pucky-goodfellow
The grin that spread across Colden’s face was electric in its intensity. “Oh hello there, little Sun. I thank you for coming out to play with me.” He held up a hand, slowly releasing just enough of his glamour to let his own non-human nature bleed through.
Out came the horns, the ears, the eyes. All making a willing appearance for once. He held eye contact just long enough to establish a connection before dropping his gaze. “I do hope this isn’t a mistake,” he mused. “I would hate to be perceived as a threat when I am at last not alone. But,” he considered, “instincts can be deeply unpleasant things.”
“Greetings. I am…” He hesitated. “Buck. Not my real name or even a particularly famous false one but perhaps with the horns…” He shook himself. “I’m digressing. Is there any service I can provide, from one servant of myth to another?”
Unblinking, Legacy cocked his head to the side as the fae revealed his true form before him.
Yes. A fae.
The gryphon relaxed immediately, for he knew the one who called himself Buck would not hurt his fellow inhuman. There were rules between their kind, and even though he had never been able to manifest so thoroughly, Legacy understood what was in their natures.
In return, he pushed himself to shift more — as much as he could without hurting himself. Cloth strained as his torso took a more comfortable shape on all fours, and everything from his shoulders up took on the semblance of his original, primeval self. The gryphon, more alive than ever, set down his offering and swept toward the fae with regal confidence, before nudging his beak against the back of his hand. The very presence of another like him had soothed the creature’s violent wrath.
