Except...what is this feeling? He's not weak, or the sympathetic type. He wasn't raised that way. Ever since he was a dragonet, he'd been raised out of such weak mannerisms. Disallowed so much that his edges hardened as sure as his scales. He was an ice-hearted hunter, the fastest and strongest of the youngbloods in the pod.
So then...what is this feeling?
He growls, the sound bubbling up from his curled lips. Gozaburo would call it weakness. The weakness of his line. But somehow...Seto could bear to watch this idiot drown. He looks ready to pass out, and it's only once the human's eyes slip shut and he starts to slip into unconsciousness that the dragon, regretting every single decision in his life that led up to this moment, snags the human by the shirt and propels himself to shore, growling and bellyaching the entire time.
The human will live to see another day. Seto unfortunately made sure of it, though he won't linger too long to figure that out.
He does linger for a while though, waiting to see if the human would clear his lungs of water and manage to survive. In that short time, as his scales dry, his form begins to melt back into a poor facsimile of a human, albeit with finlike ears and slit-pupiled eyes with glowing markings on each cheek. Soaked brown hair frames his features, severe as they are with that scowl he's wearing.
He can't see himself. He doesn't know, or care, what he looks like. But if he did, he'd probably be fine with it. His dragon strength carries over in this sinuous half-human form with not a stitch of fat out of place. Sea dragons were not blubbery, like selkies, a distant, very distant relation of the water tribes. Instead they tended towards stocky power.
Seto was even an exception to that, with his lithe form, humanoid or otherwise. Not that this human would ever know.
no subject
He's dying. Seto will watch, to be sure.
Except...what is this feeling? He's not weak, or the sympathetic type. He wasn't raised that way. Ever since he was a dragonet, he'd been raised out of such weak mannerisms. Disallowed so much that his edges hardened as sure as his scales. He was an ice-hearted hunter, the fastest and strongest of the youngbloods in the pod.
So then...what is this feeling?
He growls, the sound bubbling up from his curled lips. Gozaburo would call it weakness. The weakness of his line. But somehow...Seto could bear to watch this idiot drown. He looks ready to pass out, and it's only once the human's eyes slip shut and he starts to slip into unconsciousness that the dragon, regretting every single decision in his life that led up to this moment, snags the human by the shirt and propels himself to shore, growling and bellyaching the entire time.
The human will live to see another day. Seto unfortunately made sure of it, though he won't linger too long to figure that out.
He does linger for a while though, waiting to see if the human would clear his lungs of water and manage to survive. In that short time, as his scales dry, his form begins to melt back into a poor facsimile of a human, albeit with finlike ears and slit-pupiled eyes with glowing markings on each cheek. Soaked brown hair frames his features, severe as they are with that scowl he's wearing.
He can't see himself. He doesn't know, or care, what he looks like. But if he did, he'd probably be fine with it. His dragon strength carries over in this sinuous half-human form with not a stitch of fat out of place. Sea dragons were not blubbery, like selkies, a distant, very distant relation of the water tribes. Instead they tended towards stocky power.
Seto was even an exception to that, with his lithe form, humanoid or otherwise. Not that this human would ever know.