Flashback Winged Justice [Altaira]

[Meville Brightshade]

The bird-child was about as easy to appease as any other youngling. With the mention of food of better lodgings, she seemed completely satisfied with the whole situation, masking her excitement with the mention of curfew. Whatever the child thought might happen that would keep the two of them out past whatever arbitrary time the dinner ritual fell upon, Meville couldn't imagine anything within the realm of practicality, though he supposed the entire situation the two of them were in wasn't at all along the lines of mundane. "I am nearly certain you shall be back in your Arvintha before that specified time." He offered a wink, to which he received a strict order to remain stationary. "...My face?"

His hand moved up to brush against the now sealed wound that had been inflicted upon him at the first instance of their meeting. In the chill of the Avanthal air, his cheeks were far too accustomed to a lack a feeling such that he'd completely forgotten about the slim lesion left from the talons of his once-assailant. "Oh, it's no trouble, a simple flesh wound is pebbles to pay for my own salvation." Seemingly unperturbed by his jest, the child shifted once more back into her feathered form. The process was strangely alluring, though that was most likely due to the shining lights that danced about as the change occurred. It wasn't anything he wished for himself nor to see on a regular basis, but the second time wasn't nearly as surprising as the first, though it was a bit unprecedented.

Once the bird was bird once more, the Kelvic's beady eyes seemed to sum him up, much like when they'd first met, only there was something much less aggressive and more calculated in the dark shine of the beast's gaze. A split tick before either made a move, the girl's prior command to "stand still" flashed across Meville's mind with a depressing, fatalistic alarm. "Wait-!" Before he could finish, the bird launched itself like a living, breathing harpoon of feathery determination directly at Meville's head. Immediately, Meville recoiled somewhat, allowing his arms to move towards his face in order to provide some protection from the battering assault of feathers. After a short time, the creature settled down on his shoulder, her talons gently but firmly digging into the fabric that separated his pale shoulders from her scaly feet.

"Well then." The statement came out as a short, agitated sigh as he glared out of the corner of his eyes into the beady ones of his new companion. "I believe the next time you wish to use me as a living aviary, do have the decency to give me a bit more of a discernible warning." He rolled his shoulders in adjustment, taking care to move slowly enough that the bird could still maintain her grip. "Something along the lines of: 'Prepare yourself, blonde man, I am going to embark upon a nightmarish foray onto your should upon which I shall claim perch'. I'd even accept something as succinct as: 'I am now going to perch there, upon your shoulder'."

He started off, using a slightly slower pace to allow the bird some time to adjust to his gait, letting her rock back and fourth and decide the proper placement for her feet. "Of course, I suppose this sort of weather isn't entirely conducive to those lacking the proper garments, or in your case any at all, so I suppose it's not entirely fair of me to place my frustrations on you for not calling out a more elaborate warning. As the Kelvic had seemed to find a good balance for his pace, Meville sped up some, allowing his feet to hit the ground in their usual rhythm as he headed in the direction of the Red Diamond, as the Commons were a bit far off from their current location. "At any rate, we can't have much of a conversation at the moment, so in the interest of equality in dialogue, I'll make haste to our destination so we might share words, rather than my continuation of-"

He gave the bird an apologetic look, letting his sentence trail off as he settled down into happy silence. The tavern wasn't incredibly far off, so Meville allowed for a more brisk pace, offering smiles at those who gave him confused looks, though they were few as birds weren't entirely a novelty when it came to pets. The coloring was certainly a bit odd, but it seemed most people weren't very concerned with it.

When they arrived at the tavern, Meville hesitated at the door. "I'm almost positive the tavern master is rather adamant about his customers being clothed, though I've never explicitly inquired as to what his exact policy actually is. I think it's safe to make the assumption in favor of, at the very least, undergarments." His blue eyes looked with some concern at the creature perched upon his shoulder, though they did not lack the typical glint of impish enjoyment that came with living life. Meville's lips curled into a slight grin as he appraised the bird, waiting for her to give him some indication as to what they should do regarding the rather troublesome factor of her nudity.

