FIGHT OR FLIGHT // new body

"they flip the siren, hit the lights" ✭ ── Angelembrace's opinion on his mother was...complicated. Obviously, yes, he was not a fan of her parenting style, or lack thereof, but Angel gave credit where credit was due. Aphra may have been a rather piss-poor mother, but if he could give her anything, he would have to admit that her many forms always came out rather objectively majestic, nice to look at he assumed. Perhaps he was genuine about his compliment, or perhaps he was just hoping the genetics passed down onto him.

Actually, he was in the middle of trying to desperately clean some excess mud off his fur by the time Aphra returned in a brand new form, eyes looking up as the roar beat the everloving hell out of his eardrums. She wasn't the largest dragon, though he couldn't be totally sure, he wasn't exactly an expert on dragons, but the presentation of the white and pink lead him to believe it was mostly for looks before, say, offense. "That's quite nice." Angelembrace mewed simply, lacking the usual malice or snark he often had while speaking directly to his mother. He didn't feel any need at the moment. "The pink is charming."