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of the sea
The lean, maritime warrior found that she needed to slow her brisk strides as she headed back from the Threshold. Though the thorns had, indeed, torn through the woman’s soft grey skin, it hadn’t (as far as the militant mare could tell) hindered her ability to walk. While the striped, seaborne mare could not entirely hide her irritation at their plodding gait (truthfully, it was a brisk walk; but being this long away from water made her particularly irritable), her avowal to her people (and thus to acquiescing to the Earth God’s request) kept her sharp tongue sheathed from remarking on their slowed gait.
And so, in aherculean effort for small-talk, the striped warrioress asked, “Where are you from?” Her unblinking, overlarge eyes studied the silken cropped mane—its shortness at odds with the texture of the hair. Despite the welts and tears from the thorns, her coat was still sleek and the grey shone in the patches of sunlight that came through the canopy. The pink skin around her ice blue eyes was pale, unmarked my scars or sun-spots; as was the rest of her body. Even her hooves, a soft tan, were fair and flawless. The woman, whoever she was or wherever she was from, seemed unblemished by life. The contrast to herself was not lost on Aquila, her plated skin rippling slightly.
And, upon reaching the first large pool and falls, the warrior raised her ridged head and let loose a surprisingly deep, loud call for others. Legs, already growing ashen from her long stint on land, stepped into the freshwater pool. Bright aqua and rich sand leapt back to life on her skin the moment the water touched her. Her face-fins vibrated slightly as a long and relieved breath pushed out of her nostrils. “Why do you wear a crown?” Her words followed shortly after her loud whinny, unblinking eyes staring at the glittering object on the other’s brow.
And so, in a
And, upon reaching the first large pool and falls, the warrior raised her ridged head and let loose a surprisingly deep, loud call for others. Legs, already growing ashen from her long stint on land, stepped into the freshwater pool. Bright aqua and rich sand leapt back to life on her skin the moment the water touched her. Her face-fins vibrated slightly as a long and relieved breath pushed out of her nostrils. “Why do you wear a crown?” Her words followed shortly after her loud whinny, unblinking eyes staring at the glittering object on the other’s brow.
Welcoming for @Guinevere , so open to anyone who wants to accept/greet her!
Idk if @Adria wants to join too?
Oh & maybe a healer for her thorn-wounds?
Please tag Aquila in all posts.
