#velvetrabbitheart

Continued from here.

Panne turns to face the man and juts her chin in defiance. Out of habit she keeps her legs apart and her hands balled into fists.

“Out.”

She realizes her answer might be too curt, and she generally doesn’t care for manners. But a paranoid voice in her head tells her she is in his castle, surrounded by his men and if he finds her unpleasant, he can just shout for her to be placed in some dark dungeon. Though this one shows no sign of hostility, she could never be sure with humans. She offers him a quirk of her lips; half a smile, half a snarl.

“Worry not, man-spawn. I mean no ill-will. Castle walls do not suit me, is all.”

With the silky curtains drawn closed, the moon was denied the liberty to brighten the hallways with its natural light, leaving the castle shrouded in an inky darkness. Hearing Panne’s apprehension caused Eliwood’s lips to shift into a frown, his expression contorted with concern. Through the warm, dim light of the candle in his grasp, the lord was barely able to recognize the outline of the woman’s face. Shadows obscured her features, only serving to magnify the wariness painted in the tautness of her lips and narrowed eyes. A human’s eyesight in darkness was poor, but Panne’s defensive stance did not escape his notice. He supposed he too, would be uncomfortable, had the situation been reversed. An unfamiliar place, surrounded by unfamiliar people... Eliwood mused his expression transitioning to subtle empathy.

“I see,” Eliwood replies calmly, his free hand reaching for the edge of his cloak, swathing it around him, “you are more than welcome to leave as you please, of course. I was...merely concerned. I admit, I do not know of your culture, Panne. As a result, I am uncertain as to which comforts would provide you the best hospitality.” There was a sincerity to his voice and had he the free hand, Eliwood would have raised it to his chin thoughtfully.

The had never feared what was different. Humans, dragons, all-beings...they were the same: people. Individuals with families, friends, aspirations and values. But he would be a fool if he did not recognize that many humans did not feel the same. Even now in Lycia, had the other marquesses learned of Panne’s presence, they would certainly be in an uproar of mistrust. Even Hector, though he was certain he would reluctantly trust his judgement.

@velvetrabbitheart

Cichol’s great, expansive wings stretched across the cloudless sky, collecting the warmth of the sun’s brilliant rays as he glided towards his destination with ease. The skies had always been his secondary home. Perhaps it was this sense of natural belonging that prevented him from experiencing the fear of falling; colliding with the earth and meeting his end. With a powerful flap of his wings, the dragon rose to an even higher elevation before he swooped downward, scanning the land for a familiar settlement. His mother had selected him to participate in the pamba mesa, which was being hosted by none other than the Taguel clan this year. He was uncertain of the project they would request assistance with prior to the sharing of a meal, but he felt a sense of pride in being selected to represent the Nabateans.

Several hundred feet away from the burrow, Cichol slowly came to a landing. As he gingerly lowered himself to the earth, his the power of his wings blew against the trees and flora like a powerful breeze. When his weight finally landed upon the earth, it trembled beneath him, and dust scattered into the air, obscuring the dragon’s form. Cichol huffed, sending the raised soil and dust away from his body. It was as if the earth itself was responding to Cichol’s power, and the cracks that had marred its service with his landing faded.

A glow enveloped him as he shifted to a human form, the sound of crackling echoing among the trees as bones shifted and rearranged during the transformation. When the light faded, where a great dragon stood a human. His forest green hair was long, tucked neatly into a hair tie. A short, well-trimmed beard shaped his face, and striking green eyes sought the crowd of shifters beginning to gather.

He approached the group, a brown paper package carefully wrapped with twine in his hands.

From European Countries meme.

The Netherlands 🇳🇱 : When did you last see your mum?

Seated at a marble table generously laid with Pheraen treats and tea beneath an eloquent veranda positioned at the perimeter of Castle Pherae’s voluminous flower garden, Eliwood immediately beamed at the mention of his mother. He was particularly fond of small talk, as he felt it allowed to him to better connect to others far different from himself. Gingerly, he returned his tea cup to his saucer, mindful that his full attention was to the his inquirer before speaking.

“My mother? Oh, just this afternoon,” The ginger-haired lord replied with a smile, his expression sunny at the mere mention of his deeply-respected mother, “it has become quite the habit for us to always share lunch together. I am an only child and though I am well adjusted to my position as marquess, she frets for my sake quite often.” He paused, folding his hands together neatly in his lap, just out of sight.

“I must admit, I appreciate her tender care. A mother’s love is…healing. It brings great comfort, no matter the stress that ails you.”

Albania 🇦🇱 : Can you swim well?

Eliwood pauses to take a soundless sip of his tea, his manners clearly practiced from a young age. Yet, his movements do not seem forced or unnatural. Instead, they rather suit him, as if his lithe form was incapable of any form of clumsiness. When he returns his tea down, he chuckles sheepishly, raising a hand to his face in embarrassment.