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esp_dragonFandom: Arc: Twilight of the Spirits
Summary: "Father, why don't I look like you?"
Rating: K
Notes: I'd have to say that Darc must've been a completely different person before he met Geedo. And since his father wasn't a typical Deimos either...
Like this better than Blood of a Deimos. Bleh.
Genre: Family
Word count: 591
Status: Complete
"Father, why don't I look like you?" Darc looked up at his father to see his reaction, before turning his attention back to the monotonous scenery. It never did seem to change - maybe a different whithered tree or bush, or the cracks in the ground were larger or smaller than usual but that was it. The sun beating its heat on him from above was something else that he'd grown up with, a constant, like how his father was always there with him as well.
They had stopped underneath a lone living tree with broad green leaves casting dark shadows on the ground below. Father was sitting with the tree at his back as he sat next to him, his legs bent at the knees and his eyes closed. Darc flapped his wings a little bit to cool himself down faster.
The only reason they were there was because of him; if he didn't tire so easily, or get affected by the temperature so much, they would still be moving, getting further and further away from the other drakyr. He looked at his mismatched hands, feeling guilty that he was holding Father back because he couldn't keep up.
Father didn't seem annoyed at the question; he chuckled, before ruffling his hair. Darc flailed, trying to swat the offending hand away but it didn't make any difference.
"Faaatheer," he whined, knowing that he was also pouting a little bit. It had helped to distract him though. Father eventually stopped, but he didn't pull his hand away. He was grinning, his fangs showing from behind his lips.
"You do look like me, son," he said fondly.
Darc huffed and crossed his arms. "I know I do." Where else would he have gotten his scales from? The other drakyr that he'd seen were green and he couldn't have been born from a Quorup! He didn't look anything like them. As far as he'd seen, the only person with wings and blue scales was his father. They even had the same kind of horns. But then, who was his mother? An orcon because the rest of his colouring?
It didn't make sense though; when he was younger, he knew that he had suddenly grown wings and scales without any warning. It was one of his happiest moments in his life, seeing them, then comparing them to Father's and finding that they were finally similar. The other was trying to fly and being able to do it for the first time. But why hadn't he been born with them? Or did that happen to every Deimos? They all looked the same at the start and then grew things that showed what race they were? Darc shook his head; it was making his head hurt trying to understand it. "But I don't look completely like you," he insisted.
"Oh Darc..." Father sighed softly, a small smile on his face before he ruffled his hair again, more affectionate this time. "You are my son. You are also your Mother's son; I can see her when I look at you."
Father rarely talked about Mother but when he did, he'd be quieter for the next couple of hours. Darc settled himself on the tree, testing if he was sleepy enough for a nap; he was. He'd take a nap now to pass the time until the day got cooler, and then they'd be on the move again.
He guessed, it didn't really matter who his Mother was - he was with Father and that was all he needed.
Summary: "Father, why don't I look like you?"
Rating: K
Notes: I'd have to say that Darc must've been a completely different person before he met Geedo. And since his father wasn't a typical Deimos either...
Like this better than Blood of a Deimos. Bleh.
Genre: Family
Word count: 591
Status: Complete
"Father, why don't I look like you?" Darc looked up at his father to see his reaction, before turning his attention back to the monotonous scenery. It never did seem to change - maybe a different whithered tree or bush, or the cracks in the ground were larger or smaller than usual but that was it. The sun beating its heat on him from above was something else that he'd grown up with, a constant, like how his father was always there with him as well.
They had stopped underneath a lone living tree with broad green leaves casting dark shadows on the ground below. Father was sitting with the tree at his back as he sat next to him, his legs bent at the knees and his eyes closed. Darc flapped his wings a little bit to cool himself down faster.
The only reason they were there was because of him; if he didn't tire so easily, or get affected by the temperature so much, they would still be moving, getting further and further away from the other drakyr. He looked at his mismatched hands, feeling guilty that he was holding Father back because he couldn't keep up.
Father didn't seem annoyed at the question; he chuckled, before ruffling his hair. Darc flailed, trying to swat the offending hand away but it didn't make any difference.
"Faaatheer," he whined, knowing that he was also pouting a little bit. It had helped to distract him though. Father eventually stopped, but he didn't pull his hand away. He was grinning, his fangs showing from behind his lips.
"You do look like me, son," he said fondly.
Darc huffed and crossed his arms. "I know I do." Where else would he have gotten his scales from? The other drakyr that he'd seen were green and he couldn't have been born from a Quorup! He didn't look anything like them. As far as he'd seen, the only person with wings and blue scales was his father. They even had the same kind of horns. But then, who was his mother? An orcon because the rest of his colouring?
It didn't make sense though; when he was younger, he knew that he had suddenly grown wings and scales without any warning. It was one of his happiest moments in his life, seeing them, then comparing them to Father's and finding that they were finally similar. The other was trying to fly and being able to do it for the first time. But why hadn't he been born with them? Or did that happen to every Deimos? They all looked the same at the start and then grew things that showed what race they were? Darc shook his head; it was making his head hurt trying to understand it. "But I don't look completely like you," he insisted.
"Oh Darc..." Father sighed softly, a small smile on his face before he ruffled his hair again, more affectionate this time. "You are my son. You are also your Mother's son; I can see her when I look at you."
Father rarely talked about Mother but when he did, he'd be quieter for the next couple of hours. Darc settled himself on the tree, testing if he was sleepy enough for a nap; he was. He'd take a nap now to pass the time until the day got cooler, and then they'd be on the move again.
He guessed, it didn't really matter who his Mother was - he was with Father and that was all he needed.