Bastien had been… Off, as far as Azrael is concerned. They’ve mostly kept to themselves, though occasionally enduring the never ending praise and comfort that their father gives them through random fits throughout the night. But on this day, they’re upstairs, tinkering with a new toy that they heard a man named Deimos had made them – one where they could take it apart and put it back together, fidgeting with the pieces until a new creation was formed.
This is what they’re doing now, as Osozo walks in, carefully attaching a leg of a luxere onto the body of the dragon, before their head lifts to spot the Other one they had seen from the big family meeting. For a moment, they simply stare, waiting until Osozo has dropped down to their level, quiet and watchful with wide brown eyes ringed in sapphire. “Hi.” Comes their soft voice, gentle and easy, an acceptance.
“I’m Azrael.” They say, a small childish and sheepish smile crossing their lips as they focus their hands on fidgeting with their dragon-luxere combination.
This is what they’re doing now, as Osozo walks in, carefully attaching a leg of a luxere onto the body of the dragon, before their head lifts to spot the Other one they had seen from the big family meeting. For a moment, they simply stare, waiting until Osozo has dropped down to their level, quiet and watchful with wide brown eyes ringed in sapphire. “Hi.” Comes their soft voice, gentle and easy, an acceptance.
“I’m Azrael.” They say, a small childish and sheepish smile crossing their lips as they focus their hands on fidgeting with their dragon-luxere combination.
progress, not perfection
Azrael
