#❧ ━ ❝ ch. DYN’LO || verse ii: TDC ❞ ━ ☙

[strywoven-moved]

closed . // @theydefy​ ( for periss + dyn ! )

          Last of lingering sunlight drifts ‘neath ever-shifting horizon ; only when night breeches the realm does the Forgemaster ever feel inspired with v o i c e and the keen venture of conversation ( so too is this the time when his day is most to himself , those hours reserved for periss & periss alone , not having to divide himself ‘tween measures of duty & heart ) .  Heavy sigh is let free , claws flexing as the weight of the day’s pressure begins to FINALLY abate from his presence.  But is he ever at rest ?  Something is always amiss ; something always must be fixed or forged which leaves Dyn’lo in a c o n s t a n t motion – ever-working and ceaseless , a MACHINE self-made and self-endowed that ( of his own strength & wisdom ) hoists up the tribe and ensures its function.  An important role ; an oft’ THANKLESS role.

          So it is to the Sandling Dyn’lo retires , finding him already in their shared room ( & not once in their time together , despite the offer otherwise , have they made for separate quarters ; this , a fact that still makes the dustling smile ) .  No preamble this time , Dyn’lo reaches for Periss , tangles arms ‘round the smaller / younger and pulls him n e a r , claws plucking playfully at the lithe bend of his sides as muzzle tips overhead to let teeth graze his shoulder ( he knows below the cloth there’s a mark left over from their bonding ; he hopes it’ll remain for some while ) .  “Periss,” Lowsung and mellifluous , his name sounds less like a moniker and more a m e l o d y ‘pon the tongue of a ‘ desert siren ’ .  “I’ve waited all day to touch you.”  Not hold him , not be with him – TOUCH HIM .  Dyn’lo is not not so ignorant to know what the words may imply , to be deaf to the h i d d e n meaning they may host.  A smile raises the seams of his maw , a warbling purr rumbling in his chest.  “There’s something I need to speak to you about , considering we have … Gone forward with our bond.”  Still hesitant to say the word , are you ?  Predictable.

#❧ ━ ❝ ch. DYN’LO || threads ❞ ━ ☙ #❧ ━ ❝ ch. DYN’LO || verse ii: TDC ❞ ━ ☙ #theydefy #theydefy || periss #i've done the thing fren!! #lmk if you want it changed obviously #i made it short to start but feel free to add more

[strywoven-moved]

@crystalcracked : a kiss to anger a third party // periss and Dyn EHEHE

𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.

Curious warble , curiouser gaze follows the trail of Periss’ gesture , where there beyond the extent of a waving hand does Dyn’lo see the Nobles ( the whole flock of them , too , clustered together as if resembling a CONJOINED ENTITY of fur , great plumes , & adornments ; the very mind of the tribe , the core of his people , a beast all their own ) .  For a passing moment , the great Xehan’ra and Dyn’lo meet in the mind – an exchange of l o o k s , a wordless conversation passing within the distance that divides them where within flourishes a TENSION that has been cultivated for all the trine the Forgemaster has contested their politics and teachings.  He understands her desires of him , her askance conveyed in little more than a lingering glance which flickers uncertainly ‘tween him and Periss ; the urge for him to c o n f o r m , to do RIGHT by his tribe ( you dismiss us , but you are undeniably one of us , he hears in his heart ) .  They know already – as everyone is by now aware – that he has given himself to Periss.  It was only a matter of time ‘fore the Nobles elected for ACTION , ‘fore they decided to PASS JUDGMENT for an unprecedented o f f e n s e .

“Them ?”  Dyn’lo questions , tossing his head a bit , fur fluffing in what could only be d i s d a i n .  “They’ve no power over us,” He looks down towards the Sandling , small smile curving his maw.  “They are simply AFRAID .”  But there is no fear in him ; there never was.  Not a moment spared to reconsider , nor a second left to the unknowns ( periss was his known ; periss was all he wished to continue knowing despite the consequences that shadowed their choices from here on ) .  Was it so wrong ?  Dyn’lo wondered.  Could it be so a w f u l to love and be loved so COMPLETELY— Yet in the logic of their respective people , this was … ILLOGICAL , what they were doing – what they’ve done.  Even so , there they stood , a living representation to dispute with the fact.