Common | Vani

[Altaira Readva]

Bird Speak | Common | Vani | Others

Human, we have a problem. The trip had been rather uneventful, and Altaira was quite happy to bask in the warmth brought by perching on the shoulder of another, but now they'd ventured inside, a whole new battle was to be fought. "Four siblings, and half a dozen Vantha in each known by name - I got to know at least somebody." She bopped her head in indecision, gaze scanning left and right as she sought a familiar face. 'But please don't be one of the creepy ones.' She shot her walking perch a short look, little mind still incredibly unsure as to where she was to move next.

She shuffled carefully to the left, unwilling to be the cause of too many holes in the human's jacket, craning her little neck as she sought a better look at small gathering of hung, unattended cloaks, before brisking scolding herself for even considering such actions. She gave a jerk of her head, standing up as tall as she could manage, her beady little eyes jumping from one face to the next as she caught the odd glimpse of familiar features.

A moment more and she felt useless, hunkering down as she tried to come up with something before she'd have to admit defeat, and instead pretending that she was preparing a take off as she gave a last hurrah. A few ticks past and she spotted a face that she'd never forget, and her stomach fell. A Frostfaun, one of Willem's friends. She was kind, and sweet... but touchy.

She mediated for a moment, shaking her feathers before deciding that she lacked any other option. She then bopped her head off towards a table or two, trying to convey that she would do very well off on her own. "You - human - sit," she chirped, before launching off with as little attention as she could muster, something difficult when you're a mildly large parrot with striking green plumage, though still nowhere near as eye catching as when she'd reach adulthood.

She took note of where she'd seen the Vantha take seat, scurrying along the floor after her initial jolt to the floor, gliding under table and chair as she avoided spills and steps. A tick more and she scuttled into the woman's feet, not having expected her to have taken such a movement towards her. "Oh, Altaira, sweetie" the woman sung, using the common tongue. She was a sight in both form and countenance, bit it was her interesting mindset that made the most impact. She wasn't a people person, she was an animal person, and refused to acknowledge the fact that Altaira and her brother were as much 'human' as they were beast.

"Whose a sweet little birdie? What are you doing here in such a pretty little form, huh?" Altaira made her awkward attempt at moving backwards before being scooping up and nursed like an infant, feathers fluttering about as she hunkered down in the fiercely uncomfortable position, her head titled awkwardly to the side in an effort to make a form of eye contact with the green eyed lunatic. "I've made a horrible mistake."

The Vantha seemed a bit annoyed, then, turning her back to the counter and shifting to the side. "Stop squirming," she said sharply, in retaliation to Altaira's futile attempts to free her from the horrific belly-up hold. "I'll drop you," Her words were short and clipped, no doubt the only threat she could word in common, but sharp enough a retort to have the kelvic halt all movement.

She gave the Vantha a few ticks to smooth her feathers and otherwise groom and pick at her plumage, satisfying her to some degree. Altaira took a short pause in her movements to nip several bites at her cape. "What, what?" She said, frowning as she stroked the little parrot's neck, obviously disapproving of the 'aggressive' actions. 'No no no, don't- no-stop. Wait. Keep going.' Another tick passed before Altaira remembered what she was doing, and bit the cape of the woman another several times, before shaking her feathers in a way that she hoped conveyed meaning. "You-cape?" She said, furrowing her brows, before nodding slowly and setting Altaira to the ground, irritation hinted in both expression and movement.

The little kelvic scuttled back before thick fabric fell on top of her. Nope, the Vantha was not happy a single, tiny little bit. Altaira shot into a slight panic at the sudden blanket of night, trilling and bopping her head angrily before the woman lifted an edge and she made a break for daylight, another, lighter piece of clothing then ringing her. "No returns," the Vantha continued, a chuckle escaping her lips, before setting her coat back over her remaining layers of clothing, and holding the long shirt in place such that it was an easy slip over when Altaira shifted forms. There was little use thanking her in a speak she'd not understand, so she promptly changed forms with the words ready to spring from her lips.

