They withdrew to one of the loftier loftrees, where the air was thin and cold
but fortunately unpopular with the smitten. The loftree branch was short and they huddled together, breath fluffing out in big plumes. Skaffwory alternated tightening and loosening her grip on the branch beneath her. The stony bark began to glow and heat beneath her touch.
"I knew you from last Adarngack-kea," he told her. "When you did the dance. Ever since then I have been in love with you."
Skaffwory huffed. "Is that so."
"Yes. You are beautiful and awesome."
"And what," Skaffwory said, "you want me to take care of you? Do you want me to chew your food for you while you —"
"I am not a chick!" he told her — not, she noted, with the usual whining, but firmly. "My name is Ckorassackea Cedrus."
Skaffwory straightened at that. "Are you really?"
"Yes."
"You have no accent."
He placed a hand into his mouth, hooked thumb and index finger until his knuckles shoved up against the interior of his beak. When he withdrew his hand again, there was a glimmering coil twisted around his talon.
He spoke something to her that she didn't understand. Then he set the slyph back on his tongue and swallowed, grimacing and coughing, throat flexing as the slyph twisted back against the cords of his voice.
His voice came out rough at first, and he rubbed his neck.
"That is how it is."
"It explains a lot," she admitted, and shifted away from him slightly, on the premise of stretching her wings. Cedrus eyed her.
"Do you fear me now?"
"No," Skaffwory said, "but I must re-evaluate."
"Re-evaluate what?" he said. "What is there to re-evaluate? You are amazing. You make the air glitter. I love you."
"I am old and I am going to rest," Skaffwory told him, and raised her head, sensing a gust; she opened her wings at the right moment, loosened the grip of her feet. The wind plucked her from the branch with a sparkle of dying flames, a thin trail of ash.
"I knew you from last Adarngack-kea," he told her. "When you did the dance. Ever since then I have been in love with you."
Skaffwory huffed. "Is that so."
"Yes. You are beautiful and awesome."
"And what," Skaffwory said, "you want me to take care of you? Do you want me to chew your food for you while you —"
"I am not a chick!" he told her — not, she noted, with the usual whining, but firmly. "My name is Ckorassackea Cedrus."
Skaffwory straightened at that. "Are you really?"
"Yes."
"You have no accent."
He placed a hand into his mouth, hooked thumb and index finger until his knuckles shoved up against the interior of his beak. When he withdrew his hand again, there was a glimmering coil twisted around his talon.
He spoke something to her that she didn't understand. Then he set the slyph back on his tongue and swallowed, grimacing and coughing, throat flexing as the slyph twisted back against the cords of his voice.
His voice came out rough at first, and he rubbed his neck.
"That is how it is."
"It explains a lot," she admitted, and shifted away from him slightly, on the premise of stretching her wings. Cedrus eyed her.
"Do you fear me now?"
"No," Skaffwory said, "but I must re-evaluate."
"Re-evaluate what?" he said. "What is there to re-evaluate? You are amazing. You make the air glitter. I love you."
"I am old and I am going to rest," Skaffwory told him, and raised her head, sensing a gust; she opened her wings at the right moment, loosened the grip of her feet. The wind plucked her from the branch with a sparkle of dying flames, a thin trail of ash.
Labels: skaffwory
1 Comments:
I always like how Cedrus continues to insist, "I love you" to such an old bird (literally!) as Skaffwory. I think there's something endearing about characters who say things like that without any of the complex baggage others like to include with it -- "I love you but I'm not sure if you love me back," or "I love you and I will die if you don't love me back." Cedrus reminds me of Dug from Up in that respect -- he says what he means in pitiful earnest.
And as I said before: the mouth-coil was a really neat idea :D
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