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05-04-2017, 02:30 AM
Mountains scale everywhere, triumphant against the harshness of the land and the brutality of the winds. For the faintest moments, she finds herself thinking of what it must be like to live here, how it must feel when the cold runs its deepest, something she barely knows from travels but still has the slightest idea of it. Some of them are cloaking their shoulders in the false warmth of snow.
Her flight, aching the muscles in her wings till the ground reunites with her, now becoming somewhat hesitant to give up the gift bestowed upon her at birth, although slightly nervous at the remembrance of its consequences, bares her one more gift.
A bird.
Its presence and announcement of it, spewing aggression that shoves a brisk gasp in her lips and makes her eyes widen to their brims, almost instinctively drawing her wings in for protection before remembering that that is an act of death, or at least great harm, pushes in a touch of grief. It’s not an emotion she’s particularly keen on it. The lump growing in her throat creates a loss of words that she already had a lack of, and the tightness in her chest sends a scowl across her features. Snapping teeth find themselves in sync with the bird’s cries and thrashing, and at the feeling that one approach is just too close, her little body dives down to the earth.
It doesn’t bring the escape she begs for.
Hard brows and stern eyes glare at the little bird as it comes back around, one thought filling up the space in her head as it does so.
Spirit.
Down comes the bird, her wings now pulled upwards in some desperate, awkward attempt to make her size look larger than it truly is, hoping to scare the beast away. Maybe it works, maybe it doesn’t, maybe it’s just Vauphine’s way of taunting her absence and abandonment, her previous failure to tend to things deemed unsavable.
But someone is also yelling at her, her lips scowling harder as their approach comes closer, telling her that the bird doesn’t intend bad. Equal disapproval and disbelief fly out in the harshness of a snort, head shaking with the force, something equivalent to “fuck you” when Skeyti has no words to describe that feeling. Leaving passes through her mind now, pulling her wings towards her sides and angling her body so that her language obviously states her intention to carry on without answering that question.
Nonetheless, someone is there to do it for her, capturing her attention shown through raised brows and a lack of her scowl, discarded to retrieve some type of surprise. She hasn’t exactly been paying attention, and now that someone even larger than her company is here, instinct screams for her to run.
She can’t help herself though. Anger has already wiggled its way into her, and faced with a chance, she jumps on it.
So, with a sureness that she’s never known, head jerking up with her words as her body tenses into a state of smartass-ness, Skeyti finds her best know-it-all face. “Yes!” The word chirps out with the briskness of a spring thunderstorm, her eyes alight with delight as she makes sure to watch the horned mare for a reaction. “Aurora Basin.” Her smile can only grow in size as she looks onto the stud, contentedness displayed as much as she can manage as a silent ‘thank you’ is made in his direction.
A small dance finds itself in her bones as she finds her body shaking further into tautness, rising to the occasion with that same ol’ smile, shoulders shifting about in self-centered pride. The smirk riding his face only makes her feel better about her actions, and while Skeyti is very unlikely to find herself enjoying someone, Rikyn might just be one to win her over.
He pops her a question she’s not ready for though, furrowing her brows in quiet confusion as he asks her if she needs something. All of this feels over the top for her. As far as she is concerned, her presence shouldn’t bring this much interest, but her voice is already out there, so with a quick, rash thought based on her curiosity, she finds two words to pop out at them.
“No. Why?” Her small face gives away every bit of her confusion in the process, ears pointed towards him, not the horned mare with the particularly rude spirit.
OOC: oops more rustiness c':
