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02-08-2015, 11:32 PM
Bucephalus had always discovered a way to ruin her solstice. The quiet, serene feeling overpowered her senses while she flooded her system into a high and dreamt across the plains. Wingbeats act as a small nuisance, expecting nothing more than a passer-by. Followed up by the healthy thump of a landing, a lazy eyelid slips atop a single eye and watches him as he approaches.
Her tired face meets him with a slow blink, awakening herself from the disrupted nirvana.
Always the one to bring something, a small creature is offered forth, moving about the ground until it was to discover the snow. A soft chuckle brings a small smile over her features as she remembers the first meeting between her and Sacre in the Steppe when she was small, frolicking through the drifts of snow without a care in the world, filled with nothing but pure bliss.
"Desert daughter?" She snorts at him with a half-hearted, teasing way that builds itself from the leftover particles of her high. "I was born and raised here; I'm visiting dead memories and ghosts. Who else would be here?" Adrixaura and Tonka wouldn't be joining her ever again, but it was nice to know that she had a place to visit them in case miracles did happen.
Rising with a slow ascent, the dipped legs tremble beneath her weight as she struggles to regain her balance. Moist snow clings to her coat, burning and igniting the reddened skin hidden by the cloak of short hair. A cringe stabs her facial features and whatever she had done to help her burns in the past seems useless.
A repositioning of her horn brings the thing that Bucephalus has brought into view. Nostrils make themselves fat with the new scent. Musk, Bucephalus, and whatever that was. A hint of wildflowers fills it but nothing too special.
"Have you another child? One think that the son I helped deliver was more than a handful already." All is meant in good will, remembering the look of the colt through a blurred memory bank. Children swarmed the herd without warning, and while she had recently held the appearance of a child, the added fat had slipped away without much notice.
There was none of her offspring bounding about the desert, luckily. She'd rather not have herself buried in the task of watching children when her job was more important.
@[Bucephalus]
"If you could hear me then, can you hear me now?"
Her tired face meets him with a slow blink, awakening herself from the disrupted nirvana.
Always the one to bring something, a small creature is offered forth, moving about the ground until it was to discover the snow. A soft chuckle brings a small smile over her features as she remembers the first meeting between her and Sacre in the Steppe when she was small, frolicking through the drifts of snow without a care in the world, filled with nothing but pure bliss.
"Desert daughter?" She snorts at him with a half-hearted, teasing way that builds itself from the leftover particles of her high. "I was born and raised here; I'm visiting dead memories and ghosts. Who else would be here?" Adrixaura and Tonka wouldn't be joining her ever again, but it was nice to know that she had a place to visit them in case miracles did happen.
Rising with a slow ascent, the dipped legs tremble beneath her weight as she struggles to regain her balance. Moist snow clings to her coat, burning and igniting the reddened skin hidden by the cloak of short hair. A cringe stabs her facial features and whatever she had done to help her burns in the past seems useless.
A repositioning of her horn brings the thing that Bucephalus has brought into view. Nostrils make themselves fat with the new scent. Musk, Bucephalus, and whatever that was. A hint of wildflowers fills it but nothing too special.
"Have you another child? One think that the son I helped deliver was more than a handful already." All is meant in good will, remembering the look of the colt through a blurred memory bank. Children swarmed the herd without warning, and while she had recently held the appearance of a child, the added fat had slipped away without much notice.
There was none of her offspring bounding about the desert, luckily. She'd rather not have herself buried in the task of watching children when her job was more important.
@[Bucephalus]
"If you could hear me then, can you hear me now?"
Sikeax;
i'm missing the beauty in your soul
you were angels,
so much more than everything
:: please tag me
:: minor force and power play allowed
