In This Broken Kingdom

Not alone; not for long. Something the color of seafoam moves on the rocks above. Or something the color of gulls, maybe. Seiji's dark eyes turn to drink it in with interest. The elegant spring of its step. The slow progress down to the pools. It approaches him, he suspects. Reflected in the liquid darkness of his eyes is the creature in miniature, the friendly prick of its ears. Seiji feels no fear. His eyes lift to the pronged horns rising above the creature’s brow. In silence (as ever) Seiji counts them, one, two, three… Like a deer, he thinks, charmed. But then - a quick glance at the nearest thicket of trees - he wonders. Like branches? Naked curiosity blooms in his eyes and his head tilts, his game momentarily forgotten. A mangrove spirit? A god of this place? Seiji moves to meet its approach, though neither of them speaks. He wonders if it can. In place of words, his own swan’s neck bends down, down in a graceful nod, though his knee never follows the motion through. When he lifts his head once more, he is smiling. Smiling, in the brilliant black of his eyes. The expression softens his otherwise predatory features. Like light shining from the gentle soul within. He finds he can’t articulate what he wishes to say. He nods again, more shallowly, and gestures with his nose toward the nearest trees. And back to the stranger, above the stranger, indicating the intricately tined horns. And a slight tilt of the head. His tail flicks once behind him, perhaps an expression of embarrassment. You understand? He thinks. But he doesn’t know. Now something else moves - something not the sea. Not a bird, either - not quite. Seiji’s long neck retracts; his body recoils, preparing in an instant to flee. But no need. The newest thing is small. Just a child. A child, alone…. Seiji peers across the pools once more, searching for a mother and finding none. As if there are no mothers here. As if the monsters drop their young like eggs and leave them to the world. His heart aches at the thought. Unless… the two are related, somehow? Seiji blinks at the horned man again, inquiring. He thinks, no. Impossible. They’re far too different in appearance, the child with feathers and the man without. The fear in the child’s eyes…. Seiji blinks at the boy again, concerned. He moves a little forward. Hesitates. His muzzle outstretched, ears pricked. I am friendly, his posture says. I won’t hurt you. Though his eyes stray toward the feathered edge of a wing.

img by Tildae @ flickr