“I suppose,” Dyn’lo speaks up again , claws reaching out to pull the younger close to him , letting their forms easily mold together.  “If they prefer to stand there and gawk as they are , we should GIVE them something to stare at.”  Opposite paw fixes to Periss’ cheek , lifting his face enough to meet the way the forger bows to kiss him.  Not in the business of being chaste , of hiding anything even in public , his maw parts ‘gainst Periss’ lips , pressing / demanding for m o r e .  A display is what it is ; an ANTAGONIZATION , a direct stone cast at the Nobles’ esteem and authority ( look you powerful cowards ! he thinks with dissent , you’ll never understand but you’ll see it for yourself— ! ) … Yet no less sincere.  Dyn’lo c r a v e s Periss ; a hunger and depthless longing he doesn’t recognize in himself ( a love of need as much a love of necessity ; the heart that beats in them both can salvage them from themselves ) .  And he realizes , as the thread of d e s i r e unspools through him once again , he has entirely become BEHOLDEN to it , as if indebted to the long while spent i g n o r i n g the bloodwrit instinct to have and to hold.

Satisfied purr rumbles through him when he at last withdraws , not heady and breathless like a twitterpated kit , but also not entirely stoic as he would like ; he knows he’ll come back for more later.  Quiet beside him comes the harp of his title , turning , he finds the heiress standing just behind.  It is the look on her face which stops his voice , withers his commentary ; her pale gaze is directed RIGHT INTO HIM , keen as knives , digging and cleaving and digging more— But not with contempt , out of concern.  She is n e r v o u s .

Her paws raise , unveiling from the furls of her embroidered silks , quickly she signs , 〈 Are you truly willing to die for this ?  For him ?  Will that be worth it for you ? 〉

Even after her words , he continues to watch her claws , slowly lifting his eye to meet her gaze.  She leans forward a bit , EXPECTANT of him as ever to meet the occasion of her questions.  He frowns , own paws signing in return , 〈 I would.  For him , I would do anything.  This is fact , Ayn , it will be worth everything to me for Periss himself is worth everything to me. 〉

#❧ ━ ❝ ooc || maybe queue really are just some forgotten story in the end || queue ❞ ━ ☙ #❧ ━ ❝ ch. DYN’LO || answered ❞ ━ ☙ #❧ ━ ❝ ch. DYN’LO || verse ii: TDC ❞ ━ ☙ #the way i continue to write you a novel every time u send smth to dyn from periss oTL #very telling indeed #crystalcracked #crystalcracked || periss

[strywoven-moved]

@theydefy​ asked : ❛ i’d be so lost without you. ❜ // periss to dyn!

𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.

          Heart l u r c h e s hearing such a confession ( please – please don’t go saying such things , periss— ) , concentration on his craftsmanship effectively broken , the songlike ripple of energy charming the workspace suddenly DULLING & DISSIPATING as the Dustling’s hammer falls slack in clawed grasp.  “Lost ?”  He sounds more startled than he intends to , his voice hitching into a surprised c h i r p .  Spinning stool twirls away from the bench scattered with half-transfigured materials still smoldering and glimmering , Dyn’lo turning ‘round to face his companion perched on the steps leading back towards the main home above their heads.  He gives a few clicks , a warble of c o n f u s i o n to offset the effect of the other’s words , “I’m not sure I understand , Periss , you don’t seem lost to me.  And surely that’s nothing to do with whatever I’ve done.”  Taking things LITERALLY again , are we ?  Or perhaps … There’s something more to it.  Dancing ‘round the meaning of what his friend has said in attempts to hide from the way it makes him f e e l — Too scared to acknowledge just HOW MUCH he means to Periss ( likewise how much periss means to him ) , too nervous to look their bond in the eye and give it a n a m e .

