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Storm child pirouettes through the air like a true balletic queen, swooping through curtains of wind as though she were lightning incarnate; swift and precise and electrifying. In fact, she seems to have roused something feral in her fellow bird, and her heart sings with the fevered abandon of their theatrics; two strangers—no! Two children of the sky—intertwined in a dance of cat and mouse, unencumbered by words or names or the earth flung far below. A dark belly reveals itself to the sun, and she feels a pair of teeth plant themselves on the peak of her hips: a brisk kiss that sends a squealish nicker rushing from Azulee's lips, and then a roguish grin as she pulls away from her company. Streams of wind rush swiftly under her, around her, unto her, and mighty ebony wings bend as if to cradle them. As she swoops around the rock face, she expects what she finds on the other side, but still her pulse quickens at the sight of her suspended in the air. Molten sunlight melts in white feathers, making them look much like a glowing halo, fit to crown the nymph who wields them. She dips downward, twisting like an arrow confiscated by gravity. A whisk of feathers brush her bosom; a parting gift, soft and intimate, sending her heart into a flutter as she torpedoes down, down, down. She has half a mind to plunge her body beneath the waves, to baptize her heathen self in the hallowed sea. But at the last moment, she rights herself. Azulee peers back as she skims along the waves, eyes as bright and wild as the blue-green water glittering in the sun. The spark-dragon darts all about its puppet master, who wings along atop the crashing waves with the grace of a queen commanding her court. She tosses her head and clumps of hair heavy with salt water whip against storm-painted shoulders. She smiles wildly. Azulee can barely remember the last time she's played like this. It used to be her favorite game with Cirrus, who was always just that much quicker, but that is a lifetime ago now. The memory pricks at her heart, bittersweet. This mare reminds her a bit of her sister. Roguish and wild. When joined by her company, Azulee nickers warmly. She lifts herself up as her company swoops out in front, gliding just above. She imagines they are a pair of valkyries hunting the phantasms of childhood, spirits that play in the air just in front of their noses, but always out of reach. Ru banks to the right, and Azulee tips her body in the opposite direction, the tips of her feathers also skimming the water and bringing her to teeter precariously. As she turns full-circle, the other sticks a rough landing on a rocky beach, and she snorts. The spark-dragon darts over to the mare, turning in tight circles around her head, and makes a strange staticy squawk sound as if to try coaxing her back into the sky. But it quickly phases out of existence, and Azulee too alights on the rocks. "Tired already?" Azulee teases breathlessly. She trots up to the front of her company, eyes glittering mischievously. She reaches out her muzzle to lip at the tangled strands of the mare's forelock, letting a moment slink by so they might catch their breath. Ru is the last one to have landed a nip... is it Azulee's turn. The storm-singer rears up, wings flaring out as she bounds forward and to the mares left side. She cranes her head to nip at water-logged flanks, and then canters away, thrashing her head about. "Dance with me!" she howls! rearing and flailing her legs, mighty wings flushed wide, her words all swept up in laughter. |
@Ru
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.
please tag me!
