Azrael
They had been gradually growing, though it wasn’t until a few nights before Leafchange when the bigger growth spurts had come. Luckily, it was quiet, they didn’t feel pain or the frustrated lingering adjustments needed to get used to it. Really, the most that happened was getting used to the length of their limbs, of their sudden height in comparison to how they had been when the Voice had given them to their father and mother.
So it’s of no surprise they have to make do with some of Rexanna’s clothes. Azreal doesn’t mind, feeling that added bit of closeness to their mother that they hadn’t quite understood before their mind had matured. It hasn’t fully, yet, but the process has begun, voice far less childish, and a bit more free reign to go and explore.
They’re excited when Bastien takes them to the ruins, honeyed eyes tipped in sapphire scanning the area of what seemed like such destruction. But there was beauty within it, if one knew where to look.
They take Bastien’s hand, stepping over the pillar with a hop, before shifting by their attention back to their father. “I think… There’s opportunity here.” They say, surprisingly well spoken with the books they’d read and stories Bastien had told them. “Could it be remade? Or should it be left alone?” They ask, looking back around, letting go of their fathers hand as their calculating mind takes them deeper, fingers running along the edge of a broken wall covered with vines.
So it’s of no surprise they have to make do with some of Rexanna’s clothes. Azreal doesn’t mind, feeling that added bit of closeness to their mother that they hadn’t quite understood before their mind had matured. It hasn’t fully, yet, but the process has begun, voice far less childish, and a bit more free reign to go and explore.
They’re excited when Bastien takes them to the ruins, honeyed eyes tipped in sapphire scanning the area of what seemed like such destruction. But there was beauty within it, if one knew where to look.
They take Bastien’s hand, stepping over the pillar with a hop, before shifting by their attention back to their father. “I think… There’s opportunity here.” They say, surprisingly well spoken with the books they’d read and stories Bastien had told them. “Could it be remade? Or should it be left alone?” They ask, looking back around, letting go of their fathers hand as their calculating mind takes them deeper, fingers running along the edge of a broken wall covered with vines.
mind over matter
