✮ / : exodus was swimming.

a rare sight, to be sure. owed to the merited luxury of her ease filled life and upbringing, the barbaric gal knew the graces of leisure and tasted the peace of fitful idleness. the few hours in her day that wasn't spent hunting, exploring, sleeping or building the insurmountable bonds with her packmates was spent doing things like this.

leg muscles churned as she kicked lackadaisically within the bay’s waters. she clung to the edges of the shore, just enough that her feet could touch the ground if she wished. she had no knowledge of fear in her young body, yet something deep and innate within her bones warned her away from the deeper end where monstrous shadows kissed it's depths. somehow she knew there would be no saving her should she journey into the unknown.

the water was pacifying to the youth’s form-- the liquid blanketed her feathered body, but never clung to her quills. she could feel the gentle shift as the waves rocked gently; a cradle just for her, and she stayed at the top, with easeful grace as if she had been born to dwell with the sea all along.

to anyone unversed in the secrets of her ilk, how the youth managed to stay afloat would seem like a mystery. the water did not cloy her earthen feathers-- it did not hold her captive or drag her down with soggy weight until she was a sputtering, struggling mess.

her advantage all lied in the structure of her feathers; tiny barbules weaved together, holding captive air pockets within their interlocking grasp that kept her buoyant. the knitted infrastructure kept her aloft, and rebuked water from pulling her down. exodus did not know the inner workings her own nature, but she did not dwell on it. did not have the mind to. she was not nearly as curious as her own dear brother.

the self discovery of her proficiency in swimming was enthralling enough, and her pleasure was evidenced in the satisfied gurgling purr lurking in her throat as she warmed her back in the sun’s rays while she allowed the tug of the water to pull her this way and that, admiring her reflection in the glistening waters. much like a swan, with all the prehistoric menace to match.

yes, the striker of the typhoon was taking a well deserved break from her nonexistant responsibilities. doing nothing all day was a harrowing practice.

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✮ / : recognition easily received, with something powerful underneath to stir her feathers rested against the tension of the water’s surface just lightly, her gaze was quickly directed nether. exodus expressed a pleased cognizance the dragon’s vast outline roiling elegantly beneath the depths-- a familiar presence. found safety in it.

the child payed attention to her protector and guardian beneath, clinging jealousy to the stark outline lucifer’s contour.

her mother promised danger to anyone with ill intent who come near, and exodus gazed at the shadow with polite envy-- envy. a recent feeling that left her shallow and hungry but never in her stomach. made her ache for more and more. it was a craving she could not soothe. a burning deep in her gut, and she did not have the capacity to know what why. she always spent too much time wanting. longing. dreaming of the power she was meant to have but never having the patience to wait for it.

a litany of pleased chirps and deeper purrs were her greeting-- tail flexing across the water’s skin in a slow wag. she could squeeze her feathers -- a little flex of her quills, just like so, and all the air trapped underneath the network of her feathers would rush from her like a heated breath and send her dropping to join lucifer below in the depths. but she did not, for now. but even for the gal who thought she and her pack who were too big for this world, she still knee she was testing new boundaries. baby steps.

exodus rather thought that with lucifer’s sweeping, graceful movements, that he was trying to tell her something-- trying to teach her something, in his own way. after all, compulsion taught her that mother was the teacher, the representation and vessel of knowledge from his life and the annals of experience that came with it. it was exodus’s duty to follow and learn.

as lucifer swam, so did she. adjusting to mimick his posture. stretching and flattening her neck against the surface of the water as her own limbs spread wide, coming untucked away from the shelter of her chest. feathers from her arms found rest over the bay’s smooth and almost undisturbed surface. she began to kick, testing power-filled, agile muscles and hollow bones. she glided across the surface of the water with far more ease, more than satisfied at her success.

lucifer emerged with something curious trapped between his teeth. a delicacy.

exodus was never a picky thing. though she had been raised on warm, sweet mammalian flesh, a beastly child such as her was programmed to consume whatever became known to her. she bowed to her inner base desires, and heeded it's savage, callous call for the better good. in her small little world, the only care written upon her carnal heart, etched into her very cells was to be for her family, whom she relied on fiercely like the moon and the sun. anything else was to be prey. that was her calling-- she would make them prey, within due, sickeningly slow time.

like the fish lucifer presented to her now.

mother was always so good to her.

instantly, fiendish, hungering jaws lunged out to snap at the food given to her. she was not impolite about taking the generously delivered offering, but the needs and urges her rapidly growing body screamed at her to take and take and rend flesh from bone. eat to grow big and fierce and strong just like mother. their protector was helping her along. it would be unthinkable to decline or show hesitation in claiming the freely given fish. especially given that her swiftly developing body demanded for more meat. more food. more blood so that she may pack weight and pound into the muscles and fat of a body that would be heavy enough to fell even the mightiest beasts.

feverishly, she feasted. the fish was cold in her mouth and her tongue. cold with it's hard scales as it slid down her throat to her gizzard, but it mattered little to her. cold or hot, food was food. the flesh was exquisite; sent something deep trembling in her blood and the tandem of her pumping little heart. greediness for more. she did not push her luck, though willingness to learn more so that she could acquire what was so easily out of her reach settled heavy and deep into the hollow of her body.

exodus returned lucifer’s favor in the only way she could think of-- opening her jaws write to clamp inconsequential teeth onto black scales, and nibble mother right on the nose.

she rather thought she was preening him.