Oh, the living are dead and the dead are all living ◇ Visitor

[ANTARCTICREIGN M.]

HOW THE MOST DANGEROUS THING IS TO LOVE
HOW YOU WILL HEAL AND YOU'LL RISE ABOVE

Green eyes would turn to the small kitten that approached, a gentle smile on the tall tom's maw. He would nod his head in greeting, ears forward as he made it clear he was listening to Goldenpaw's every word. He hummed appreciatively, nodding once more. "Thank you, Little King," he would say smile, eyes skating over the black crown for only a moment. He would momentarily allow his gaze to return to the leader, smile not falling from his maw as he looked over the two residents he spoke to. Related, perhaps, based on the way their markings curled in a similar pattern. Father and son, perhaps?

His thoughts would be interrupted by the way Winterhymns looked past him, the angel following the other's gaze. A flash of lightly colored fur caught his eye and he found himself begging, pleading, oh, Death above don't let that be- A flash of feathers, of falling feathers, and the tom hissed, feathered tail lashing. He gave Winterhymns an apologetic look, extending it to Goldenpaw as well before rushing out a quick apology, already turning. He was already launching himself, launching himself with large wings as he climbed higher into the sky. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOU FUCKIN' CHILD?" he cried but there wasn't an ounce of malice or anger, only a strong tone of fear, of worry, as his youngest and smallest son, went tumbling from atop a Ferris wheel. It was a short fall, just into a seat, but terrifying nonetheless.

He would land atop the ferris wheel, staring in disbelief through the gap at Lionkit. He huffed, ignoring the way his paws shook, as he took a second to center himself, shaking his head. "What the fuck, mate?" he asked in disbelief, stress leaking through every word. Carefully, he would snake his way down, lowering himself into the cart. He would run his eyes over the winged kit, nudging at him with his nose until he was satisfied that the other was unharmed. "Told you to stay," he grunted, gruff but not unkind. He would arch his neck, gently grasping the kit's scruff in his maw. He would lift, using a back paw to nudge open the door to the ferris wheel basket. He would back out, kitten firmly held, wings flaring out to catch the wing. He would glide towards the ground, wings flapping to carefully lower himself to the ground, assuring that the kitten would not be jostled by the landing.

He would carefully lower Lionkit to the ground below his chest, once again checking him for injuries before huffing, allowing his wings to slump. "My apologies, he was meant to stay at the nest," he said as he curled a paw protectively around the kitten. Well, at least now he could get a temperament read on the other.

— Reggan