Aamu
He's meandering along, minding his own light-worshiping business like a moon-drunk moth. Azrael's just another flower in the meadow, except they yelp (flowers shouldn't do that), and Aamu definitely feels the shape of the young demigod bumping into his knees.
It's concerning. Confusing.
(Actually, fuck that and let's be honest for a moment. Aamu's still fresh out of a war, he's even fresher out of a genocide, and stumbling over something living he overlooked in the dark is terrifying, to put it bluntly. It also explains why, for a brief moment as he's bounced back, he's crouched, poised to strike, one hand raised, silver moonlight painting him in stark, grim contrast.)
But then he's just Aamu again, quickly straightening up and taking his raised hand to tangle it in the top of his moon-washed braid, all silver and blue and soft. "Didn't see you there, Az," he responds with a chuckle that's still a tad too nervous, hoping to avoid being called out on his violent instincts. The last thing he wants is for the obviously startled child to suspect Aamu would be capable of hurting them.
"I'm fine," he tries to assure the young demi, taking a few steps closer while glancing up at the sky again. All those pretty lights... "I like coming out to King's End." He forces his eyes down, to the sketchpad held in the teenager's hand. "Sorry for, err... nearly stepping on you. You were drawing?"
It's concerning. Confusing.
(Actually, fuck that and let's be honest for a moment. Aamu's still fresh out of a war, he's even fresher out of a genocide, and stumbling over something living he overlooked in the dark is terrifying, to put it bluntly. It also explains why, for a brief moment as he's bounced back, he's crouched, poised to strike, one hand raised, silver moonlight painting him in stark, grim contrast.)
But then he's just Aamu again, quickly straightening up and taking his raised hand to tangle it in the top of his moon-washed braid, all silver and blue and soft. "Didn't see you there, Az," he responds with a chuckle that's still a tad too nervous, hoping to avoid being called out on his violent instincts. The last thing he wants is for the obviously startled child to suspect Aamu would be capable of hurting them.
"I'm fine," he tries to assure the young demi, taking a few steps closer while glancing up at the sky again. All those pretty lights... "I like coming out to King's End." He forces his eyes down, to the sketchpad held in the teenager's hand. "Sorry for, err... nearly stepping on you. You were drawing?"