          A few moments of thoughtful silence pass , the Dustling looking down at the hammer dormantly clutched in his claws.  He gives an idle twirl of the wrist , spinning the tool about , causing the stones notched within its helm to h u m .  Dyn’lo is not so ignorant , he UNDERSTANDS what Periss means.  And he is so loathsome of his furless face , envious of his more covered cousins in that moment , for the fair flesh of his cheeks begin to h e a t up ever so faintly , utterly BETRAYING HIM .  “Well …”  The sentiment dies ‘fore it even begins.  He’s suddenly not sure what to say.  For as well-learned as he is , how is it that one sandling can render him completely STUPEFIED ?  A sigh , voice lowering to a mumbled croon , “You’re never lost with me , Periss.  And for what it’s worth , I’m quite grateful to have ‘ found ’ you.”  With fur b r i s t l i n g and his nerves running rampant , the forgemaster is rather quick to whip back ‘round to his work and continue as if he’s said nothing at all ( why did he just say that ? why is he acting so foolish ? it makes no sense— ! ) .

#❧ ━ ❝ OOC || maybe QUEUE really are just some forgotten story in the end || queue ❞ ━ ☙ #❧ ━ ❝ ch. DYN’LO || answered ❞ ━ ☙ #❧ ━ ❝ ch. DYN’LO || verse ii: TDC ❞ ━ ☙ #theydefy #theydefy || periss #i have brainrot for these two #moogle PLEASE-- #i'm dying i'm genuinely deceased i'm--

[strywoven-moved]

I don’t think you guys understand - Dyn’lo is considered EXTREMELY WELL OFF in his society , to the point that his standing with the Nobles has allotted him many facets of power / prestige.  With no other family ( aside from a sister who took his place as a mystic-familiar ) , the Great One essentially watched over him from his youth until now.  At one point , recently , the Great One broached the topic of h i m potentially being considered as a suitor to her daughter.  To which , this emotionally stunted brick wall simply snorted and replied , “Are you certain ?”  That went over about as well as you might expect , with the Great One mentioning that he should rethink his stance before he disgraces or embarrasses himself again.

#❧ ━ ❝ ch. DYN’LO || headcanons ❞ ━ ☙ #❧ ━ ❝ ch. DYN’LO || verse ii: TDC ❞ ━ ☙ #sorry this idiot is the only thing i'll be talking abt for the next [insert timeframe here] #but no fr #it's... an offense for him to do this #and the fact he's done this TWICE NOW is fkn remarkable to me #as it is to the nobles who are like 'brother.... are you okay??'

[strywoven-moved]

@crystalcracked asked : ❛ at every moment of our lives, we all have one foot in a fairytale and the other in the abyss. ❜ // olenor to dyn?

𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.

“I am … Working …”  Comes the grunt from the forger , painted face turning just enough to send his lover superior a narrow-eyed l e e r , where within all-dark hues burns less a resentment for the able disturbance to his craft and more a softened ire ( how can he be dismissive of the other ? they both know that he would listen to olenor for the rest of time , work be-damned ) .  Looking forward again , skillful paws continue once finding a momentary relish of q u i e t ; the table is given a calculated TURN ( first the outer rim , then the inner circumference ) , bringing the runes and materials into c a r e f u l , and particular alignment.  

“Your words resonate with me …”  Voice comes disjointed , interjected by the ( last ) Dustling’s CONSTANT MOTION ( a meticulous machine , he seems , he could very well not even watch his paws & still transmute something from the very depths of his mind's-eye ) .  “... For a fact , I fear , I know well …”  He pauses again , reaching to take up his hammer , letting the handle weigh easily into his hardened palms ; a whisper pressed into the engraved head , eliciting a quiet t r i l l of the alloy and stones.  As if watching art in motion , Dyn’lo reels back ( an oddly graceful curve & crest , the tool arching overhead , gathering energy ) and performs a deliberate downward swing , striking with such f o r c e the magic exhumes from him in some GREAT EXHALATION — frothing forward in trembling bellows and crackling warbles that splinter away from the forger in palpable current , in a shrapnel flurry of sparks ( some of which near-harmlessly find themselves caught on olenor’s attire , skittering ‘cross him as a testament to his subordinate’s unwavering strength ) .  “... What you mean.”  Dyn’lo finishes , laying his tool to rest once more and turning his chair to face Olenor awaiting , observing nearby.

