❛ .. Huh? ❜
█▐ ❆ ࿐ᐤ HIS BREATH WISPED upwards before dispersing in the white fog. He gazed upon Lyon’s young apprentice as snow fell down around them, dressing their hair in glittering crystals. The juvenility in Shouto’s voice did not go amiss.
It was still surreal to see Lyon adopting a student at one point in his journey. Gray honestly believed that Lyon had chosen a pupil who reminded him of himself — a lost child with emptiness in his heart but DETERMINATION in his eyes.
And it was still surreal to see Lyon fostered this child, took him under his wings &&. trained him. SAVED him. Gave him a new purpose, hope &&. future; comfort, stability —— and a home to return to.
Lyon and Gray both had SOMETHING festering inside them. Underneath their ruthless facade, underneath that stoic guise was the thrumming power of ICE — and they both wielded it under their fingertips.The two of them lived and breathed the elements, accepting the cold into their very soul.
But it was Lyon that emulated Ur &&. pass on her teachings.
And in the hope which burns his very heart, in the pride which mars his very soul, in the eyes of she who has cultivated his entirety. In the eyes of their master who has shaped them. Lyon took their master teachings &&. allowed it to live on. Ice-Make is a magic of freedom; Lyon had taught Shouto a way to channel his EMOTIONS through the very magic that saved them both. He taught Shouto to shape those whirrling sentiments into something physical and beautiful…
&&. Gray couldn’t be more PROUD of Lyon,
his fellow disciple.
A proudness he may never voice; a proudness that he will likely keep within his chest. Like shards lodged hidden beneath its folds, unbound and unleashed. This was the proudness he felt watching Shouto GROWING each day in strength &&. in skill. It was a proudness he felt when he looked upon Lyon and Shouto ——
He finds himself in a smile.
❛ —- Sure, kid. ❜
A PREMATURE GRIN , brittle &&. breakable, unveiled itself upon his rugged visage. Gray squandered no time at all to spawn a snowball and lug it with admittedly bad aim — but he managed to strike Shouto’s shoulder pretty near damn well. It was good enough for him to BOLT across the frozen road; his laughter trickled away like water upon mountain ledges dissipating beneath the solidity of the earth.
( Gentle and lush, cold to the touch; powdery heavenly beauty. Today the snow was SPARKLING like a million little suns. )
❛ A’right, come at me with all ya got
&&. make your master proud! ❜
