In the harsh glare of daylight, Chasm found himself on a journey.  Never one to slink in the shadows as if not belonging, this kimeti wore his glowing ass with pride. Cubbed ears or not, he was an inky spot with bright red. A target on his own back with the weight of the world on his shoulders. And what a reckless dolt he was. While the mood after the lifting of winter was celebratory in nature, perhaps Chasm had a bit too much fun. A wicked grin pasted on, he replayed the more fun parts before mentally shrugging on his serious game face. He was on a journey and he was looking for anyone or anything that would help. With his luck, the great Mares and Stags would also be a little stir crazy from being cooped up in winter. Wouldn't it be grand if he found one? Responsibility was a tight fit for his frame, but one that would loosen up the more he got on with it. And there was very little he wouldn't do for that doe.

Whistling loud and clear to attract others and ward off would be carnivorous, territorial beings, Chasm continued down the meadow path ears twitching for any scraping of leaf or sound of steps.

[imgright]https://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/imag ... ncert4.png[/imgright]Want and need were two very different things. He might have wanted a Legendary; maybe, he should have been more precise.

The shallowness preferred water to glide upon, the sky to fly in, because walking as a swan put her into a predicament of potentially looking like an utter fool. It was nearly impossible to have a graceful gait as a swan and so she was not pleased when she found her attempt at it ruined by a squelch of mud. Ugh. She'd never imagined that ascending has growing pains, too.

She gave her feathered body a shake, felt the irritation pop, and then let her feathers settle into serenity. Non-agitation, really. She breathed in, breathed out, then began her strut again. Gods, she hoped they didn't have meetings, she'd never hear the end of laughter if she strutted into a Legendary meeting like this. Thankfully, no one was--fuck.

Atone froze, eyes narrowing at the buck who was intruding on her practice session. With little to lose, she straightened and lifted her wings and let out the mightiest honk and then ran at him. Swans could be bastards, too.

Oh MotherFather.

Of all things, an irate muddy swan coming at him topped the most absurd thing to ever happen to him both in the waking world and dreams. He didn't know what to do. He liked to blame the sore muscles on being cooped up in winter or other activities but that was neither here nor there.

He was in danger

And there was no reasoning with a feral bird as such.

Come to think of it, he didn't see swans outside of the water much and now it made so much sense. Running for his life, he turned to pivot in the other direction but fell ass up in to the mud. He yelped in indignation and fear. There was no way he could scramble away before that honking beak pecked at him.

He tried to yell for help but what came out of his strangled mud-filled mouth was utter nonsense. "COCONUT."

The swan stops, bewilderment running through her, before she lowers her wings. There is a split moment of indecision and then, because it's the smart thing to do, she changes into a mare to keep the power in this encounter. She stares down at him, sighs.

"I hope your children won't be as cowardly as you, dear," she says, a bit too sweet and syrupy to be completely sincere. Cowards are easier to deal with, after all.

His mouth opened. He gaped like a dying fish. Many emotions flitted across his face-- familiar anger, swell indignation or even haughty pride. But you catch more flights or legendaries with honey than putrid swamp water and attitude. There was no way to salvage this inelegant encounter. From muddy bird to swan, it was quite the transformation. He was so besotted that he almost missed the insult. Cowardly? Maybe, but he liked to frame it as survival skills.

"My brood? Will they be mighty warriors and fair maidens as well?" He might as well push for more. He was already in mud and his pride was shattered. Why of all things did he scream coconut!? Hopefully no one else was near.

Atone scoffs, rolling her eyes and flicking her head up towards the heavens as if to consult and commiserate with the MotherFather. She stays like this a moment, mostly biting her own tongue, before she returns her gaze to him. She seems to have invented a look that seems unbothered and pissed off as the same time. There is a moment of regret: she should have chosen something with teeth.

"And who would they learn that from?" she volleys, unimpressed. She shakes her head at the thought and takes a step closer, not quite menacing but not unfrightening by any means.

"Fairness and might are subjective. Do you think their obstacles require strength or wit? The latter doesn't seem likely to be strong in you, does it?" she smiled.

Whoa, she had him there. "But brood are a chance to be better, to be more than their predecessors. They are our future." He tried one last gambit. His genes were poor and his personality was lacking as the Mare stated. He wanted to give them the best chances they could receive.

@anemosagkelos

"You are insulting. Do you really think I would punish them for your mistakes?" she snorted, laughing at the idea. Oh, no, she would make them better—she would give them a greater than fighting chance since they would derive no knowledge from the buck himself. "You must have something going for you, though I don't know what, if a doe is willing," because she knew if it was not willing, she'd have killed him already. She had limits and choices taken from others was one of them.

"Your children will thrive in life; they will be well-rounded with physical strength, mental strength, wit, and kindness. They will teach you to better yourself and, in turn, you will inspire them to never settle for less than what they deserve." That would do, she thought, as she let it hang in the air.

She didn't give him the chance to ruin it. She seemed to jump and then the wings of a swan fluttered as she rose into the air.