“For some while , I have felt an entire disconnect from the rest of the world since my first passing.”  First passing ... He means to say when he first stood 'pon the threshold ; when Death itself told him its secrets and pushed him back into the living world. Claws enfold together , perhaps to stop their mindless futzing about ( after all , he feels a need to move , to always be moving lest he be felled by the raving mind ) .  Head tips , momentarily looking down to his lap , then to his loyal hammer.  Then finally he looks up again to Olenor.  “As much as I have felt the same way in part due to the visions I have told you about.”  Furless brow creases , a frown pulls his maw.  “... But none of that is a fairytale.  What I - we - saw … Is very much r e a l !”  He stops , reconsiders the words , begins again , “I a g r e e with you , Master Olenor,” Dyn’lo admits , “I do not find what you say to be entirely incorrect.  Not for me , for you , for any of us , truthfully.”  Body leans forward , eyes narrowing some , voice lowering to a growling octave , “But which for you is the fairytale and which is the abyss ?”  Those obsidian eyes GLEAM with the intensity they take when studying a new material ; the URGE to pick something apart , to SCRY for answers.  “Life … Or Death ?  War … Or Peace ?”

#❧ ━ ❝ ooc || maybe queue really are just some forgotten story in the end || queue ❞ ━ ☙ #❧ ━ ❝ ch. DYN’LO || answered ❞ ━ ☙ #❧ ━ ❝ ch. DYN’LO || verse ii: TDC ❞ ━ ☙ #crystalcracked #crystalcracked || olenor #dyn'lo really out here like ''tell me your secrets'' #i'd tell him mine tbh #ksdjncd

[strywoven-moved]

@crystalcracked asked : ❝ i see people for who they really are. i see you, too. ❞  // to Dyn from Periss!

𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.

Nightfall brings a REPRIEVE , asks for meager moments of quietude where daylight is scored by the madness of battle / by the tyranny mindlessness of w a r that takes too much from all those engulfed in its shroud.  But the mind is not a STEADY NOR STABLE place , for all he knows , for all he has seen , Dyn’lo finds himself terribly f r a y e d ; teetering ‘pon an increasingly dangerous precipice.  And in the dark , he believes he sees c l e a r e r ; the dead and awaiting otherness which extend their arms beyond the veil to him as if to say : you’ll be safer here , perhaps it’s time to come home , our son— The very same madness that seized his father has now come for him.  But it would be quite rude to have Death again offer its hand and not take it , not k i s s it , not ask for the escort.

Death makes for the only certainty.  Even above his science ; even above his reasons and rationality.  It had left its mark on him once , and never left him alone since.  Living was never quite the same ( never as full , never as satisfying ) , until of course ⸺

“⸺ Periss.”  Says it like a prayer , as if blessing this scourge could absolve him.  By some magic , the Sandling appears , stepping out of the forger’s reverie and standing within the dark , smoke-heavy dimness of the room the two have been allotted.  Nothing is said.  Nothing is done.  Dyn’lo can sense there is something WANTING , something waiting to be put to voice.

The ( last ) Dustling does not seek to pry , instead continuing to resume his stupor ‘til the other felt inclined to break the trance.  He appears every bit the beast the rumors have spoken him to be , perched there upon his seat with limbs crooked and grown plumes UNFURLED .  Scant moonglow does little to mend his damnable favor , stretching his shadow outwards ‘cross the floor as some transfigured , disgruntled entity that snaps at Periss’ soles.  He takes a drag of his pipe , illuminated by the scented glow at its tip ; painted and adorned face cast in the gleam of something uncannily VICIOUS , distorting the sharpened edges of his muzzle and making the gilded ink ‘pon his face seem to BLEED .  “Speak,” Dyn’lo commands having lost his patience , voice laced with sweet-haze , heavy and husked.

