everything I let go
At Iskra’s demonstration, the boy laughed, rather loudly, at the display. “Oh okay! That’s perfect then!” His glance back towards the dog, naughty and nefarious, spoke volumes of his sudden approval.
Finding a few more sticks to qualify for the highly lauded and impending snowmen, his eyes widened at the thought of scary or angry pedestals, coming to life on wings of imagination and debauchery. “Oooooh,” he tapped his chin, as if he’d never thought about these possibilities before – including the pine needle strips, bending down to pick up a few from nearby, in case others felt inclined to do the same. “Sometimes I like to make them look like people around here too,” he admitted, though one could probably never be able to presume or identify the impersonation attempts.
Not threatened by Iskra’s own chuckles, he inclined his head instead, little mouth rounding into another ‘o’ on the potential of adults still using the training tools. He supposed he’d seen his dad and many soldiers do the same, but it had often been in the semblance of learning and not mauling one another. Which, given a modicum of thought, was probably around the same lines. “Are you still learning about things then? I feel like that never stops. It’s like always being at school.” If there was a huff or puff about that, he didn’t go into more detail, curiosity already inclined towards the naming of said greataxes. “Ampere,” he repeated. “What’s it mean?”
Deciding Iskra was quite all right for an adult, he nodded, listening but not taking in the information readily – too distracted by the appearance and idea of acorns. “Eyes and buttons!” he declared, immediately going to snatch them up while Orsino protested at being swung around. “I think we should go to the greenhouse for carrots. For the noses.”
Finding a few more sticks to qualify for the highly lauded and impending snowmen, his eyes widened at the thought of scary or angry pedestals, coming to life on wings of imagination and debauchery. “Oooooh,” he tapped his chin, as if he’d never thought about these possibilities before – including the pine needle strips, bending down to pick up a few from nearby, in case others felt inclined to do the same. “Sometimes I like to make them look like people around here too,” he admitted, though one could probably never be able to presume or identify the impersonation attempts.
Not threatened by Iskra’s own chuckles, he inclined his head instead, little mouth rounding into another ‘o’ on the potential of adults still using the training tools. He supposed he’d seen his dad and many soldiers do the same, but it had often been in the semblance of learning and not mauling one another. Which, given a modicum of thought, was probably around the same lines. “Are you still learning about things then? I feel like that never stops. It’s like always being at school.” If there was a huff or puff about that, he didn’t go into more detail, curiosity already inclined towards the naming of said greataxes. “Ampere,” he repeated. “What’s it mean?”
Deciding Iskra was quite all right for an adult, he nodded, listening but not taking in the information readily – too distracted by the appearance and idea of acorns. “Eyes and buttons!” he declared, immediately going to snatch them up while Orsino protested at being swung around. “I think we should go to the greenhouse for carrots. For the noses.”
Erebos
has claw marks on it