"Tha-" She began, before she felt the sudden brush of fabric over her, the Vantha woman not even allowing her to gather her bearings before force-dressing her. She felt her arms pulled and yanked through the sleeves, the cape set firmly upon her shoulders, and front drawn closed in her front before she could quite tell what was going on."All set," she cooed, stepping back to admire her work before straightening Altaira's disheveled hair, grooming her as though she were some pet to parade. "Thank you," she drawled, cringing as the knots in her hair were yanked and pulled at.

“I have to go now…” she trailed, standing in dangerous territory. Much to her joy, she soon earned little more than a pout and a look of quite displeasure, before a wave off towards the rest of the room."Of you go, then. But come visit me later, alright?" Altaira nodded twice, short and tight, before a wide grin spread across the woman's features.

When the kelvic turned she felt a light push in the back, quickening her pace with a frown towards the impish woman behind her, who herself set off in the other direction. 'I couldn't have gotten a weirder one than her.' She puffed her cheeks and trotted off in the direction she'd gestured for the blond human, hoping that he hadn't skipped out in the time it'd taken for her to attain clothing, though far more furiously hoping that he'd not seen the exchange it took for her to get it.

[Meville Brightshade]

The Kelvic seemed to share Meville's uncertainty as to what should be done, though from way her head bobbed as she flicked her beady eyes across the room gave him the impression she at least had some sort of plan in mind. Letting her chatter on to herself, Meville stood resolute in the comfortable warmth of the tavern, happily smiling at the few who were interested enough to give either of them notice. The pair shared a brief moment between them, a look of mutual confusion. Short of stealing coats, which both of them decided would be bad form, Meville didn't have any real ideas short of disrobing himself, which would only perpetuate the problem. So, when the bird squawked what seemed to be an imperative, Meville took it to mean he was to find a place for her to return to when she was more flesh and less feather.

As the beast launched herself off of him, Meville casually slid across the room to come to rest at a table near the corner wall, looking out into the snowy streets they had just come from. The rest of the patronage had been thoroughly captivated by the awkward landing of the avian menace, but it was short lived as the thing snaked its way out of sight from half the establishment. Meville, however, kept his bright eyes firmly focused upon the little thing's trajectory, finding her colorful plumage peeking here and there between legs and stools until she arrived at the feet of a young Vantha woman, a friend no doubt.

The following exchange was cringe-worthy in the very least. The woman the Kelvic had chosen to play tailor was a horrendously sweet sort of creature, obviously infatuated with the even the idea of an animal. Being so far, Meville was unable to pick out the specifics of what she said as the tavern was busy enough there was a comfortable buzz, but her facial expressions paired with the sickening sway of her motions reminded Meville of the over attentive mothers fawning over their flesh-spawn with bright, watery eyes and a biased tint to their gaze.

When the woman lifted the bird, Meville couldn't help but grin. The beast that had inconvenienced him now felt a similar experience to his own; no longer the justicar, the little animal had become a pet and quite embarrassingly so. Still grinning as the cloak was draped over the Kelvic and the transformation ensued in a surprisingly brief amount of time, a man had come bearing a mug of ale and a quizzical look on his face. "Ah, yes! Thank you! Maybe one more and some pickled herring." The man nodded, dropping off the mug and heading back to deliver the order.

As the young girl, now clothed and much more proper looking, approached the table, Meville rose and made a flowery gesture towards the open seat. "I was not aware you had a maid in your employ. Impressive." His voice bounced with happy jest as he gave her a sly wink. Maid or no, had he undergone the same experience, he undoubtedly would not have wanted to speak of it. "I've ordered some food for the both of us, but if you have any requests, don't hesitate. It's my treat, after all."

Common | Vani

[Altaira Readva]

Bird Speak | Common | Vani | Others | oocWelcome back, by the way!

The blond man's voice was, by then, distinct enough to ring out well among the crowd, his use of common all the more to add to the ease in which she heard him. Common was her first, 'mother tongue,' as her elder sister liked to call it, though it wasn't as though she'd been able in body and willing in mind to learn it for any more than two whole seasons, the forced choice between common and Vani itself was enough to keep her silent and indecisive for weeks on end.