What Periss says draws the dormant creature’s attention , dark eyes pinning to him with a WILD INTENSITY burning in their voidful depths.  “See me ?”  Dyn’lo echoes , though it sounds almost like an accusation , twisted with condemnation.  A hum , a nod … Another drag of the pipe , head lifting and turning away to blow the smoke out the window nearby. "See me," Repeats himself , giving a bark of a laugh , looking towards his mate again with a wry twist of the maw. “What do you s e e , Periss ?  A heretic ?  A predator ?  A dishonorable warrior ?”  All of these , accredited titles ( perhaps even true ) .  He leans forward , coming into the light.  “What am I … REALLY ?”  Asked with a dangerous , imploring grin ; made up of t e e t h where sweet-haze coils from the narrow and bloodied gaps ‘tween their serrated points.  “Do you love me any less for seeing me as I am ?”

#❧ ━ ❝ ooc || maybe queue really are just some forgotten story in the end || queue ❞ ━ ☙ #❧ ━ ❝ ch. DYN’LO || answered ❞ ━ ☙ #❧ ━ ❝ ch. DYN’LO || verse ii: TDC ❞ ━ ☙ #crystalcracked #crystalcracked || periss #your honor... #he's insane

[strywoven-moved]

@theydefy​ asked : a kiss against shoulder blades as arms wrap around from behind // and another for periss and Dyn bc I’m obsessed

𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.

          Rare was it that Dyn’lo asked much of anyone , or anything , but he asked QUITE A LOT of a simple glass of drink ( help me to forget , he whispers ‘tween the greediness of each swallow ; take away what i know of what will happen to my people— ) .  For a while , his self-prescribed drought w o r k s ; the sweet-spiced liquor permeating his memories like a cleansing haze , letting him drift pleasantly ‘tween coherence and non for a time.  The claws gripping the glass feel WARM & TINGLY , his nerves are soothed and s m o t h e r e d with an easing , bewitching balm ( momentary , he knows , none of this will last & he is not in the business of being a drunk , however good it feels ) .  With his forging work long-done for the day , he allots himself this ONE INDULGENCE .  After all , was it not f a i r he should be given a reward for holding the asks of the entirety of his tribe ‘pon his shoulders for several trine ( & therein several trine more ) ?  This was good enough , this was proper enough when he hardly heard an ounce of gratitude for his tradework.

          From somewhere far off , that VOICE returns – eyes pressed tighter closed , teeth baring in hopes to abolish its presence ‘fore it speaks : you will die on behalf of your people , and they will not thank you.  The words , although t r u e , find him with a creeping sense of DREAD & DESPAIR ( the influence of them manifests a powerful thing , driving a wedge further ‘tween himself & his life ) .  Head bows , hand receding from his now-empty glass to press to his face.  Even the liquor cannot absolve him of this , can it ?  A spectre which has been haunting / hunting him since the a c c i d e n t when he was younger.  He only hopes ( in vain ) that he can outrun it and its prophecy.

         Head lifts from his calloused palm , half-lidded eyes looking towards the entrance of the small kitchen to watch Periss come into the room.  Despite himself , Dyn’lo s m i l e s .  He can’t help it , Periss is the true face of the cure he seeks.  “Periss,” He hums , “I wasn’t going to be much longer , I just wanted something to drink—” This Sandling has other plans , it seems , for he is already there , slipping his arms ‘round Dyn’lo’s form and holding tightly onto him.  Claws roam along the length of one arm tangled about him , head shaking slightly.  “You’re a needy thing , as always.”  Dyn’lo grumbles , though his tone carries no admonishment only a lighthearted , chiding affection.  

            He has the idea to move , to turn and gather Periss in his arms and carry him to bed.  The chance never comes.  Instead , he is again stopped by his mate , feeling the familiar graze of his l i p s trailing over the juncture of shoulder blades ( careful , of course , to mind the rise of spines following the strong bend of backside ) ; the space ‘tween neatly folded obsidian-plumed wings.  Fur bristles , feathers ruffle — though not because the sensation is at all unpleasant , the sound that rumbles out of the broad-barrel of furred chest is one of contentment , nearly a PURR / nearly a HUM .  Periss’ mouth follows the too-sensitive trail of the tangled , gnarled scar that rips an UNSIGHTLY SCRAWL ‘cross his left shoulder ( nothing compares to the way this feels ; each lingering kiss placed to the wounds a reminder of unspoken but obvious love — an extension of the sandling’s readily given reverence ) .  It seems that with every beat of his heart , Periss offers another kiss and Dyn’lo cannot keep pace ; does not k n o w what to do with himself.  It is ... OVERWHELMING .  It is , too , a very queer thing.  The Dustling never thought of himself as a creature enslaved to his heart like his peers ( logic , he said many times , logic overall ) .  But it is his heart - it is his EMOTIONS - now that rule him , that so obviously remind him of the depth of how he feels for Periss ; devotion , desire , and all the rest— How foolish he was to try and make sense of it.

