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 She is coming down the rocky slope when she spots a lone figure far off, she watches him, pausing her footsteps and letting her still body meld into the landscape (not magically, figuratively). She breaths quietly and far apart while she watches him hover over a bloody lump, sticking his horn into it and then emerging into the cold waves to wash away the blood. She cannot be sure of what she sees because of the distance, but morbid curiosity draws her cautiously down the hillside. She moves with painful ease, like a cat on high alert. Her eyes are opened wide and her ears picking every signal from the atmosphere around her. She finds a shadowy nook to watch him and by now he’s ripping mouthfuls of from the body and stuffing them in his tail – she isn’t horrified, only intrigued, something that slightly alarms her little bit, deep inside. It appears to be feathers. She quirks her face with puzzlement at this strange and probably dangerous unicorns’ behavior, but it doesn’t stop her from launching into a lope down the ledgeside to catch up with him as he walks down the beach. She is young and inquisitive – perhaps too much of both to be truly on her own, but it’s been like that forever now and she cannot help but push any limits anyone may want to give her. She finds the whole thing so stimulating and she must know more. Why in the hell is he acting like that? Who is he? … Is he scary…?, she lets her mind spin itself into a small tizzy. It happens all the time, meanwhile she still looks as if she might even be dimwitted; being of few words and giving strange looks all the time. She can actually be a chatter-box when she is not bored, offended, intimidated or anxious – basically never. But hey. Sometimes. “Hey,” She talks through a shallow breath, purring along as she slows to a trot and then matches whatever pace he’s making across the vast wet sands. “What was that all about?” She doesn’t really look at his face, only stealing quick glimpses as she moves along beside him. She is rather unshy with her questioning; figuring if he’s a psycho-face then being polite won’t really help either so why not die with some answers…right? CARS CAREENING FROM THE CLOUDS BRIDGES BURST AND TWIST AROUND.. AND WANTING SOMETHING WARM AND MOVING |
- You may use violence and magic against her at will, but no death.
- Please tag me so I don't forget anyone(:
