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Ophelia
danced above the blaze
The world at the edge of her vision faded, memories dancing with errant thoughts and the sound of the crashing waves. Life had moved around her, used to the statuesque way she held her frame, only fibers of white and crimson catching in the wind. A feeling of “right” overcame her mind and soul, a comfortable sensation of being in the right place at the right time – and such beautiful sensations came so very rarely. The smile that curved her lips was soft, a mousy line that softened the worried, alabaster planes of an ornate face, and long, pale lashes touched on her cheeks, closing her eyes to the light. So lost in her thoughts as she was, she did not notice the stranger until he was upon her. A deep, masculine voice broke through the envelope of mental fog, and she blinked clarity into her strange, two colored eyes. Ophelia tilted her head, regarding him with amicable curiosity and a slight sense of fading, as if she were not quite there at all – dreaming. Absently, she glanced around, noticing that his stiff, moving presence had disrupted the habitat again, and she hummed, sticking the toes of her cloven hooves into the sand to watch a muscle wriggle back in. Ophelia nodded in agreement, looking up at him once more. He had a coat of steel, though a vein of precious metal snaked up and around a shoulder, as if seeking the sun and finding the shadow below to be much more favorable. Though similar in height, his frame shaped with angles of a stallion, wide set shoulders and bold neck setting him apart, even without horns. Most of whom she knew now were like herself, so finding this stallion who, interestingly enough, reminded her of her mother, brought her into the present. Even the gold… Soleil’s gold hue had been scars, and in her age, the only steel left had gathered around joints, but the colors were so familiar. “I was born by the sea,” she commented softly, her voice delicate and gentle like chimes, belying the dangerous spy and darkness beneath the angelic exterior. Moments passed, clouds shifting but never revealing the sun on this desaturated scene. “My apologies. I am Ophelia the Forsaken,” she introduced. “From the World’s Edge.” How strange those words… So strange the way the herd sounded on her tongue. Foreign, just as she was. Ophelia looked at him expectantly, awaiting his response. |
@Karalius
 Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done. Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning. |
Please tag me in every response!
