Moonspear beating wings they whisper, a baby's breath

arcturus was still studying the gilded hilt of the male's fur; how brilliant it seemed in comparison to his drab and dark features -- a vial of sunlight given corpeal form, interrupted only by the sweep of deep-sea navy eyes. arcturus did not know what a sea was, but he knew that color - it was the color of his family, of his father's stern gaze. wrongfully, the cub simply assumed this aurelian stranger was kin.

he didn't have much a repertoire besides 'hi', and glumly looked about him as the male spoke with the fluency of a creature well acquainted with conversation. he splashed the water and noted the ridges sullenly -- up until the male requested a name.

a name arcturus could do, for he was conditioned well to answer -- but not without fumbling. "arct--arcturus." the small boy resonated, his tongue thick and heavy against the roof of his mouth.