Side Walk Chalk
athenafire
An odd fellow. His frame type was a flier, but an old design, from long before the war. Spindly, with eight wings folded over a ring on his back, keeping it safe from harm. He bore no insignia, as, in his time, there was no divide. Each feature carved with the specific purpose of looking as least threatening as possible. The old mech looked to Hunter, then to Prowl, waiting for approval to interact with his sparkling, careful to tiptoe around the situation.
For his words, he thought carefully. Translating from his vernacular, to one both of them would understand. “I would love to, little one.” the mech squat down, taking to knee. “What are you drawing?” he observed the flowers with a smile.
“A field” answered Hunter happily. He brought himself up on one knee, his arms and head still as far down as they could go, he didn’t want to disturb his concentration on getting his picture right. “There are stories Momo and Owl tell me about Praxis and that they have these fields of crystal flowers!” Hunter continued with his doodles and he glanced up to the adult that wanted to join him. “What are you going to draw?”