Learn the language that most of the world knew, or that of the special little region she was birthed to. They each had pros and cons enough for her simple mind to spurn and turn and shut down thought. In the end, it was her mother who made the choice for her. Even then, one elder sister pushed her to learn some Vani, and the other praised her and told her to keep with bird speak and common alone. "Maid," she repeated, taking her seat as she gave a cross little look at the man's flamboyant gestures. Not all humans were as weird as he was, she knew that. Perhaps it was the hair? She'd seen several with such dazzling colour, one of her elder sisters unable to resist any with a head of hair of blondes or reds and oranges. Well, she'd met an orange haired person before. He was pretty crazy, too. It was in his own way, though. Different to the blond man before her.

'Food? Right. Good.' She shook her head at the question of special requests, sitting herself taller in her chair as she sought a position both comfortable and watchful. A moment more passed, and a flurry of chatter in her mind came and went - birdspeak a far quicker and more succinct manner of thought - before she caught up and then replayed the event in her mind, going back to answer, or rather further comment on, a question and statement already said and done.

"Brother's friend," she said, settling with the cloak close to her. "Messy one, actually," she continued on, murmuring more to herself as she keenly recalled the state of the woman's room the last time Willem had snuck her into Frostfaun's Arvintha, and relating it to the blonde man's own few words. "Better her than him, he's-" she let her mouth gap for a moment, shooting the blond man a stiff look. "What's your name?" A frown passed her expression, soon to become a look oddly common to her features, and she debated giving a human greeting, deciding against it as she realised the many ways in which such could be done. She didn't like decisions that didn't seem clear to her. "Altaira." She gave a small smile, if only out of courtesy, before feeling the need to elaborate. "That's mine."

[Meville Brightshade]

With the unspoken gesture that she wanted nothing extra than what he'd ordered, Meville nodded, settling down into his chair as he let himself relax. As always, it was a relief to be out of the bone-chilling cold of Avanthal. The comfortable warmth of the tavern with its buzz and hum of it patrons was a welcome sanctuary from the chilly outdoors. The bird-Kelvic seemed to share the same appreciation, if only by her physicality. She seemed much more agreeable, though she still eyed him with that same avian suspicion.

He watched her translate in her head, a face he knew all too well. When she did speak, it took a few ticks before he realized what she was talking about. Chuckling to himself, Meville just shook his head at the statement. It certainly didn't do to have a messy maid around, that was certain. She was quite birdlike in her speech and actions, stopping herself mid sentence to address the usual problem of two strangers not knowing the other's name. For a moment, she hesitated before sharing her own name after inquiring for his own. Not one to be so rude as to not reply in kind, Meville offered her his own perpetual grin, "A pleasure, Altaira. A fitting name for one such as yourself, don't you think?" He winked, "And I am Meville. Not quite as clever as your own, but it suits me well enough."

As he was introducing himself, the server returned with another mug of ale and two plates containing the pungent fish and a side of seaweed salad. Placing the food onto the table, the man idled for a moment as Meville slipped the payment into his hands before rushing off elsewhere. Taking a swig of ale, Meville eyed Altaira. Setting down the mug, Meville lifted the fork that had come along with the plate of food, playfully stabbing at the pickled fish. "Do you aspire to be part of the Icewatch, Altaira? Or do you simply have the moral heart of a true vigilante?"

Common | Vani

[Altaira Readva]

Bird Speak | Common | Vani | Others

Meville. She turned the name around in her mind some, not quite sure how she placed it. Did she like it? Or did she think it odd? Names were such a fun little thing, and in the case of her own, neither permanent nor binding. To change one's name upon bonding was a regular occurrence, and she thought of 'Altaira' as a placeholder of sorts, given it's 'fitting'-ness, as Meville had called it, as the perfect name to bear until she reached maturity, and her disposition and temperament developed far more than the mere being of a bird-kelvic.

"Meville. Mev-ille, Me-ville," She played on the stressing of syllables for a moment, musing to herself in her own little world before she was willing to drop the subject and move on with the next, and even then - she did not do so with out a short tilt and the wrinkling of her nose, deciding that the blonde man was right. Now that the name had been placed in her mind, there was little, save for 'blondie,' which she found only slightly less fitting.

