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12-13-2016, 10:36 PM
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She flitted across the wood's frozen earth and its labyrinth of little wonders like the fawn that resided in her bones, the stark hues of blue and fickle winterlight, Boreas's maelstrom design bouncing in restless droplets of color down her spine as the sky opened up and hid again behind the oaken arms of precious guardians above as she went, hoping to be received by a gentle traveller's eyes, a countryman's readied salutation. She was expectant, but simultaneously not altogether there, both inspecting the seemingly empty spaces between the trees and daydreaming of what it might be like to be the tree itself, and so was how she became the heavy swatch of shadow, an upright pool of pitch and sapphire stone that seemed to appear just as she looked its way (a person? an estranged soul condemned to wander physical planes? both?); disheveled and faraway and smiling, always. She did notice, though, as her hooves skid in the snow and her legs bounced with the effort to slow that the specter had a distinctly equine shape, and that it was sleek, and tall, a brooding figure, and there were lines of strength there, coiled and taut, running in leisure rivulets along its frame—unabashedly masculine, and she thought to herself as she went to meet him that that thing there must have a name. "Hello!" she called out when some distant and unconscious part of her remembered that he himself had hailed her first, and though he had stopped at a polite distance and began to introduce himself, as some creatures ought to do, Tovah continued on until such a silly thing as distance could no longer hinder her observation of him, chasing it away with a single and balletic swoop, for to lack the innate knowledge of personal boundary was to not know the thing existed at all. He was achingly dark, much too harsh, too melancholic, almost; young and raw but armed and frightening and bleeding onyx into the ice, but her father taught her to be bold, and occasionally her mother, too, a halo of light in moonlit slivers of memory that pressed like breaths behind her skull, would remind her to be unafraid, that stars did not fear the dark but embraced it as their home, and so she disregarded the pinprick of anxiety, the ill omen branded into the oceanic skin of his boyish shoulder. There was something strange alight in his eyes despite the abyssal anarchy that was he, the gleam of pearls beneath a watery grave, Poseidon's bounty, and his face like hers rippled with youth and jubilation that creased at the corners, a warmth, if only that humming from the very edges of him, and I am Erebos, he had said, and she nodded to herself in agreement. Yes, but only on the outside. His mane was thick and tendrils of oil, and there was an an odd tuft of it hanging from his chin—a beard! and suddenly she was delighted. The supple velvet of her nose stretched between them so that she might get a better look, bobbing in curiosity, and she gestured just shy of touching his muzzle before gently pulling away. "I like your hair," she stated plainly, and somewhere in the multiple beyonds the few gods of Social Propriety shook their heads in infinite disappointment. He had asked her who she was, iron crown tipping and expression stained with a familiar want to know, and she took quite a few handfuls of precarious moments to reply simply because she was contemplating the myriad of answers it was possible to give in response to such a vague question (who was she?): "I'm Tovah," she said behind the taste of a dreamy grin, "-and I'm not from anywhere, really." And with that her restless feet could remain still no longer, and she meandered over to the nearest fir under the guise of inspecting it, which quickly became her true intention after she became enamored with an insect crawling up its papery bark, lackluster and plain and utterly tiny. "Is this forest part of your home?" she asked of both it and Erebos, and when the bug flew off with a flutter of gossamer and spindly legs she turned to the ebon knight perhaps born of the sea that raged in his eyes, cocking her poppy head softly to the side. "The Aurora Basin?" |
@Erebos OOC: !! Thank you! Yours is doubly beautiful <3
