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Aurin holds his mother's hand as she leads him from the street to his aunt and uncle's house. He's been here only a couple of times, and can't remember most of them distinctly; they're sort of awkwardly related, his dead father's half-brother and the wife thereof. But now they have a baby parunia, and that means there is a dragon related to Aurin who is not too far from his age, only thirty-one years younger. This is apparently the sort of relation that it will be particularly enriching for Aurin to meet. They can do this now instead of waiting a month, because parunias don't die when they're babies; this one is safe, unlike the miscellaneous cousins on his mother's side he's never met because they are all in too much danger to get attached to (and have all succumbed to that danger). So here they are. Even though it was a very long flight and he couldn't ride his mother for takeoff and landing when she had to be a heron, only for the middle part.
Alys knocks on the door.
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"Okay. It's good that it doesn't make you sad."
Mial nods. "I don't like being sad."
"It's no fun."
"Yeah."
He plops his head onto Aurin's shoulder and shivers a little.
He plops his head onto Aurin's shoulder and shivers a little.
Pet pet.
"You need to be polished," Aurin remarks.
"You need to be polished," Aurin remarks.
"I just was though," he objects. "Last... last... something." He twists around to inspect his own scales. "Okay, maybe I need to be polished a little bit."
"Yeah, you have tarnish there, and there, and there -" Poke poke poke. "I don't ever need to be polished."
"Why not?"
"Golds don't. Gold doesn't do the thing. I don't tarnish or patina or rust or do spelters do a thing I forget - Mom?"
"Spelters do not," says Alys, "although when their scales come off, those do."
"Spelters do not," says Alys, "although when their scales come off, those do."
"I bet you're shiny!" says Mial. "Do you have pictures?"
"I had to sit for a portrait," groans Aurin. "I dunno, Mom, do you have a copy?"
"I do, actually," says Alys, and she produces a picture of shiny gold Aurin, posed sitting up on his haunches with his wings spread, looking up at the ceiling, in profile.
"I do, actually," says Alys, and she produces a picture of shiny gold Aurin, posed sitting up on his haunches with his wings spread, looking up at the ceiling, in profile.
"Aww you're pretty," Mial declares. He snuggles his cousin some more.
"It was so boring. It took angles and angles and angles."
"I bet. Mom and Dad tried to get me to do that but I ran away and hid under the bed," Mial says smugly.
"There wasn't a bed there. It was at a studio thing. There was nowhere to go," mourns Aurin.
"They can't bring me to studio things cause I'm a shren! Maybe it's good for something after all," he snickers. "Ha, I can run away from portraits and you can't."
Pet, pet.
"But Mial," says Alys, "then there won't be any pictures of you."
"But Mial," says Alys, "then there won't be any pictures of you."
"I don't care," he says. "I don't want pictures of me if it means having to sit still and be bored for angles."
"It didn't actually take as long as Aurin says," she remarks. "Some artists can do them very quickly."
"But they can't make it not boring," Mial says irrefutably.
"Maybe one of your parents could read to you while you were sitting," suggests Alys.
"You didn't read to me," says Aurin accusingly.
"The studio had a musician there to keep the sitters entertained, Aurin."
"You didn't read to me," says Aurin accusingly.
"The studio had a musician there to keep the sitters entertained, Aurin."
"Well obviously the musician didn't work," says Mial.
"And, and she took a break in the middle! She was gone for like half of it."
"She was gone for ten degrees to eat lunch, Aurin."
"It was too long."
"She was gone for ten degrees to eat lunch, Aurin."
"It was too long."
"Next time you make Aurin sit for a portrait, you should read to him," Mial instructs. "If you don't want to I'll, I'll send Mom to read to him."
"It will be a few years before I'll want another batch. And since his eagle form isn't going to grow, that one can wait until he is more mature," says Alys.
Aurin grumbles.
Aurin grumbles.