Put your ipod on Shuffle and send me the song that comes up on it. I’ll listen to it then write a drabble of our characters based off it.
Gerome never really considered himself a dreamer; quite the opposite since all he seemed to see at night were nightmares, but occasionally he would get tiny flickers of hopes, wishes.
Most involved his parents in some indirect way, pertaining to the horrible past magnified by at least ten.
Sitting on the hillside again, Minerva feasting happily on a stray deer, he let his thoughts wander to the hopes and wishes side of his mind, thinking about tiny memories he had when his parents had really acted like parents instead of soldiers.
He had mentioned as much to his mother once before, possibly inadvertently, but he never had brought it up again.
That was probably for the better.
He leaned back, adjusting his mask slightly as he rested his head on his arms, closing his eyes. The night chill had set in slightly (he was never one to go to bed early) but it wasn’t bothering him at all.
Only when he felt something light touch his jaw did he open his eyes, sitting up.
There were fireflies floating around him and Minerva as the latter crooned slightly, eyes following the light eminated from the bugs.
The wyvern rider never really paid attention to such things of nature, but for tonight he was comfortable with letting his mind settle down.
“Lightning bugs are really pretty, aren’t they Gerome? Some say it is the souls of children come to make people happy.”
He closed his eyes again, faintest of smiles touching his lips.
His child self must have been visiting him again. He silently thanked his mother.
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