with a long stare. There was something foreignly familiar about him, that almost metallic tang of drakine hanging about him. Gwenaeste wouldn't let himself look any more into the matter. It wasn't his to nose about in.
He looked around, probably for an escape route and hoping the subtle search would go unnoticed by the dragon. With another small huff Gwen shifted, snaking his tail out to slip under a corner of the cloak lying between them. He lifted it, the cloth easily finding purchase on the edges of his scales, and offered it out to it's owner.
"If you're so eager to be on your way I won't stop you, though it's I should be leaving for having interrupted your rest. In answer to your question, I sought you out to satisfy my own curiosity. If I'd known it would cause so much upset I'd have politely kept my distance."
A flick of his tail sent the cloak bobbing, again inviting the man to take it in what Gwen hoped was a non-threatening gesture. "And at risk of 'patronizing' once more," he muttered, biting back a yawn, "I apologize for causing such upset, sera."
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Post by Hawk on Sept 1, 2008 16:37:43 GMT -6
Becoming defensive at the dragon’s words, Cy replied rather perturbedly, “In regards to my upset, I would think your fighting form alone would be enough to explain my reaction.”
As he tried to deem whether or not making a move for his cloak was worth it, he continued in a manner of one reciting a lesson learned long ago, “After all, one does not need, nor generally want, claws to familiarize themselves with one they have yet to meet before. Nor is it proper etiquette to refuse to match the form of your companion if seemingly human, for safety of both your secret and both parties.”
Deciding that the ends justified the means, he took the few steps to seize his cloak. He was unable to resist sending an inquisitive look at the dragon standing in front of him as he went, deeply engrained manners forcing him to speak. “…And I accept your apology, Winged One, and deliver one of my own in return.”
Resolving to stay alert, he shifted back to put a safe distance between himself and the curiosity, letting his cloak rest at his side to allow for an attempt at change if it was needed. Worldly possessions now in hand, his instincts were screaming for him to escape, but there was something……odd about this member of dragonkind that made him pause. Or a number of things, for that matter
He could sense no auras, for one. For another, Cy had been told as a child that scales were generally a metallic shade, and the flamboyant blue of this dragon matched no metal he had ever seen. And, while he knew male dragons were generally protectors and much kinder than their female counterparts, the familiarity of this one bordered on disconcerting.
Though he couldn’t say quite what made him speak, be it curiosity, confusion, lack of companionship, or something else entirely, Cy found himself adding in a more level tone, “And, were one to be interested in a conversation, general manners dictate that they would generally also give a name by which the other would refer to them. …Unless your name happens to conveniently be Dragon.”
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Post by ElliBleu on Sept 4, 2008 10:32:10 GMT -6
Gwen snorted again, having some difficulty following this man's whirlwind of emotions and words.
Fighting form? Since when did one's true body mean war?
And claws seemed a wise idea when treading into uncertain company and territory.
Then there was forgiveness and apology in turn, making the scaled head tilt in increasing confusion as the man peered closely at him...
... And then the hostility thawed, attention turned to conversation and manners and introductions.
Opening his mouth to give his name, the dragon paused.
What was it he'd said about etiquette?
The sapphire wing released the branch, sending it bobbing in a flurry of leaves. Though weary from travel, Gwen let himself splurge into those reserves, feeling the increasingly familiar and less painful transformation into his hominid form. The shower of ethereal scales ceased, leaving him standing as a tall man with an absurd shock of raven hair cascading down his back.
Bowing his head politely, he started again. "Dragon I've been called, but Gwenaeste is my given name, seventh of the line of AuMer and Zeharra. Again, I mean no ill and apologize for the discontent my other form caused."
Satisfied, he straightened and gave the stranger a grin. N matter the oddity, company was company. And Gwen did love curious people. "And you, my lord? Might I ask your name?"