        In the moments after the gesture , he slowly exhales , turning some to look over at Periss smiling knowingly up at him.  “... Do you realize,” Voice is low , shaken and trembling ‘pon the tones of unfamiliar tenderness ( his breath is sweetened by the liquor , his words made all the more saccharine ) , “How much I love you , Periss ?”

#❧ ━ ❝ OOC || maybe QUEUE really are just some forgotten story in the end || queue ❞ ━ ☙ #❧ ━ ❝ ch. DYN’LO || answered ❞ ━ ☙ #❧ ━ ❝ ch. DYN’LO || verse ii: TDC ❞ ━ ☙ #theydefy #theydefy || periss #i reckon the way periss was able to do this was bc dyn was sat on his haunches #but!! #i needed this scene #did i mention i love them? bc i do #they're my faves

[strywoven-moved]

@theydefy asked : ❝ i didn’t know you had it in you . i liked it . ❞ // periss to dyn :3

𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.

All has again fallen SILENT & STILL , the memory of battle wounded into the sands like scatterings of a story no-one involved felt inclined to repeat ( & as was part of the ritual , whatever happens out here beyond the boundary of the homestead , stays beyond the boundary of the homestead ) .  A cold wind graces the dunes , carrying away the stains of it , whisking it off in swirling , glittering grains tinged crimson.  Dyn’lo looks on , watches the desert CLEANSE HERSELF of the disgrace he and his fellow have just committed ( not the first , he knows , nor the last ) .  The chill of the night seems to press its hands to his heated face , leaving a whisper in the mind of the son who so readily listens to the call : you are victorious , savor your strength , you will need it in time— Another unknowable prophecy.  Another reminder of his place in the reckoning ( a place he still doubts ) .  The Dustling lets the feeling come and go , his voice rising to tease the fleeing sensation ‘fore he stops himself , “I will … I w i l l .”  An affirmation he will assuredly abide.

Long has it been since SAVAGERY outweighed the essence of intelligence.  And ever the more rational of his peers , it is not like Dyn’lo to be so r e c k l e s s ; but he is also never one to turn down a challenge where probability weighs heavily in his favor ( did he not warn the young hunter ? did he not make himself clear enough ? ) .  This , a strange thing that possesses him— The realization , the momentous UNDERSTANDING , that all creatures are thus imbued with this sense of viciousness.  And he was surely no different ( there was violence living in him ) .

Gaze follows after the Hunter being carried off by his fellows.  Dyn’lo is left to wonder if , even all the way out here in the area where these duels are held ( always in secret , always off-grounds to preserve the honor of those involved ) , anyone back in the homestead perhaps heard the Hunter’s SCREAM OF PAIN when Dyn’lo shattered the other’s leg in his jaws ?  It’s possible , he knows , but he hopes not regardless.

Blood leaks from half-parted maw , the excited heave of his heart slowing into its more steadied rhythm.  Head turns at the sound of Periss’ voice , the tone of which earns a p r i d e f u l display of sanguine-smeared teeth , tongue gliding over the dangerous points in APPRECIATION for what he’s just done.  “We Dustling , like you Gelfling,” He says , smile still remaining as he collects his silk and necklace from the other’s arms , returning them to his person.  “Have our own fair share of secrets.”  Head cocks towards the now-distant forms barely visible ‘gainst the night-dark dunes.  “Putting someone in their place is natural , isn’t it ?”  Asks although he knows the answer ( at least , he has come to his own conclusion & figured himself in the right ) .  Fixing his silk , he gestures for them to begin their journey back – not a long one , perhaps a mile.  “You … LIKED seeing me that way , Periss ?”  Dyn’lo questions with a chuckle.  “I suppose that’s not surprising.  Perhaps it would be fine to test my teeth on y o u sometime , hm ?  I wager you might enjoy that , too.”

