9/18/2025, 4:47 PM
![[Image: cupid-chirpeax.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/wj8G0kHm/cupid-chirpeax.png)
Skjoldrheim's little dove was far too aware of the worries and pain that came with children spreading their wings. His dislike of the twins did not mean he hoped they came to harm, and did not mean he didn't sympathize with the paternal concerns that weighed on his Skorungr's handsome crown.
Tyr had crossed to the mainland. Cupid wasn't sure why, but he suspected it had something to do with the absence of whispered schemes and fiendish snarls that tended to drift on the breeze through the islands when the boys were home.
Cupid's paws carried him down to the shore, settling just out of reach of the waves then curling his tail around himself. He couldn't put his paw on why he was willing to sit and wait on the sand like a maiden pining after a sailor today; surely there were other tasks to busy himself with.
Instead, Cupid's head bowed slightly as he reached a paw out and toyed with a seas he felt beneath one of his paw pads, feeling out the ridges and curves to determine the shape.
Perhaps a sign from Aphrodite. Maybe he was on the right path, after all.