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Post by Hawk on Sept 4, 2008 23:18:58 GMT -6
Were he not so hesitant to trust his new company, he would have laughed at his continued oddness. As it was, he couldn’t hold back an amused, albeit somewhat bitter scoff. “’Lord’? Surely you must be kidding…”
Reassured by their now more equal stature, Cy stepped closer to the dragon once again, examining his human appearance. Long black hair, a fair bit taller than him, much paler in skin… Prettier than most, but nonetheless passable as normal. Sighing, he threw his cloak back around his shoulders, pulling up his hood to cover up the feathers that refused to free themselves from his hair no matter how hard he tried.
“I am known as Cyanea, son of the avian Adrasteia. Well, if not difficultly, met, Gwenaeste.” He left off the other half of his parentage, banking on the failure of the dragon’s senses to keep his heritage a secret. Safety demanded it. That, and trust was not something earned through a few kind words. And trust, something Gwenaeste didn’t have from him, was required for truth at times.
“Now, forgive my bluntness, but did you have some mission in mind when you approached me?” Examining Gwenaeste with a more neutral eye as he asked, it immediately jumped out to him how tired he appeared. It was a look developed from too much travel, too much energy used with not enough breaks taken to regain it.
Cyanea was embarrassed to have missed this. What sort of creature would pick a fight when in such a worn-out state? Shaking a bit of the frigid formality from his voice and posture, he continued, “…Are you lost, possibly? I’m quite familiar with the area, and could in the least point you in the direction of your goal, if needed.”
It would be nice to be an aid to a winged one instead of a hindrance, after all. And extending kindness to one that was half of his blood’s kin wouldn’t kill him. Hopefully.
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Post by ElliBleu on Sept 8, 2008 10:12:54 GMT -6
He didn't comment on the rejection of the offered title, commonly addressing those he passed as such anyways. Lord or Lady seemed a more genteel, deferential greeting than determining more suitable, often less ideal titles. He stepped a bit closer, and Gwen made certain he stood perfectly still to let the stranger glance him over. Then, sighing, he slid into his cloak and pulled up the hood.
The dragon couldn't decide if it was simply habit, or desire to remain as hidden as possible.
Cyanea, he introduced himself as, of avian heritage. Gwenaeste knew little outside dragon culture, and felt it was rather not important enough to ask if his blood was alce, harpy, griffin, phoenix... It didn't matter, he'd had no past interaction with anything of the feathered disposition so wouldn't know how to bend his manners regardless.
Bowing slightly in acknowledgment of the greeting, Gwen couldn't help the amused blue swirling his gaze and the small smile. It had been an unnecessarily complicated meeting.
In response to the questions Gwen shook his head, automatically lifting a hand to move the resulting cascade of hair off his face. "No. I merely caught a scent and lost to curiosity. I didn't know what I would find, and had no intention of disrupting."
Seeing Cyanea's marginally more relaxed posture, Gwen let himself shift his weight to one hip and let the proud line of his shoulders soften. "As for my traveling, it's fairly difficult to get lost when one has no destination in mind.... Though," he paused, head tilting slightly as he met the avian's eyes. "I would very much appreciate being pointed towards some fresh water."
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Post by Hawk on Sept 12, 2008 14:54:16 GMT -6
Cyanea was surprised for a minute to meet eyes as odd as his own. Laced with various shades of ebbing and receding blue, they seemed to be a perfect representation of the very water he was requesting. He swore that they had been a different shade minutes ago, but the way that they now perfectly contrasted the orange fire burning in his eyes served as a small amusement.
This dragon truly was unique. Gwenaeste had bowed his head twice to Cyanea already, an honor that was generally reserved for companions of considerably higher standing. And his smile lacked any weight to it, genuine to be sure. Cy had heard stories of dragons from other regions of the world, but always banished them as myths. Perhaps…. It seemed possible they carried some weight after all.
Humming quietly in thought at his request, he spoke after a minute of consideration. “I know of a pond nearby, one fairly secluded and safe.”