#❧ ━ ❝ OOC || maybe QUEUE really are just some forgotten story in the end || queue ❞ ━ ☙ #❧ ━ ❝ ch. DYN’LO || answered ❞ ━ ☙ #❧ ━ ❝ ch. DYN’LO || verse ii: TDC ❞ ━ ☙ #theydefy #theydefy || periss #periss ngl #i think your boyfriend is a little #as the kids say #DERANGED #but like #lowkey #for the funnee haha

[strywoven-moved]

@crystlshrds​ asked : ❛ how do you know my name? ❜ from jen to dyn'lo!!

𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.

          How do his cousins do it ?  Living out here in the green and rough ?  He does not UNDERSTAND— !  Ever since he crossed the border he has had the w o r s t headache ( too many new smells ! too many new creatures ! he is both intrigued & appalled all at once , lending to a fit of uncharacteristic frustration ) .  It is through his pain he endures , persists , b e c a u s e his sister made the ghastly reminder that their race is , too , DYING— If nothing is done , the Dustling could follow the same course as their counterpart Dousan and be cleansed from the face of Thra for good.  This , a prophecy he has heard many times afore , and even s t i l l he does not quite recognize what it has to do with HIM of all the remaining Dustling ( though there are so few now ) .  He does not believe in what destiny puts in his path ; he is a creature of LOGIC – and none of this , not him being forced out of his home for some wild search nor his being part of a ‘big design’ , seemed at all LOGICAL .

           But then again , Dyn’lo pauses to rest a moment , brushing a paw over his face in silent exasperation the longer he thinks on it , there’s no real logic left , is there ?  The realm is in turmoil , everything else feeling the scourge it entails – that in itself , simple FACT .  A sigh.  Did that mean he was involved now ?  Whether he liked it or not ?  He supposed , inadvertently , EVERYONE was involved.  As is by Dustling tradition , he reminds himself : do your part.

         Wait a second… Eyes peer through the gaps of sharp claws , Dyn’lo scenting the air once – twice – and a third time for good measure … THAT SCENT !  It’s Gelfling !  With the recognition dawning on him , the Dustling is already up and moving , sprinting through the thicket following his nose.  Jumping up atop a downfallen stone structure to get a better vantage , he squints to better s e e what he knows he has s m e l l e d ( dustling noses do not lie ! but it can’t be possible , can it ? ) .  And there , wandering just below , he finds exactly what ( rather , who ) he was told he would find.  Despite himself , Dyn’lo leans PRECARIOUSLY over the edge of his perch , calling out to the other.  Only when Jen turns , looks up , and responds does the Dustling’s beak-like maw preen into a grin of pointed ivories ( so , it’s true , there is a gelfling left ! his sister’s message did not pry him away from his desert for no good reason after all ! ) .  Good news , indeed , good news— the verse comes easily to mind , great coat of fur bristling as black-stone eyes come ALIGHT with rare excitement.

          “I was told,” Simple answer ; HONEST & DIRECT , however vague it might seem.  Dyn’lo reclines away momentarily , reappearing to descend gracefully down the rockface of the broken pillar in but a few leaps and bounds.  Landing ‘pon taloned feet nearby , he rises up , settling back on his haunches with clawed hands tucking neatly at his front.  Maned head cocks , “Is that truly important to know ?”  He chirps quizzically , “I would venture to guess there’s a bigger reason we’ve met.”

#❧ ━ ❝ OOC || maybe QUEUE really are just some forgotten story in the end || queue ❞ ━ ☙ #❧ ━ ❝ ch. DYN’LO || answered ❞ ━ ☙ #❧ ━ ❝ ch. DYN’LO || verse ii: TDC ❞ ━ ☙ #crystlshrds #crystlshrds || jen