creatures lurk below the deck

Iskra & Zèklè I'm fired up and tired of the way that things have been Don't you tell me what you think that I can be I'm the one at the sail, I'm the master of my sea By the grace of the fire and the flames You're the face of the future, the blood in my veins Iskra blinked hard against the piercing, unnatural green light that slithered around them. He didn't notice the way it moved across him at first, didn't recognize the things it morphed or added. He knew that there was something though, because he felt it gnawing at his wings, and hastily he tucked them to his sides. Then it was throbbing against Ampere's his trinket of gods blood, humming so loudly, so horribly, that even as Iskra buried his ears in his mane he couldn't shake the dreadful sound. He backed away, but it ceased, and abruptly Mauna's touch replaced the terrible stain of the rift. Iskra jumped a bit, startled by the child, but recognized his nephew with a smile and a quiver over his muscles. The young boy was his family now, and he'd embrace him, though it was hard to lend his heart fully to the boy when it was shredded into so many bits and pieces in the wake of all that he (they) had lost. At Zekle's approach, Iskra relaxed further, exhaling audible relief with a shuddering snort. As Zekle wrapped them up, Iskra shifted his body, shouldering new weight with all of Ampere's equipment. A brief, passing through sped past his mind - that he ought to share with Zekle, because he'd lost her too, she was his mother too. As his brother began blowing raspberries at Mauna however, Iskra decided not to bring it up, allowing a moment of selfishness. Zekle had grown enough, had loved others, but Iskra had only known her. Although she was not the things she had carried, Iskra found remnants of everything he cherished within them. The Warhammer he had found on his own and was clumsily uncertain of what to do with it just yet, but the shield - a symbol of protection and engraved with the sun, it was reminiscent of their sandy homeland. Whether it had been named before or not Iskra gently whispered a new calling to it, "Dragons' Sun," before settling it between his wings. Then the leather strap that he slung about his neck, he knew to have once belonged to his father. Ampere had worn it, less out of necessity or use, than out of love and memory, and so Iskra bore it in the same way, and dubbed it in his sire's likeness, "Gaucho." for it was both strong and durable, smoothed for now, but capable of creating prongs to thwart off harm. Lastly, a dagger. Iskra looked down at it with a quietness, knowing it had been with his mother the longest, something she had been gifted by Helovia along with others for her allies in a war waged against the strong for the sake of the weak. It was only capable of inflicting pain, and though it was to be used aga8inst your enemies, it could easily be turned against its wielder if handled improperly or carelessly. It was too much like his damn not to earn the name "Ampere." Before putting it away however, Iskra ran his whiskers over the steel blade, remembering a time when he'd watched her with it. There was something magical about it - something she used to say. "The watching shift goes ever on," he breathed. The blade shimmered, and Iskra expected to see within it's metal a nearby land, as he knew its enchantment to be. Yet the metal quivered for a different reason, rising of its own volition, then reaching out with hungry teeth to stab at Iskra's still outstretched muzzle. Anuya had approached just then, and Iskra's head lifted as his ears flicked at her excitement. The blade whistled past his nose and glanced off his shoulder with an angry red line. Iskra yelped and leapt back, and the strange, albeit pretty mare, quieted and softened. Iskra couldn't focus though, because Ampere had turned back and was aiming for his side, distinctly accurate and deadly. The irony of it all was lost on the boy as he scrambled to dodge it, earning another bloody streak on his haunches. Zekle was already standing before him, prepared to shield them from this stranger, the events all unfurling in rapid succession. "Stop!" Iskra cried out, "The watching shift stops!" he even tried as he danced around his blade. He might have drawn out his shield if he were more practiced with battle or all of his accessories, but as it was he remained harassed by his blade. "Help, Ampere is attacking me!" he wailed frantically. Behind him Squishy loudly greeted them all with "FUCKING BITCH!"

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@Anuya

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