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03-06-2014, 03:02 PM
 Sunlight glittered and glared off the raging ocean below; the bright waves, shattering the light over sapphire and azure, stormed with an incomparable power. She would not want to be down there fighting it, with it's cold wet mouth and dripping hands, foamy lips and heaving chest; in any case, how could one battle the sea? It was vast, unknowably vast, and it hid whole worlds away, countries separate and far from Helovia and Isilme— she wondered, what would it be like if she could plunge into those depths, dive below the surface and explore the endless shades of navy, emerald and turquoise? But why would she do that, when she has the entire sky to adventure through, with a landscape shaped with clouds and invisible winds that would as soon snatch her away as return her home? And I would have to have gills instead of wings! The Ardent's daughter smiles. There is nothing like a brisk flight to make her grin. Endless wings shift, infinitely small movements done to primary and secondary to scoop the wind beneath her, to rest herself on a bed made of air; her leonine tail rudders, as she pivots around a wing-tip, the beach spread out below her. Ebon appendages lift, tips flaring together before she downstrokes, powering upwards, ever-higher, a bird on the thermals above the sea— yet where one seagull flocks, others follow. On the horizon line, making way from inland, is rust and shadow, scarlet and cream; the silhouette marks him- or perhaps her- as undeniably pegasus. Wings beat, driving her forward, moving to meet him, to share in this beautiful day; to laugh and smile and grin. As she approaches, his voice shouts out, carrying over turbulence and wild sky, sharp in her ears, a demand of her. Ears pin to neck; she lets the wind, behind her, carry her forwards, pulling up and away from him when she reaches twenty or twenty-five meters ahead of him. Wheeling above him, dark as shadow against the wide, wide yonder, she shouts out her answer; "Eeluza!" It's a lie, a little one, simply her name backwards, but why should she share in her title when he screams out so rude? azulee the grave looks cold, but we're still young |
hard mode—HP: 65/65
physical force and magic is permitted to be used on Azulee at any time provided it does not involve powerplay (unless specified otherwise); please contact me before attempting to kill.
please tag me!
