Hadama snorted some seawater from his nose, but he kept his laughter at Kaiden's praise from the Bond. Thank you, he said instead, inclining his head regally. And then he turned his full attention from the sky down to his friend, listening with solemn courtesy as the mershark strung together their first poem.
It is a very good-- he began, and then broke off as static sizzled through the air and water. Instantly the hippocampus was on alert, tension rippling through his muscles and lifting the edges of his scales as he sought the source of otherworldly fizz.
He did, indeed, have a desire to meet Vox. In person, so to speak. But the Family's messenger was nothing more than a voice on the wind. A dissonant echo in the tide. The strange being's compliments fell on finned ears that pressed flat to Hadama's head, though he brought them up with an act of will. Vox-- he began, his mental voice the quiet thunder to the other man(?)'s static, but before he could continue the silence of the night returned, broken only by the constant shush and lap of water against the ice floes.
But the peace he had previously found in the night was shattered. Violated. And not even the majestic play of colors in the sky above could return Hadama's serenity. He shook himself hard and dove deep, as if to wash the static from his scales and fins. Through the bond there was a ripple of complex emotion: uneasiness, a touch of nausea, and fierce thoughtfulness. Come. Let us put distance between this place and ourselves.
It is a very good-- he began, and then broke off as static sizzled through the air and water. Instantly the hippocampus was on alert, tension rippling through his muscles and lifting the edges of his scales as he sought the source of otherworldly fizz.
He did, indeed, have a desire to meet Vox. In person, so to speak. But the Family's messenger was nothing more than a voice on the wind. A dissonant echo in the tide. The strange being's compliments fell on finned ears that pressed flat to Hadama's head, though he brought them up with an act of will. Vox-- he began, his mental voice the quiet thunder to the other man(?)'s static, but before he could continue the silence of the night returned, broken only by the constant shush and lap of water against the ice floes.
But the peace he had previously found in the night was shattered. Violated. And not even the majestic play of colors in the sky above could return Hadama's serenity. He shook himself hard and dove deep, as if to wash the static from his scales and fins. Through the bond there was a ripple of complex emotion: uneasiness, a touch of nausea, and fierce thoughtfulness. Come. Let us put distance between this place and ourselves.
