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of the sea
She was still.
It was a strange thing to be, for the seahorse. Her life had been perpetual motion: training, drills, swaying in ocean currents. For those of the sea, there was never stillness. But for those of the land… How often she had seen equines standing, sleeping, watching. All with with their four hooves rooted firmly in the earth.
And here she was, becoming one of them. With her webbed, cloven feet sunk in shifting sands. Scaled, striped ears tilted back, resting on her ridged neck as she realized this. But, with her haunches to the sea and setting sun, she still did not move. Only a flick of her barbed tail and pinned ears gave any outward sign of her internal ire.
She stared out over the Isle that were awash in the setting sun’s palette. Despite her dislike of things above the sea, the militant mare had to admit that there was some beauty in the fiery glow that splashed the green cliffs and reflected on the turquoise water. She sighed, then snorted— suddenly pawing fiercely with her right forelimb, sending a crystalline splash around her chests and face.
Ridged face swung around, unblinking eyes staring momentarily at the hot, fiery, sinking ball. Her wide gaze narrowed once— against the glare and against the clawing, empty loneliness that replaced any sense of self or purpose in her lithe barrel.
Then her bright irises fell to the waves lapping at her plated knees. This land was full of things she did not know, but she had been resilient against the stabbing hopelessness for so long. Her training had kept her persevering… but now, alone with the sea, her defenses began to crumble.
It was a strange thing to be, for the seahorse. Her life had been perpetual motion: training, drills, swaying in ocean currents. For those of the sea, there was never stillness. But for those of the land… How often she had seen equines standing, sleeping, watching. All with with their four hooves rooted firmly in the earth.
And here she was, becoming one of them. With her webbed, cloven feet sunk in shifting sands. Scaled, striped ears tilted back, resting on her ridged neck as she realized this. But, with her haunches to the sea and setting sun, she still did not move. Only a flick of her barbed tail and pinned ears gave any outward sign of her internal ire.
She stared out over the Isle that were awash in the setting sun’s palette. Despite her dislike of things above the sea, the militant mare had to admit that there was some beauty in the fiery glow that splashed the green cliffs and reflected on the turquoise water. She sighed, then snorted— suddenly pawing fiercely with her right forelimb, sending a crystalline splash around her chests and face.
Ridged face swung around, unblinking eyes staring momentarily at the hot, fiery, sinking ball. Her wide gaze narrowed once— against the glare and against the clawing, empty loneliness that replaced any sense of self or purpose in her lithe barrel.
Then her bright irises fell to the waves lapping at her plated knees. This land was full of things she did not know, but she had been resilient against the stabbing hopelessness for so long. Her training had kept her persevering… but now, alone with the sea, her defenses began to crumble.
@Syrena @Tiamat #MERMAIDSQUAD
Please tag Aquila in all posts.
