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09-25-2013, 07:55 PM
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The phoenix descends in a glistening blur of red flames, golden embers, soft gray ash drifting from the wide, flapping wings beating languidly as she alights. She blazes with the crackling ferocity of a wildfire, the flames licking along her feathers and making her appear quite massive, yellow claws curling loosely up, and then she lands, scorching the red sand with the searing heat of her talons. This bird is old, far older than any horse that walks the earth now, and perhaps had been summoned by the return of the glowing sun as magic began to make its presence known once again. You can see it in her amber eyes, wise and ancient. As she lands, the wind whips around her, sending the flames of her body flickering towards the pair facing off on each other. The metal of the wall begins to melt at the heat of her peacock-sized body, the delicate engravings slowly disappearing underneath the dripping silver metal. "Rasta, Oliver." Her voice is rusted with disuse, old and wearied, and her cool yellow eyes take in the silver mare calmly, considering. She knows their names; how, she will not reveal. Her beak clicks once, twice, in mild impatience before she rustles her feathers in dissatisfaction, appearing to change her mind. "I believe... you are in great danger, my two childlings. But nonetheless, you have a chance. Follow me, blind sister, and lead her, boy." As she directs her voice to the stallion, her eyes harden, peculiarly enough. With that, she takes to the sky, a burning beacon, heading towards the lush oasis. |
