The harsh light of winter reflecting from the white blanket of snow was beginning to soften as the sun rose in the sky. A once quiet forest was filling with the eager chattering of creatures and the cry of birds overhead. Achromatic magpies made purchase on the a nearby tree, arguing over something nonsensical in a musical way. Everything the light touched seemed to refract in a glorious array of colors or brightness, arming the land in precious, transient diamonds. The only darkness that hung in the vicinity were Ophelia's words that held violence in a frosted breath and tainted with laughter. Save for the bloody crimson of her fibrous hair, the worst hung in stark contrast to her lithe, pristine form as well. The paradox was obvious and ironic. Not all that glitters is gold.
The stallion did not seem perturbed by her admittance but rather surprised. How could he be judgmental of her choices with blue orbs bathing in blackness? From appearance alone, he was every bit as willing to kiss the midnight dream as she. He was right, though; she was an exception to the general rule. "True. I have no interest in bearing children," she stated, admitting this truth to herself and to him in tandem. The darkness of my father's line must come to and end, and I would never wish the curse of my mind upon a child. But her father's line would never end. Hototo carried the blood of Riekahn, as did her twin brothers. Skeletons never remained in the closet; rather, they enjoyed dancing just in your periphery, mocking.
His eyes seemed to scrutinize her, as if staring deep enough into her odd orbs would shift the puzzle enough for him to gain a mental purchase on the mystery. Would he discover something in the crimson and blue? The grin on his lips made the expression almost wicked, and she waited patiently for his reply, surprised by his agreement. She honestly expected him to tell her to go to hell or something of the sort - with his patented grin of half mocking, of course. A smile moved across her lips. "Welcome to the Grey," she said, all too pleased to have a new addition to their merry band of killers and spies.
The stallion seemed to relax, so Tinek calmed on Ophelia's head, snorting once and closing his eyes as if bored. When he introduced himself, saying that he was from the Woodlands, her eyes widened, and she felt the shock of her past jolt through her spine. Then, she narrowed her eyes slightly, though he had no reason to lie. When he bowed, she continued to watch him, his entire persona becoming even more mysterious than before. Djinn moved closer, and she raised a brow, looking up at him as he towered over her figure, and Tinek growled in warning. He was a breath away, and she could feel the heat of his body warming her own fur. She prepared for the collision and a possible fight, tensing her figure and laying her ears in warning against her skull, but no impact came.
He walked through her. The stallion walked through her as if she was nothing more than a spirit from another world. Both of her ears perked forward again as he winked, and she snorted in amusement, shaking her head. "Useful trick," she commented, relaxing her body once more. Tinek huffed. "The Grey typically meets in the Deep Forest. I would tell you to have fun, but I doubt you need that reminder."
Ophelia paused then and furrowed her brows. "I was born on the Tides of Isilme," she said. "Did you see any survivors?"
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