[ the furl of tongue against him brings with it the taste of blood and something else that he can only imagine is dragonspit. it startles him into a jolt of surprise, brows immediately knitting together in disgust at the initial taste.
although he's unsure if the pact will allow the dragon to read his thoughts, that doesn't keep him from thinking in very clear, certain terms: you're disgusting. notably, it lacks the ire and the hatred that such a phrase would normally possess, which can only mean that the pact is doing wonders for their friendship.
but that's a thought for another time; now, Childe looks, his gaze flooding with awe and a little reverences as the great beast splits the earth beneath the chaotic battlefield. he watches as the soldiers he can see gets swallowed up, disappearing into the depths of the planet with rising screams of agony and horror. some of them were his own men - the few that had scant moments to live - and it's perhaps a sign of their pact that he feels nothing for the lives lost.
is it his feelings, or is it the dragon's? perhaps a mixture of both, especially since they wouldn't have had much time to live anyway.
his gaze turns back to the great beast and he regards it with some modicum of respect, though even that's a generous statement. the taste of dragonspit on his tongue is still lingering, but it's not as aggressively rancid as it had been at first.
no subject
although he's unsure if the pact will allow the dragon to read his thoughts, that doesn't keep him from thinking in very clear, certain terms: you're disgusting. notably, it lacks the ire and the hatred that such a phrase would normally possess, which can only mean that the pact is doing wonders for their friendship.
but that's a thought for another time; now, Childe looks, his gaze flooding with awe and a little reverences as the great beast splits the earth beneath the chaotic battlefield. he watches as the soldiers he can see gets swallowed up, disappearing into the depths of the planet with rising screams of agony and horror. some of them were his own men - the few that had scant moments to live - and it's perhaps a sign of their pact that he feels nothing for the lives lost.
is it his feelings, or is it the dragon's? perhaps a mixture of both, especially since they wouldn't have had much time to live anyway.
his gaze turns back to the great beast and he regards it with some modicum of respect, though even that's a generous statement. the taste of dragonspit on his tongue is still lingering, but it's not as aggressively rancid as it had been at first.
A good trick.
Can you fly, dragon? ]