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The colt’s wide, brilliant gold eyes watch her hooves and the step away from him, and for a moment she sees a slight relaxation of his tense, fearful pose. Satisfaction and some mild sense of relief flits through her— but it is short lived as suddenly she sees her words hit the foal with immediate effect. He tenses, and it becomes apparent to the aquatic woman and words would not be an effective form of communication.
Slowly, she begins to lower her head, a display of non-aggression. Though it is awkward, for the mare cannot remember the last time she wasn’t aggressive. Slowly (perhaps stupidly, for her fins meant nothing to land-dwellers) he face fins waved in a sign of greeting, a silent and friendly ‘hello.’ Too large eyes blinked once, releasing him of their intense stare momentarily— it all felt so strange. This was not natural for the woman, this wasn’t right.
But it was all in vain, for as the sooty yearly began to step towards her, the hungry inferno grey ravenous and impatient. The rocks beneath his small, ashen hooves gave way, “Fekero!*” and her vow of silence was quickly forgotten as a curse tore from her scaled lips. And she was a blur of motion, skin pulsing with aqua light as adrenaline flushed her veins, sharp teeth and ridged neck stretching and reaching for the deformed, timid colt.
Why was she saving this creature? In the moments of her movements, she did not have time to question herself— but later this question would arise. Now, only snapping teeth and flexing muscles threw the colt away from the edge and towards safety, instead placing herself so close to the pit’s flames.
Stare glares at the youth. “Why do you stand so close to the pit?!” Her fierce question spilled from her throat— before realizing that this would most assuredly terrify him. Ears tilt back in annoyance, a long sigh escaped from her ridged nostrils, before she quietly assessed the situation. “I am Aquila,” she finally offered, voice slipping into the airy hum she used beneath the waves. It carried better than her growl through the water, but above the water it sounded so light— so foreign even to her own ears.
*fekero = little turd (to put it nicely ;] )
Slowly, she begins to lower her head, a display of non-aggression. Though it is awkward, for the mare cannot remember the last time she wasn’t aggressive. Slowly (perhaps stupidly, for her fins meant nothing to land-dwellers) he face fins waved in a sign of greeting, a silent and friendly ‘hello.’ Too large eyes blinked once, releasing him of their intense stare momentarily— it all felt so strange. This was not natural for the woman, this wasn’t right.
But it was all in vain, for as the sooty yearly began to step towards her, the hungry inferno grey ravenous and impatient. The rocks beneath his small, ashen hooves gave way, “Fekero!*” and her vow of silence was quickly forgotten as a curse tore from her scaled lips. And she was a blur of motion, skin pulsing with aqua light as adrenaline flushed her veins, sharp teeth and ridged neck stretching and reaching for the deformed, timid colt.
Why was she saving this creature? In the moments of her movements, she did not have time to question herself— but later this question would arise. Now, only snapping teeth and flexing muscles threw the colt away from the edge and towards safety, instead placing herself so close to the pit’s flames.
Stare glares at the youth. “Why do you stand so close to the pit?!” Her fierce question spilled from her throat— before realizing that this would most assuredly terrify him. Ears tilt back in annoyance, a long sigh escaped from her ridged nostrils, before she quietly assessed the situation. “I am Aquila,” she finally offered, voice slipping into the airy hum she used beneath the waves. It carried better than her growl through the water, but above the water it sounded so light— so foreign even to her own ears.
*fekero = little turd (to put it nicely ;] )
Aquila
I left it open as to where her teeth landed to throw him to safety! It could be his mane, his neck, wherever!
Please tag Aquila in all posts.
