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09-05-2016, 03:17 PM
i've got my feet on the ground and i don't go to sleep to dream |
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Macaria has become much more liberal in her wanderings – there seem to be no restrictions at all, really. Of course, if she gets that 'creeped out' feeling she almost always turns around...and each time she is forced away from one of her adventures she mumbles beneath her breath. “Always alone! If I were not alone I wouldn't have to turn around...” She'll dream up some ferocious, loyal companion-monster who's secretly a loving little thing. Never has she been so lucky though, to find an egg or pup of some sort to adopt and combine forces. Her brothers, her father, almost everyone she sees has a bonded friend...but not her, she mopes, she has yet to find any bit of company to journey around with. The Rotunda calls with a faint whispering wind that quakes the fading (yet brightening) leaves and rustles the fir-needles. It smells fresh and crisp here today, she gathers, and there are quite a few bodies about, which is rather unusual. She pokes around curiously for a little while, finding wildflowers to tuck in her tail and hoppy little frogs to follow until they find a piece of water to escape into. The entire time she's nosing around she hums under her breath with her honey sweet voice. Her feet, though big, are silent while she treads over the curves of rubble with earth grown over them. Walking along she steps over the face of an ancient statue that fell countless eons ago and is veiled in the swaying emerald grass. Stepping up onto the smooth surface of the standing structure her feet scuffle gently, muffled thuds echo off the ceiling and surrounding trees. *Crazy screaming cat sound* Her hair prickles on end and a shiver shoots down her spine. Her feline tail flicks and rises to curl above her back while her ears try to find the source of the bizarre sound. She tosses her forelock aside and reveals her golden eyes, bright and wide, searching. Almost numbly she begins to walk toward the sound and out of the rotunda, her face blank of any expression except wonder. She can see the butts of many colors from where she's starting to creep in. She finds her respective spot next to the old man who seems immediately huffy and troublesome. She steps over a few feet, making space between herself and the copper bearded stallion. She lets her hair fall back over her eyes while she looks around very briefly. Jealously, pathetically, she whines to herself about her lack of what everyone else has. It's like she can feel her mother's hoof bitch slapping her in the forehead - “Are you fucking stupid?” Her head shakes and she blows a breath through her nostrils, clearing them. “Pay attention, idiot, be grateful and stop your whining – you're almost a grown woman. Get a grip on yourself.” She swallows a lump in her throat and takes her turn after the last speaker. Her eyes focus on his smoking spots and in response her own splotchy rings begin their own magic – crackling and dancing from her steely fur, sizzling and falling at her feet. “Protection on my adventures, some company – a companion, something lovely and vicious.” She just blurts it out like the mere child she is and she's a bit mortified when she does. She barely listened to the other before, but now, in sudden reflection, she wonders if she was supposed to say something like 'help everyone, happiness for all, healers in every corner!'. She shrinks back, slouching where she stands and holding her tail tight around the side of her body, the plume twitching at her ribs. Her sparks still dance, she cannot turn them off now. Her self-esteem is in a pile at her feet, she's embarrassed and frozen. Of course, just to add to all of it her mouth has lost all sense of moisture and feels like she could cough dust. Greeeeat job. |
macaria |
:DDDD
yaayy!!
She is seeking a Royal Leviathan | Tidal Wave , if that's what this is lol
Though for fun I'd like to state that i welcome WHATEVER happening to her, really
(aside from death, obviously)