As he thought through his way there, however, he realized many of the landmarks he used to find it wouldn’t stand out to another pair of eyes. “Forgive me, as my directions would most likely find you utterly lost. I could point out its direction, if you’d rather hazard an attempt at finding it from the air.”
Realizing the dragon would question his aversion to flight, he tacked on, “And I apologize for being unable to lead you aerially. My wings are not as they are supposed to be, making flight rather difficult.” Not a lie, perchance, but a twist of words that served to hide the truth.
He scanned the horizon, looking for the small telltale signs that his eyes could familiarly pick out. Being on the trail would help, he thought frustratedly, before finally spotting through one of the openings in the canopy the bent-topped tree that served as one of his markers. Pointing toward the trail and slightly off to the side, he said, “It should be no more than a minute or two in that direction by air.” Noticing the lightening sky, he added, “Careful to keep an eye out for peop…humans on the trail, however.”
‘I should be on my way as well.’ “If you have no further questions, this seems to be where we part, Gwenaeste.” Bowing to return the honor he’d received, Cy made a move to leave before pausing. His mother would be ashamed at his horrible manners. Only slightly more than he was himself at his lack of skill in dealing with his own kind. Especially one that was so oddly companionable.
Glancing over his shoulder, he added after a pause, “…I happen to be walking in that direction as well. If you are comfortable in your human form and would prefer company, I would be happy to provide it, provided we stick to the ground.”
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Post by ElliBleu on Sept 29, 2008 10:54:21 GMT -6
Gwen shook his head, readjusting to the feeling of long hair swaying across his back. "I'd rather avoid switching forms again so quickly just to find some water." Moments later he was politely and efficiently dismissed, turning to leave as Cyanea did the same. The pause too was mirrored, listening intently as the avian spoke.
The invitation was met with a moment of surprise, eyes flashing bright gold before swirling a pleased green. The dragon took a step closer, but maintained a respectable distance, dipping his chin in gratitude and smiling. "Trails better traveled with more than one set of footprints left behind. I'm rarely one to deny company, it's a rather rare commodity. If you're certain yo don't mind the intrusion I believe I will accept your offer."
The smile twitched a bit wider as Gwen kept his eyes on Cyanea. He was a curiosity. The dragon was rather certain a creature less inquisitive and patient than himself would have long ago left the odd company in a flurry of wing-tossed leaves. But intrigued he was by the rapid flip-flops in demeanor and sentences carefully phrased to ensure there would be little to question.
Tucking some hair behind an ear, his eyes finally settled back into a warmer shade of their natural brown. Around strangers Gwen usually kept his eye color in check, but it seemed that the blatantly open emotions were helping to win over the skittish male. It could have been the utter lack of anything stimulating in the previous traveling, but the dragon was rather amused.
"Then by all means, lead the way, sera."
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Post by Hawk on Oct 14, 2008 18:30:05 GMT -6
Surprised that Gwenaeste accepted his offer, and so quickly and cheerfully at that, he couldn't help but blink at him curiously. While the offer may have been polite, his general demeanor had been more than lacking since their meeting. Why would he continue to subject himself to such company?
Realizing he was being observed, Cy turned back around with an eyebrow raised in question, but was struck by the dragon's eyes. He was absolutely positive that they had been blue minutes before. How could they suddenly be brown instead?
He resolved to let it drop for the moment however as he caught the dragon's open smile, unable to help a small but wary grin of his own. "I believe I can sympathize with your feelings regarding a lack of company. And agree that companionship is a rare treasure indeed."
After a moment, he felt compelled to add in a quieter tone, "I honestly do apologize for my rather rude behavior. A needed habit it may serve to be at times, but not one that I am in any way proud of."
With that said, he began walking back toward the trail, ignoring the urge to not show his back to a stranger. A companion of the winged form was something he had almost never had, and he felt the first steps toward overcoming his fear of placing trust in others may as well start here.
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