ORIGIN - HOWL

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"A point! A point, she says!" The cry was mostly for his own benefit, and Adeyemi twitched his tail feathers in disbelief, glaring at the cub. "If you point was to prove yourself a danger to others, you quite made it!" He huffed, posture tall with righteous fury - which quickly fled when the other bird took off, leaving him alone with the cub.

"Hey, hey, hey, no, come back!" He hopped on the branch, calling after her, until her silhouette faded into the mist. Turning slowly back to the cub, he swallowed dryly, wings rustling. "Oh dear." He leaned towards the cub from the branch, peering down at her slightly murky form through the fog. "Well, I don't suppose you still want water, hm?" Adeyemi's tone was heavy with dry humor, but not with anger. No, it seemed more like... curiosity.

"You. Artemïs. You have... a gift, yes? Like me. Would it not be more prudent to use it on those who oppose, rather than those who help?" This was said thoughtfully, slowly, tone gentled and coy.

the other was quick to wing off, and the cub was quicker to forget her, her focus falling instead onto the coloured creature that bobbed as it spoke. her lips peeled back into a slow smile, lashes fluttering as she responded in a crisp tone, perhaps it was. she swayed in his direction, and she was no longer revealing those cannibalistic canines—her intentions were no better for it, but here and now, teeth were truly misplaced. learn thy enemy and make ye friends. her aristocratic grace maneuvered her beneath him. perhaps she was nihilistic; or perhaps, that was not her great path.

her enigmatic eyes latched unto him as though they themselves were claws, and his question was met with the dry sweep of her tongue across own lips. she was.

but his question... that begged an answer. a true one. you must e a t the rude, she responds, for their help is fleeting—and the way they pester, and annoy... it outlasts their use— she drawled. some are better off dead. her words were flat as she looked up to him. she did not think that of the crow she would quote nevermore, and neither did she think that of he himself; she did not get on her knees to be understood, or speak to merely be heard; actions spoke, and she knew no discretion.

Adeyemi hopped along the branch, following the cub's movements, stopping when she did and tilting his head this way and that. "It isn't prudent to make enemies so easily," he replied, voice even and cold. "To have friends, however weak or strong, is to have power." The turaco flinched as the cub licked her lips, trying not to imagine himself as her next meal. After all, he was rather stuck - with no ability to fly, Adeyemi was up a creek without a paddle. Or, well, up a tree without a flight plan.

"Rudeness is anger held in place," he retorted, glaring. "It would do you well to remember it is so." Still, her other words made him nod. "Eating your foes seems a bit droll, but I suppose for one of your kind it would be expected," he muttered, tone dark with disrespect. "And if some are better off dead, others are better off elsewhere, lest they be burdened with an unwanted foe."

"You and I, we are young," he continued, turning his gaze up to the sky and striding along the branch, feathers puffed up in display. "With our strength combined, surely we would be better as... allies, if not friends. Yes?"

he spoke of the sagaciousness in which she so presently lacked, and his cold voice was met with appraising eyes. how insightful this little bird was! you sing pretty words, was all she said... as much as a verbal agreement as any. of course, she disagreed—but such a thing could not be seen beyond the enjoyment of his presence that came from her in waves. she rest upon hindquarters, listening to his peroration.

rudeness, she comes at him in her blithe tone, is ones lack of self-control. a hint of their imbecilic nature. i do not have time for the rude but for them to wet my palette, a pause, as she looked over her shoulder as though to find the creature that winged off, though i wonder if i have a taste for them... but, as for unwanted foe, her head whipped back to him: how do you mean? the dead could bother her no more; dead men could not prattle, nor bore, nor annoy. dead men were d e a d. it was easy to ignore ghosts.

his question was met with a look of contemplation. you have power, a pregnant pause, strength?

The turaco seemed to be relaxing in increments, impressed despite himself by the cub's words. She was the first to match his eloquence, not to mention her wit. "If you presume that every foe you make will be so easily dispatched as a wounded bird," he drawled, raising a burned foot in example, "you will quickly find yourself in... what is the phrase? Ah, yes. Deep water." He croaked out a laugh, staring down at Artemïs contemplatively. "It is better to have few weak foes and many strong friends than the opposite. It does not matter if you truly care for them; the weak are desperate, and desperation makes for easy prey."

He didn't seem to be speaking from experience, but he could lie well, tone even and sure. "Imbeciles make for excellent shields." He turned away for a moment to contemplate her question, a bit stung that she had to ask at all, before glaring down at the cub. "Yes. I do. I will gladly use you as a practice dummy, but I rather think it more prudent to simply believe me when I say something. If I lie, you shall know."

