Destyn blinked at the suddenly clandestine cat. Clandestine had his name in it and he didn’t mind as much with that word, for some reason. Maybe because “destiny” sounded like someone forcing a cutesy nickname that didn’t really work, whereas “clandestine” sounded like a tribe named after him, which was a far more appealing prospect.
His attention was drawn away from Kitty and his mental musings were dismissed summarily at the sight of Imogen’s staff. He didn’t really blame the staff for his almost drowning, nor Imogen who’d been in control of it… until she wasn’t. Still, he was assaulted with the salty sense memory of the experience on his tongue and in his nostrils. He shook it off and shook his head in dismissal of the apology, though he wasn’t altogether sure whether it was directed at him for his prior experience or at Kitty for how its glow killed his shadowy veil.
Walking uphill in sand was always harder than it looked, Destyn thought as he he trudged a few steps. In short order, he elected to spread his wings and cheat his way to the top of the dunes via aerial shortcut.
“Ah, well thank you for this, then.” His own senses weren’t specific enough to be practically helpful. He just knew something was off, without being able to point out what or from where it derived.
His less esoteric senses, at least, he put to use as a student of sylvan survival. He kept alert with all of his senses, as he led the way through the murky wood. His heart began to beat faster and faster the closer they drew to that fell tree. Was it once a seedling like the one he propagated back in Sivan’s Kalzasern garden? He hoped that baby tree would never fall to so grim a fate. The very notion made him shudder.
“Why do the gods allow such things to, you know, take place? If I were a god, I would use my powers to protect nature and, I guess, people if they, you know, deserve it.”
His attention was drawn away from Kitty and his mental musings were dismissed summarily at the sight of Imogen’s staff. He didn’t really blame the staff for his almost drowning, nor Imogen who’d been in control of it… until she wasn’t. Still, he was assaulted with the salty sense memory of the experience on his tongue and in his nostrils. He shook it off and shook his head in dismissal of the apology, though he wasn’t altogether sure whether it was directed at him for his prior experience or at Kitty for how its glow killed his shadowy veil.
Walking uphill in sand was always harder than it looked, Destyn thought as he he trudged a few steps. In short order, he elected to spread his wings and cheat his way to the top of the dunes via aerial shortcut.
“Ah, well thank you for this, then.” His own senses weren’t specific enough to be practically helpful. He just knew something was off, without being able to point out what or from where it derived.
His less esoteric senses, at least, he put to use as a student of sylvan survival. He kept alert with all of his senses, as he led the way through the murky wood. His heart began to beat faster and faster the closer they drew to that fell tree. Was it once a seedling like the one he propagated back in Sivan’s Kalzasern garden? He hoped that baby tree would never fall to so grim a fate. The very notion made him shudder.
“Why do the gods allow such things to, you know, take place? If I were a god, I would use my powers to protect nature and, I guess, people if they, you know, deserve it.”
