Something in the air shifted causing Cyprian to stir. Keen eyes lit upon incongruous movement down the mountain. Metallic blue scales shimmered in the morning sun, crystalline blue eyes scanning the area and ears pert. They knew something, someone was here.
-------A part of Cyprian panicked at the arrival of another living being. A myriad of thoughts and emotions went by. Suspicious, afraid, most of all, curious. The aves had questions that need answered. The biggest being: how long had he been dead for? The most anxious: what if this person was here to keep him dead? Cyprian didn't dwell on that one, letting curiousity rule.
-------Slowly spreading his wings Cyprian made a few hops down the mountainside before taking off in a smooth soar. The movement so ingrained that though his muscles strained in their newness the flight was elegant and practiced. He landed himself a good distance from the dogfish. Wolffish. Fishpup. Gilled one. Stranger.
-------"Stranger-" he struggled to find his voice, "-good day. My name is Cyprian", a slight wheeze to his strained voice that carried an accent long lost. Whilst introducing himself the avian elongated one wing, bowing in greeting, gaze never leaving the canine. Better to be courteous than a meal. If he showed trust in this being it may be more likely to indulge his curiosity. He worried it may have been too long since he'd died. That maybe Paradis' language had changed. It would be difficult conveying meaning between such different species. The look the gilled one was giving him didn't leave him with much hope.
-------A part of Cyprian panicked at the arrival of another living being. A myriad of thoughts and emotions went by. Suspicious, afraid, most of all, curious. The aves had questions that need answered. The biggest being: how long had he been dead for? The most anxious: what if this person was here to keep him dead? Cyprian didn't dwell on that one, letting curiousity rule.
-------Slowly spreading his wings Cyprian made a few hops down the mountainside before taking off in a smooth soar. The movement so ingrained that though his muscles strained in their newness the flight was elegant and practiced. He landed himself a good distance from the dogfish. Wolffish. Fishpup. Gilled one. Stranger.
-------"Stranger-" he struggled to find his voice, "-good day. My name is Cyprian", a slight wheeze to his strained voice that carried an accent long lost. Whilst introducing himself the avian elongated one wing, bowing in greeting, gaze never leaving the canine. Better to be courteous than a meal. If he showed trust in this being it may be more likely to indulge his curiosity. He worried it may have been too long since he'd died. That maybe Paradis' language had changed. It would be difficult conveying meaning between such different species. The look the gilled one was giving him didn't leave him with much hope.