"I'm no polar bear," was her response, incredulous of the insinuation, her confusion to the question displayed blatantly as she pressed her lips and mustered up the courage to take hunk of the meal set out, finding her mind worked surprisingly well when there was food to focus and munch on.

"Family is with the ice watch," She kept her sentences simple, still not quite fluent in common. "They raised me, I think that's the right word, well." She took a rather large bite, then, self righteous as she was. "As far as I know, at least," She added, further pleased with herself as she realised that what she was having could be classed as a 'grown-ups' conversation. "We're different - kelvics grow fast," she wasn't sure if her words were common knowledge, indeed they were, but she reveled in taking a place where she felt more knowledgeable than another, her kin renowned for their ignorance.

[Meville Brightshade]

While he wasn't entirely surprised at how Altaira behaved, Meville found her clipped sentences and fast paced focus to be so birdlike, it was almost distracting. Meville hadn't fraternized much with Kelvics of any breed. They were an unnerving species, and while the rest of Avanthal seemed to enjoy them alongside the rest of the humanoid populace, Meville tended to shy away from them. They were, after all, animals, and animals weren't on the top of is list of favorite things. However, all his preconceived notions regarding the race had been based solely upon his own biases, not founded upon any sort of fact or experience save the distasteful ones he'd had with the beasts of nature. Altaira seemed respectable enough. Her childlike features seemed to belong to that of a younger adolescent, but her actual age, as Meville had been told about Kelvics, was either smaller or larger than what she appeared. He hoped it was the prior.

Her reply regarding his question of whether she wished to join the Icewatch was met with a fish filled snort as Meville attempted to both swallow and laugh at the same time. Vigorously rubbing his nose and blinking back a little bit of moisture from his eyes, Meville managed to force the food down his throat before offering Altaira, "You're certainly not!" His grin had settled down to a comfortable curve as he shook his head, cutting off another piece of fish and gathering up some seaweed to go with it.

Her next tid-bit of information was more of an answer than her first, which helped Meville continue to form the tentative mind-map of the young girl sitting before him. If she had been raised by those of the Icewatch, it would certainly explain why she might stop him from committing a crime. As far as he was aware, law and morality weren't all that important to birds, so the influence had to have come from some where else. Unless birds actually were seekers of justice, which would certainly come as a surprise to more than just Meville.

She seemed entirely in her element, perched upon her chair with a bird-like posture, delving into her food with a semi-refined gusto, and smiling smugly at Meville as she graced him with her conversational presence. The last bit she offered confirmed that Kelvics were typically younger than they appeared. Useful information to which Meville raised a brow at. Now that he thought about it, it seemed logical. Animals typically had shorter life spans and well- "I see. So your kind can both change forms and age at a more rapid pace?" He nodded, more to himself than as an acknowledgement to his companion as he took another drink of his ale. "Forgive me if I'm being too nosy, but is there anything else particularly intriguing about your race? I can't say I'm all that familiar with Kelvics. It's not every day I get to sit down to a meal with someone as knowledgeable on the race as one of its own members, you know."

As she seemed to not be entirely fluent in Common, Meville had adapted a slower, drifting sort of tempo while still maintaining his usual vocabulary. He understood she had to translate, but he was only going to go as far as slowing down. The majority of the Vantha didn't dumb down their speech when they spoke to him, so he saw no reason to do it to Altaira, as it was not only demeaning, but also condescending to assume she could only understand that most simple of words. Within the context of most Common sentences, the definition of words could be, more or less, assumed as long as they weren't the key part of the statements. Altaira seemed to be doing well enough. "For example..." Meville whirled his fork in the air, making a circular gesture. "Do you have avian vision? Or perhaps a sharper sense of hearing?"

Meville's knowledge of Kelvics was about as extensive as his knowledge of the Jamoura: they existed.

