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Tembovu
Pink.
The woman who stands at the Edge’s glass-strewn borders is decidedly pink. Granted, the Elephant had seen wildly colored equines within Helovia’s borders (the father of Anzanie’s child comes to mind, with his vibrant stripes). And the wild Plateaus of Dorobo had been littered with striking Korofi coats and wings.
But never anything so radiant or vivid as the pink that stained this mare’s coat. Mbwene, herself, was intrigued. She liked bright colors (though she preferred to collect blue-shaded things), and she liked soft satiny things. This woman seemed to fit both, from a distance, so her round feet trundled towards the black-laced, magenta woman, leading her Elephant King.
Though the vibrancy of her coat paled as her web-like markings glowed in the dim, misted lighting of the Edge’s forests. And, as the King approaches, even her glowing skin fades when he sees her openly dark expression on a black-painted face. His ears swept forward, masked face clouding slightly as he studied her for a few moments longer than he studied others he met on the Edge’s borders. Only one other had given him a pause such as this—the eyeless, elk-skulleddemon stallion that had sought entrance into the Edge.
And he had disappeared into the shadows of the night. Would this mare? She certainly seemed at ease in the darkness, moving easily in their obscurity despite her vivid coat.
“Hello,” his simple greeting rumbled deeply from his chest, “I am Tembovu, King of the Edge. Is there something you seek within our borders?” Mbwene, entranced by her glowing markings, slowly approached the woman with her nimble trunk reaching for the luminous webbing.
The woman who stands at the Edge’s glass-strewn borders is decidedly pink. Granted, the Elephant had seen wildly colored equines within Helovia’s borders (the father of Anzanie’s child comes to mind, with his vibrant stripes). And the wild Plateaus of Dorobo had been littered with striking Korofi coats and wings.
But never anything so radiant or vivid as the pink that stained this mare’s coat. Mbwene, herself, was intrigued. She liked bright colors (though she preferred to collect blue-shaded things), and she liked soft satiny things. This woman seemed to fit both, from a distance, so her round feet trundled towards the black-laced, magenta woman, leading her Elephant King.
Though the vibrancy of her coat paled as her web-like markings glowed in the dim, misted lighting of the Edge’s forests. And, as the King approaches, even her glowing skin fades when he sees her openly dark expression on a black-painted face. His ears swept forward, masked face clouding slightly as he studied her for a few moments longer than he studied others he met on the Edge’s borders. Only one other had given him a pause such as this—the eyeless, elk-skulled
And he had disappeared into the shadows of the night. Would this mare? She certainly seemed at ease in the darkness, moving easily in their obscurity despite her vivid coat.
“Hello,” his simple greeting rumbled deeply from his chest, “I am Tembovu, King of the Edge. Is there something you seek within our borders?” Mbwene, entranced by her glowing markings, slowly approached the woman with her nimble trunk reaching for the luminous webbing.
@Zailah
Please tag Tembovu.
