I stray toward him because he is like home, dark and foreboding with the occasional smile to crack that extraneous veneer. All the way down to the brooding knot between his brows, nostrils flaring as he moves quietly between the gathering equines. My own ears lean forward, following the sound of his footsteps in the sand, pale eyes stair-stepping across the languid tug and pull of his muscles. Perhaps it is part desire as well, not only the sense of familiarity I find when he is near. Three times now I have seen him after-all, three times I have been able to pick him out of a crowd, watching absently as he gnaws at the bit. He speaks, not to me of course, but to the creature that found its way out of the softly beating waters. 'Welcome,' and for a brief moment I almost wish he was welcoming me. Instead I listen, ears swiveling like well-tuned radios, picking up the murmur of questions and curiosity that rose in a swell throughout those present. I should say something too, bring attention to myself so that maybe I do not get left behind this time. So I stay silent, tongue lashing against the backs of my teeth as I lower my head in self-inflicted shame (you are such a coward).
It is too soon, I can still feel the memory of her garbled lightning against my flesh, burning, bruising. The stench of singed hair is perpetually rising up in my senses, tinging the scent of a flower I might stop for, or even the pines that litter the Orangemoon floor. Yet somehow I find my hooves drawing me near, not necessarily to the exact spot of my violation, but still too close for comfort. I wander the edges of the sand for some time, no real direction driving me, just the insatiable need to feel something warm and cool against my ankles. It is just like the last time when I find them, a small group of horses gathered around the beach, all facing the water. The only thing it lacked was a talking spruce, instead it was someone else, or something?
The closer I strode the better I could see the creature pulling the remaining bits of itself from the water. It was like liquid sea, skin glistening like vines, flattened and stretched over hard bone and make-shift muscle. It was beautiful, a sight that pleased my eyes and made my heart flutter endlessly. The creamy color clashing with slowly fading blues and... and colors I could not even describe. Was this the sea? What it looked like beneath the cutting waves? Or just some bizarre monster come up from the depths to deceive? The scenarios were endless but nobody seemed too intent on chasing it off, let alone putting it down. There must have been some level of safety for so many horses to justify the lack of boundary. I sure hoped so.
That is when I saw him, him, the black beast that was wheedling his way into these things I kept finding. He too must have been drawn by the strangeness, and maybe it was then that I really started to notice more than just his presence. I had seen him before, once at the Basin, during one of the few times that Mother was keeping me close to home. Back then he had a little... oh, there it was, its tails deceptively soft against the sand next to his feet. I wanted to touch them like I wanted to touch the beast standing before this growing crowd. I kind of wanted to touch him too, just to see if that gleaning body was real. I am thinking about it so hard I am suddenly beside him, not too close, but close enough that I think I can smell him - or perhaps it is only the salty, wafting breeze.
"Talk."
ooc - no, no she is not falling in love with Erebos *cough* but she is admiring him very much yes.
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[O] SWP :: Once upon a wave :: (Intro)