Common | Vani

[Altaira Readva]

Bird Speak | Common | Vani | Others | oocI feel like Meville probably isn't the best person for Altaira to use to build her WWHD (What Would Humans Do?) mentality XD

With her stomach well on it's way to being wholly and fully satisfied, the young kelvic had patience enough to entertain the questions thrown at her. At least he wasn't treating her as though she only had half a brain, that was something not too common. Though, she found it odd enough that one in Avanthal, of all places, knew little of her kind.

There were several ticks when she went to speak, to give some short, verbal assurance that Meville was correct in his words, a frown taking to her expression as she noted him do so himself, a strange spark of approval hitting her as she noted the action.

Brought up to be as human as possible, it gave her some odd little pride when she saw humans act in a way that she knew herself was prone to.

That being said, such occurrences were few; the greatest downfall in her attempts to be a little more human in her actions and thoughts, was how intently she observed people. And people, it seemed, didn't like it. Meville, with his blonde hair and common tongue, didn't seem to mind too much. Or at least, not to the extent at which he made comment to the strange little looks she assumed she was giving him. Where all non-Vantha humans like that?

"My sight is a bit better, hearing not so much. More... sensitive, I guess. Sometimes good, sometimes bad. Bright light too fast is painful, some problem... sou-" She pressed her lips and glared at the fish, using the cutlery to the best of her ability to hack off another little piece as she thought for the word that played at the tip of her tongue.

She was fine enough at common, rather splendid for her age, but that didn't mean all terms and words in birdspeak yet had a proper translation in any of the human tongues she knew. "S-Fr-Frequencies?" The word sounded right enough, and after another short few ticks of intense internal debate, she gave a shrug and pressed on with her words. "Problem frequencies. Not too bad."

It was always strange when she put voice to such little things. In all her seasons of life, she'd been told that she was this and that, given no real proof or reason. She was to take whoever's word on it, and accept it as true. "Depends on the person, though, what their species is," she gave the blond haired boy another hard look, before the salt on her lips had her reach for a drink, expression not at all thrilled by the taste of it. "Older brothers and sisters have sharp teeth. Or at least sharper teeth. They're all predators. Some kelvics just look wholly human. Otherwise, normal in looks."

She tried to guess at the expression that the human wore, pausing for a moment in short mediation as she considered what needed to be said, and what didn't. "Like our parents. We look like our parents," It wasn't a statement particularly necessary, but when her thoughts hit her sister Sade, and her rather not-at-all Vantha traits, she thought such a short statement could be of use. Some people seemed to be of the belief that the colour of one's fur was the same as their skin or hair, as though Altaira's green plumage meant that she herself was the colour of grass and leaves.

[Meville Brightshade]

Meville found the Kelvic to be something similar to his own self. It was almost like looking into a bird tinted mirror, her eyes flicking from one feature of his face to next as the visual information was processed and stored for later use if need be. Her analytic appraisal of her environment, however birdlike, was something the two of them shared, at least currently. Meville wasn't apt to be on high alert at all times, and though he had taken plenty of time gazing at the young girl before him, the rest of the room's details were nothing more than shapes, sounds, and muddy colors. She, however, seemed to be interested in it all, though her focus was clearly the man she was speaking to.

Grinning as she floundered for the proper word, Meville let her struggle continue until she found the closest thing to it. During that time, the majority of his fish and all his seaweed disappeared into his now happy stomach, washed down with a few swigs of ale. What she ended up deciding upon was a much more abstract word than "sounds". Shaking his head at the strange girl, Meville chuckled as she continued on, apparently undaunted by the barrier of language. As she continued on with her explanation, Meville could only continuing smiling at her confident, stumbling words. It was certainly strange to be on the other end of the language barrier, and Meville quite enjoyed it. He could understand both word and concept, something that he often found to be lacking in his interaction with the Vantha. Perhaps it was high time he started working in earnest to learn their language.

Her comment about her siblings' sharp teeth was a tad bit unnerving. Meville could only imagine razor fanged, hunched humanoids with fiery eyes and an insatiable blood lust. He much preferred the relatively harmless Ataira, though he kept his thoughts to himself on the matter. Her final statement held almost as much of her peculiar matter-of-fact tone than everything that had come before. While Meville figured that was something of the case, he supposed it was a bit of interesting information, as from the sounds of things her siblings were all sorts of different animals. Strange that Kelvics from the same family could come in different forms, though not entirely unwarranted. After all, there were plenty of Vantha that looked very different from their siblings.

