@stygicniron .

@stygicniron  ╱  ♡.

They did not understand the demigods need for this... “aesthetic.”  Was it some form of identifier  ??  for others who shared the same  ??  it seemed he was fond of black.  Perhaps, next time, they would bring a gift more fitting  (  some dahlia  ---  it reminded them of the younger  ).  ❝  Why is this embarrassing  ??  they are just flowers.  ❞

@lakecrown​  ╱  ♡.

Enkidu was not prone to such emotional hangups  (  no, they tended to be rather open  ).  A piece of them understanding it was born of attachment.  A small, angry portion.  It was not their place to feel such  ---  something to work on.  The issue was not their own.  Cautious eyes watch the caster from their perch on the windowsill, a tilt of the head the only acknowledgment granted  (  yes, you may approach  ).  But, then again, Merlin held a very significant importance to them.   ❝  Hmm  ??  ❞

One more, Gilgamesh and Enkidu…

(anybody remember my sketch for this over two month ago?

╰ *．  LANCELOT.

the most phantasmal curve of a smile melts into quicksilver while rifling idly through pages, half to find something suitable and the other in search of something to distract the anxiety of sharing his creative pursuits. poetry! of all things for him to indulge in whilst sorting out half-burning fearsand a most malicious guilt! yet if he understands anything of this divine being ( molded to a heavenly image, hand outstretched / entwined with baby’s breath and mono no aware ) they would not judge much less laugh at whatever faults might be found in writings by a knight-errant.

❝hah, you’re far too generous. to be truthful, I’ve not once shared my writings to anyone—even in life. verily, you would be the first; whether one might call that a privilege or a curse not even I can say for certain.❞ a mysterious jest where confidence supplants itself as a mask over bashfulness while motioning for the other to take their seat acrost the table.

❝Enkidu—that is your name, yes? it would bode ill of my pride to ever mistake a fellow comrade’s name, so please forgive me if I had pronounced it incorrectly.❞

❝  If you do not wish to share, I do not seek to push you  ---  the writings are your own, not mine.  I do not mean to sound entitled to them.  ❞  Curious gaze, a hum.  Watching the other rustle about.  It was oddly endearing; clearly, much ink had been spilled across worn pages.  Enkidu took the worried humor as a  (  hopeful  )  invitation; a welcoming even with such obvious jitters.

Smilegracing quiet laughter at the knight's nerves.  A few steps closer  ---  perching themselves on the offered chair  (  knees up to chest, arms crossed atop with chin in hand  ).  ❝  You are correct, there is no need to worry  ---  and you are Lancelot.  One of the Knights of the Round Table.  ❞  They were in no hurry.  ❝  You should not look so embarrassed.  This is something that has meaning to you, yes  ??  that alone gives it purpose.  Such sentiments would never result in a curse  !!  I am grateful for the privilege to listen.  ❞

“ it must be hard to live with what ifs. ”

the sun  &&  her flowers  ╱  accepting.

Sharp gaze falls on the ruler.  Head tilted in consideration  (  a plastered smile  ).  Enkidu was all too used to what ifs.  A being existing due to the graces of rarely benevolent gods, a construct to serve as a weapon.  They were the definition of what if.

Fingers brush back wayward hair  (  green wave obscuring eyes  ).

❝  It must be frustrating to not truly know everything.  ❞  An existence older then the other could fathom to imagine  —  understanding comes with time.  Enkidu was not prone to annoyance.  No, they were a creation of curiosity; a being of seeking answers from their own wayward distance.  They did not presume  (  why would they  ??  it was against their very nature  )  but they had experienced human fault, emotion, firsthand.  This was truly no different.  ❝  I have made peace with what the gods proclaimed.  I am but a puppet  —  if you seek what ifs perhaps ask one of your own kind.  ❞

I will sail my vessel 'Til the river runs dry Like a bird upon the wind These waters are my sky