(Untitled)

[thanoodles]

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[willbereborn]

[ Oh, ruins. Her home - not home, but where she comes from - is full of them, out of reach, but not of hers. She can fly and rest in the ruins, they offer haven from the yellow eyed man, at least until the bells chime. So she's comfortable inside them. She can't get lost if she has nowhere to go, so she's not worried at all, the baby phoenix isn't. She's sitting on the broken staircase that leads to a deep body of water, probably due to the rains of the years. She's dropping pebbles inside it, watching the ripples with a curious smile. ]

.-. he tells me he wants to say hello

[burningpath]

[He says nothing when he crouches down beside her. But does he need to when he burns with the heat of the sun.]

d-don't break her

[willbereborn]

[ And she's not startled by his presence exactly because of the burning warmth that surrounds him. She does look, curious baby bird, and blinks her big yellow eyes, tilting her head curiously, like a birdy twitch. ]

Hello, hello. [ A chirp, a smile. ]

[burningpath]

[He looks back at her with his piercing blue eyes, diseased sickly looking things in his gaunt face.]

Hello, firebird. How does life treat you.

[willbereborn]

[ Oh, he knows what she is, does he? She offers him a brighter smile, though still shy, not unsure - warmth makes her trust and she has not learn the contrary yet. She nods, a little hum. ]

I fare well, yes, been fine, without the bells, flying and dancing and singing. [ A pause. ] Who are you, warm thing, who?

[burningpath]

[His gaze drifts off absentmindedly.]

The Burning Path bids you welcome.

[willbereborn]

Thank you, thank you, yes, is this your home, maybe?

[ She inches just a little near, curious, and eager to feel his warmth closer. ]

[burningpath]

[He is silent at first, as he often is.]

No. My home is endless flame.

[willbereborn]

[ Her curiosity heightens. Timidly, her fingertips brush against his hair, loving the fire colour, the warmth. ]

Then I, too, am your home, is it, I am a bird of fire, a red bird, the phoenix, reborn, rebirth.

[burningpath]

[Quiet, unresponsive to her questing fingers.]

Yes. Summer's eyes recognize you, child.

[willbereborn]

[ She doesn't mind him being so quiet, not really, though it's strange to her for all of the warm creatures she's met, they're usually nice, welcoming to her. He's not mean at all, no, but there's something about him that the baby bird cannot put her fingers on. ]

Do you know where we are, Burning Path, Summer man, do you?

[burningpath]

[He looks upwards. Yes, he knows, but that is not what he says.]

There is too much water.

[And so it is not a place of his, and so it does not matter.]

[willbereborn]

[ She blinks, before tilting her head down to the water below. She drops a couple of pebbles again to it, before leaning her head against his arm, enjoying the warmth. ]

Water can be fun, for playing, to swim, too.

[burningpath]

[He exhales, fire rippling out from him, water steaming, plants curling to ash. No. Water is not fun.]

[willbereborn]

[ Fire brings no harm to her, not even in this form of hers, she isn't scared by it nor by its sudden appearance, though she does seem a littl sad, a small noise leaving her throat as the water extinguishes, the plants die - they are life, magic itself travels through them too. She looks up at him, a frowny expression upon her face. ]

Why, why? [ She chirps, almost as if worried. ]

[burningpath]

[He looks at her, not really seeing. A very faint expression of distaste touches him mouth.]

Silence, firebird.