"Hmm..." He nodded, assuring her he'd been listening as he'd kept most verbal responses to a minimum. His lips, while curled into a slight grin, were pressed together as he thought. It seemed Kelvics were far more human than he'd imagined. Their thought process, at least on the model of Altaira, was remarkably similar to his own, if only slightly more clipped due to her avian heritage. "So, in essence, you're as human as a Vantha or mysel with a few quirks here and there?" He shook his head, a jolly disbelief on his features as he pet the last bit of fish on his plate with his fork, holding the handle gently between pointer finger and thumb. "I'm certainly a bit taken aback. Our races are not nearly as different as I had imagined." He laughed then, slipping the fish into his mouth at the end of his mirth, chewing thoughtfully, and swallowing as his bright eyes appraised the girl in front of him.

"As I'm sure you've already gathered, I'm not entirely well versed on the proper social customs of conversation when addressing a Kelvic, though I suppose I can apply the basic rules of Common's interactions rather effectively." He paused, chewing on the tines of his fork as he thought how best to phrase his next question. "Out of curiosity, exactly how old are you? You seem rather mature for your size, if you don't mind me saying so." The compliment had been more of a nicety than a truly sincere statement, though he presented it as the latter. Altaira seemed to be the sort of creature that basked in the praise of others, so there was no reason not to employ it when speaking to her.


_________________

OOC :

Hahaha Yes. Meville is anything but normal. xD

Common | Vani

[Altaira Readva]

Bird Speak | Common | Vani | Others

What differences had he expected, Altaira wondered, her stare sharp and expression hard as all the so called 'unpleasant' traits of her kind bubbled to mind. If she was something big or frightful, she'd have understood the expectation, but what took her aback further still was to hear him claim that there seemed to be little differences between their kind as whole.

Altaira’s own older siblings were sometimes enough to make her wary of her own kin, the same blood running through their veins wasn't always enough to keep her calm and trusting when she caught sight of a red muzzle and the unmistakable stench of rotting flesh, or a low growl or hiss coming with the bearing of teeth. That was without mention of the times when she genuinely believed her feline sister acted with every intention to swallow her whole in the thick of their worst arguments. Fear and wariness of that, she could understand to a certain extent. Though she could not vouch for the greater part of her fellow kelvics, those she knew of were not man eaters, and strived to their best capabilities to be as much ‘human’ as could be managed.

The greatest difference between their kind, she thought, was that even under such pretence, every one of her kin had their own set of instincts, whether they would take fight or flight, seek a single mate and settle for life or only find on once in a blue moon, to keep closer and more protective of brother or son or father. A kelvic’s inherent urgers were not hard to figure, nor were they easily swayed or changed.

Humans, on the other hand. Humans scared her sometimes.

Her stare on Meville’s features eased slightly, stomach filled quite enough that she had no mind in the absence of food on the plate, the human’s own question and word of flattery turning her attentions to the more playful game of guess-the-age as she fruitlessly put off thought of something she found most vile.

Mathematics.

“Two…” she trailed, brown furrowing and lips pursed awkwardly as she struggled to finish her thought. “Three? Two to three seasons. Born late spring,” she gave him another sweeping look, tilting her head as she tried to decide where he was in relation to her own brothers and sisters. “My brother,” she began, going for another swig of drink before she quite realised her error, and how open to interpretation she'd left her words. “Twin, younger by few chimes. Closer to you than me in…”

Her gesture went to the whole of her, then the same to the human as she found herself a little caught on the word. “Growth.” She edged awkwardly on her seat, leaning in further a little as she parroted the question in hushed tones. "And you? How old? Decades? Yet married?" She leaned back for a moment, mediating on her words before deeming the addition of context necessary. "People are talking of marriage to my brother. Say he's growing quick, so such talk and thought must begin soon for him."