Mewness
First Post
When it is Scarmiglione's turn to bathe, he plunges in and submerges completely, staying under for what seems like a long time. Golden liquid streams from his open beak as he emerges, almost as though he has been trying to breathe the stuff. A number of his feathers have become completely golden. (Fortunately, the effect seems confined to his neck, throat, and the back of his head; were there any such feathers lower down on his body, he would scarcely be able to restrain himself from admiring their shiny golden surfaces constantly.)
"A goddess who speaks of sacrifice, but gives more than she takes," he says, startling everyone after his long silence. His voice has lost its earlier raggedness and somehow become more pleasing and resonant than ever. "You truly must be the scion of some lost godly dynasty. I thank you, lady, even if you have saved my life only so that I might continue on this absurd and depressing expedition." He bows gracefully to the pool. "What is your name?--Or how may we know you?"
"A goddess who speaks of sacrifice, but gives more than she takes," he says, startling everyone after his long silence. His voice has lost its earlier raggedness and somehow become more pleasing and resonant than ever. "You truly must be the scion of some lost godly dynasty. I thank you, lady, even if you have saved my life only so that I might continue on this absurd and depressing expedition." He bows gracefully to the pool. "What is your name?--Or how may we know you?"