His grin didn’t disappear – just as resolute as his determined, steadfast little entity. But when his father urged a more natural adaptation, the youth tilted his head, trying to remember what it meant to relax into these modes. That he didn’t have to stretch and draw and quarter away portions of himself just to get the magic to refine or stay or even listen to him; so he steadied, took a few breaths. Releasing the tension through his brows, then his eyes, he watched as Deimos easily conducted the incantations along his palm, bending and swaying the elements with an obvious ease. And while Erebos could argue that his father had many more years of experience, he was willing to listen, rather than quibble, quarrel, and argue the sentiments.
Only when he eased back, settling right into the snow, and rationalize the potential, did the magic come back to him. It relished and soared without the insistent tug and wheedling, and he laughed at the notion as the icy little crystals came spiraling around again, and he made them twist and turn in nature’s folly, basking in the glow of it. “That’s so cool.” Then he ordered the snow to rampage their way into the Sword’s incantations, watching as they billowed around it. "How long do you think I can use it?" He'd know, just by the flex and pervading conjectures, that it wouldn't be for eternity.
Only when he eased back, settling right into the snow, and rationalize the potential, did the magic come back to him. It relished and soared without the insistent tug and wheedling, and he laughed at the notion as the icy little crystals came spiraling around again, and he made them twist and turn in nature’s folly, basking in the glow of it. “That’s so cool.” Then he ordered the snow to rampage their way into the Sword’s incantations, watching as they billowed around it. "How long do you think I can use it?" He'd know, just by the flex and pervading conjectures, that it wouldn't be for eternity.
erebos
and then we dream so much