He chirped, rustling his wings as if wishing to take flight like the crow had. "Your... powers. They can reach beyond what can be seen, yes? You can pull things from others, like you did to the loud one who fled." Adeyemi's crest rose in pride. "I do not take my power. I create it. From nothingness, there is fire."

his words were sound, but he did not know her; his advice was not lost upon her, because she did agree to the words he spoke, and nodded demurely when he had finished the first bout of them. thoughtful for but a moment, her voice again finds its way into the space around them, so as to erase his own presumptions made upon she herself and to instead, replace them with her truths. it would be foolish to think any of that, her eyes flash, i am a stranger in a new place. it is not enemies that i am after, but then, she was not truly after friends, either—she was after something more attainable, more in her reach, than either of those things. she sought p o w e r, and she had felt it—tasted it—and she would h a v e it. in any case, deep waters where the least of her worries—it was a good thing indeed to know how to swim. though i am intolerant to disrespect. such was what she had felt when the crow had called her a name. if she were to make her own name, it was best to rob others of the ability to call her anything else—and rob them she would, if she could...

but she needed to grow stronger.

everything he said appealed to her heart, and her desire for power—to hold power over others was an intriguing thought, to influence them to become that shield... to unite them for a great purpose... h e r purpose, but a purpose surely she did not solely identify with?

do not tempt fate with such words, she advises, i am no t h i n g to be practiced on. i am not omniscient, her eyes flash ( one day, one day! ) i do not know of what power you do or do not wield. trust is a thing earned, not freely given—to believe a stranger! as deadly a thing to do as to drink the poisons they would have you slake your thirst with! she had trusted her chrysalis to hold her, to keep her—that had betrayed her, to release her unto this world, this place of pain and powerful wonders. . . from the very instant she was conceived she was burned by it.

but he explained himself, whether spurred on by her poetic disquisition or his own will she could not be sure—and if at all possible, she drew her breast closer to the bark, feeling the splinters of the wood push against her supple flesh.

( some say the world will end in fire )

she, i c e

but what of them combined?

and you would be my flame? comes her query, then.

Adeyemi's crest rose to its full height, and he glared down at the bird. The show seemed more to intimidate than to impress. "To believe does not take trust, dear girl," though his tone suggested she was anything but, at the moment. "I do not trust you, but I believe your pretty words, however false they may truly be. If you constantly question those around you, you will no doubt go mad." Or perhaps more mad, as the case may be. Still, she sounded eerily like his own thoughts, and the glare lessened as he rustled his wings contemplatively.

The turaco jumped when the cub leaned even closer to the tree, peering up at him with liquid eyes. And you would be my flame? His first instinct was to say no, if only for principle's sake, but he stayed silent, eyes wide as he stared down at the girl. To... belong. That must be a form of power. To have an ally of equal strength, certainly... it must be part of my purpose. Adeyemi relaxed, chirping, his gemstone talon clacking at the bark of the tree. A moment's more hesitation, and then - "Yes. I will be your... flame."

The words were cooed out, smooth like silk. "And you? What will you be to me, little one, with such lovely words? Would you make me your own just to slake my thirst with these poisons you speak of, leave me when I grow tiring?"

post-roll:
Flames licked up from his feet, smoke rising from his nostrils and the feathers around his piercing eyes. "Do not tempt me, child, if you will only snuff me out," he drawled, raising a burning foot with a sickly kraw!

she was amused that he trusted her. while in this case, she had no b a d intentions... with others, she surely would. the small creature of flame was a fortunate find for her; the young cub would not get rid of this one, but keep him, a l w a y s. better mad then dead—my pretty words could be for naught! to lull you into my pretty mouth— what point did this prove? how could this aid her? he would likely fly away now, if he could... her rounded ears flicked as he accepted becoming her flame, and her tail curled behind her. good. a wicked grin lit her features at his question.

do not think of yourself so lowly. one could never grow tired of you, she purred pleasantly, her mood lifted. what i will be for you, she mewls, is everything. i am not strong yet, she understands and admits, but i will be. she could not predict what the future day would hold, when she practiced herself to death; to her, this was the beginning of something brilliant.

One could never grow tired of you. Adeyemi straightened, cooing in agreement, snuffing out the fire clinging to his claws with a click of his beak. The turaco stayed silent, listening to the cub's words, allowing the tiny seed of endearment that had been planted by her ruthlessness to begin to grow, blossoming with the realization that she truly did want to ally herself with the burning bird. What I will be for you... is everything.

The turaco cocked his head, thinking of his owlet friend. Perhaps both of them could be everything, but it seemed risky to let two allies share such a place by his side. The prince threw away the thought - after all, they were both strong, capable of handling their own lives. All he had to do was sit back and watch. "Oh, my dear," he sing-songed with a short laugh, "you are plenty strong now, and your power will only grow, as mine will."

Adeyemi nodded to himself, strutting down the branch a bit, glancing at the cub with a grin. Apparently accepting her words as a kind of promise not to eat him as soon as he landed, the chick hopped out of the tree, leaving the safety of the perch. He fluttered to land nearby, peering at the girl, cooing with pride. "I do believe this is the start of a beautiful friendship," he murmured with a puff of his chest feathers, bowing low to the ground, bright feathers on display. "A pleasure, to be aligned with someone of such pretty words."

@Artemïs

his words did much to bolster her own confidence and ego, and had she feathers she would have ruffled them proudly; instead her shoulders rolled forward as her head lifted to its summit, her seafoam eyes holding him with an ample amount of fondness. they were new to one another, but things were off already to too good of a start—she and this adeyemi were comrades, now—to the point where perhaps she did hold some degree of trust in him... if only because he had proven to be smart enough to draw to her side. the rosette-spotted youth did not forget his own words: that it was better to feign friends than gain an enemy. it led to some speculation, but the flame had ignited a fire in her icy heart she could not smother out. hope. a terrible thing.

the pleasure is all mine, comes her mimicked tone, sincere in its dulcet waves. come, let us discuss the future, in which the two would surely be together! a binding contract, where they would assure one another that they would always find one another—

unknowing that such a thing would ever truly need to be done.

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