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Ebon wings flush out wide from peppered flanks, probing the vast blue yonder that merely swallows the dark little bird cloaked in thunder. She has left the Threshold with no more knowledge than she'd entered it, only the vague counsel of one who called themselves "sea soul": don't go back. Of course, that is just what the Ardent's daughter will do. South she goes, to her once-home in a dragon's throat. Thin air needles her nostrils, quivering with notes of nostalgia; smells that bring her back into the body of a child, remind her of her youth. She chases it, teeth like piano keys peeled to the wind. The cool morning air preens feathers bared to its embrace, cradling the currents rushing swiftly under her, around her, unto her. They ripple against her belly and whistle through the windswept tendrils of a dread-locked mane, black hair whipping fiercely against storm-painted shoulders. Azulee, feral as the electricity that writhes betwixt her feathers like glowing, hissing serpents, pays no heed to borders. She will see if the unicorn's claims holds truth. Last she remembers, all those with wings are welcome here, so she bypasses the bridge. Titan's wings angle downward, navigating the thermals in such a way that brings her swiftly down, lion's tail ruttering behind her. She joins with the sand in a grand golden spray, furling her wings to her sides as voltaic eyes search the red waste for signs of life: those little black scarabs stirring on the horizon. Azulee curls her cleft toes into the ever-warming sand, reacquainting herself with a childhood friend. Distant silhouettes melt in the sleepy-eyed sun... is that the ghost of Azzuen stirring at the edge of the world? Azulee decides it is so—afterall, this is his tomb. She lifts her nose to the breeze, inhaling deeply, and waits. In the waxing hours of dawn, the air still chilly with the leftovers of a cold night, Azulee breathes a thin wreathe of smoke into the air. The wind caresses the curves of her boyish figure with spidery fingers, and it carries with it a lament for the return of the electric daughter in the absence of her loved ones. Yet, its song bodes great promise, and warns of great trials. i've got your wild-eyed ways. |
hard mode—HP: 65/65
physical force and magic is permitted to be used on Azulee at any time provided it does not involve powerplay (unless specified otherwise); please contact me before attempting to kill.
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