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01-21-2017, 07:14 PM
Syrena
let the water take me
She doesn’t mind the smell of the seashore that lingers on him. The rest of the smell maybe, some it’s largely sea so it’s fine. The mare that joined them seems to remain silent as they work, which doesn’t really bother Syrena. She’s perfectly fine with the quiet, though she didn’t mind the company that had managed to find her. A sassy mare who hopefully wouldn’t give two shits about Syrena’s normally deadpan nature, and a stallion that reeked of the sea. There was worse company to keep.
The stallion introduces himself as Tarik. She nods, tucking that name into the ever-growing inventory of them. She kept forgetting names about as quickly as she tucked them away, pretending that she might actually remember all of them. If she remembered a third, that’d pretty much be a miracle.
She keeps working, plucking at dead things with her hoof and clearly not enjoying the work. But the water needs them, and she will work for that. She will earn her place among her siren sisters one day. The stallion seems even less inclined to get dirty, as the black mare put it. But whatever, she doesn’t really care. Well, sort of.
The growing pile of bones catches her attention just as the stallion takes a swing of something from the flask he carries. And then offers it to them. “Does that flask magically produce a way to carry these bones back?” she asks, assuming it doesn’t, but hoping he might jump in and find a way to get that back. Driftwood, maybe, if she can find a piece large enough. Because in truth, it was beginning to look reasonably clean in their area, but they needed to get the bones back.
“What’s even in that?” she asks, not saying no. Not that she’s letting anything get as loose as the stallion probably wants. But she might admit to be curious. She listens as she keeps working, clearing dead things and she scouts about for some driftwood, finally finding a suitably large piece. She kicks it back to the pile of bones in a terribly haphazard way, and then begins scooting the bones onto the wood.
"words"
The stallion introduces himself as Tarik. She nods, tucking that name into the ever-growing inventory of them. She kept forgetting names about as quickly as she tucked them away, pretending that she might actually remember all of them. If she remembered a third, that’d pretty much be a miracle.
She keeps working, plucking at dead things with her hoof and clearly not enjoying the work. But the water needs them, and she will work for that. She will earn her place among her siren sisters one day. The stallion seems even less inclined to get dirty, as the black mare put it. But whatever, she doesn’t really care. Well, sort of.
The growing pile of bones catches her attention just as the stallion takes a swing of something from the flask he carries. And then offers it to them. “Does that flask magically produce a way to carry these bones back?” she asks, assuming it doesn’t, but hoping he might jump in and find a way to get that back. Driftwood, maybe, if she can find a piece large enough. Because in truth, it was beginning to look reasonably clean in their area, but they needed to get the bones back.
“What’s even in that?” she asks, not saying no. Not that she’s letting anything get as loose as the stallion probably wants. But she might admit to be curious. She listens as she keeps working, clearing dead things and she scouts about for some driftwood, finally finding a suitably large piece. She kicks it back to the pile of bones in a terribly haphazard way, and then begins scooting the bones onto the wood.
"words"
darya87 | larfsalot
on deviantart
@Tarik
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Magic use/power playing is okay, but check before serious injury/death
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