xiu
IT’S FUNNY, AND THEN IT’S NOT. Partaking in a torturous game wasn’t his intention, but the boy seemed restless, always moving, passing him by, running around, r e f u s i n g to understand. Refusing to give up to his new fate so many times the fox considered leaving with no return until the morning light rose from the east once again. If the boy was running even then, there wouldn’t be surprise to color his vacant expression, only eyes moving to see the stranger appear, following until they were no longer visible. Repeat.
Boring. So boring even the wind decided to stop passing by, no longer interested when no new development appeared to show in close time.
And then the boy stops, loud heartbeat no longer disrupted by crushing leaves under loud, scared steps. The boy stops && the vulpes has no choice but to move —what a curious change of dynamic—, evading the offending object threw at him with a raised brow, interest arising by such CHILDISH act of frustration. What’s more, the boy does not emit a single word and has not even when the humans surrounded him if Xiu recalls correctly. Mute? Maybe ; something within refuses to believe so, however.
Xiu could almost S W E A R this boy was not speaking by choice— - Almost. If the chance if given, he will make sure to know with security of confirmation the presumption behind such silence being IMPOSED by the creature of wild eyes full of disgruntlement staring back, showing a written demand that makes the ancient huli jing snort.
The answer to that is quite simple, actually. It’s almost pitiful it took the sea-being until exhaustion to finally settle into verbal ((( as much as it could be when just one was doing the physical task of talking ))) discussion ONLY to receive a fast, short- - -
- - ❛ No. ❜
the stranger seems entirely unimpressed, perched where he is, simply watching sora. even with the stone thrown his way, he doesn’t move. that frustrates sora all the more; how he’s so uncaring when the siren has ran circles, chest heaving, skin crawling as the trees seem to reach out to him. the stranger’s answer is simple, straight to the point and almost leaves no space for arguments and that grinds on sora’s nerve. no? what does he mean no? he pulls back the notebook with a heated look and scribbles once more like slender fingers couldn’t move fast enough to convey what he wants to. “ what you mean no? take me back! ” sora strides closer to the stranger as if cornering him would pressure him to change his mind, to listen to sora. the siren wants out, wants to leave this forest that the stranger has enchanted. there’s simply no other way to explain it; no other way besides magic, the supernatural, which is another cause for concern all on its own.
for one, it’s obvious the other isn’t a creature of the sea like himself. that leaves all the other creatures walking the earth; myths and legends he’s heard, warnings and caution branded in his mind. his mother spoke of the humans most of the time, expressed her distaste for them but she warned him of other supernaturals, others like himself, perhaps stronger, trickier. the humans, you know what they’ll do; they’ve done it for centuries, you’ll know. but the others, the others, you’ll never know. the siren has no way to know what he would pull out his sleeves, what he can do, if sora has the capability to break out of this spell if the other truly means to keep him here. ugh.