Once he hit solid ground the ghost released his son from his jaws, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. Kyrios was safe and that was all that mattered. He rested his chin atop his son’s shoulder, a relieved smile working its way onto his pale maw. For now he ignored his water-logged fur, his lanky body not yet ready to move. A soft chuckle rolled off his tongue at the boy’s comment as he pressed his nose to Ky’s pale forehead. “Next time you’ll get it,” he offered in encouragement, his tail thumping lazily against the ground. Just a little more practice and the Aegina would be an expert in crossing rivers—this was only a minor setback.
“You move fast.” His grin widened at the compliment, his head tilting to the side as he studied his son. “And soon you will, too,” he retorted, bumping his nose to the boy’s forehead once more. “If you were blessed with my long legs, of course.” So far Kyrios and his sister looked like a perfect mix of both of their parents, aside from their eye colours. Atropos’ had begun to change into a colour similar to Lachesis’, while Kyrios seemed to be adopting the same golden hue Naia had. But how would adulthood treat them? Would they possess the same lanky, tall stature as their father or the compact, swift frame of their mother?
“Now that we’ve crossed the river, where would you like to go?” He asked suddenly as he pushed himself into a stand. The healer gave a violent shake to rid himself of the water that soaked through his fur, purposely trying to spray the pale Aegina.
stick with those who stick with you