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02-03-2017, 08:44 PM
(This post was last modified: 03-23-2017, 02:54 AM by Azulee.
Edit Reason: tweakin'
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From her vantage high up in the vast blue vault of the sky, Azulee casts her gaze upon the wretched earth flung far below, she a valiant valkyrie aloft on a bed of cool air. Black wings ebb and flow through tributaries of wind, rowing her slender form onward through the heavens. The air is thin this high, here among the clouds; and cold—the storm-child finds it enlivening. Feathers wreathed in static sizzle against the brisk wind as it whispers in her ears like a thousand spirits. She shivers as it fingers the softness of her flesh, and breathes deeply, invigorated. A smile splits her inky lips; the little bird loves nothing more than flight, as surely all winged ones do. The sky is her blanket of security, her hearth, and her refuge: comforting and always there, which is more than she can say of those who gave her flesh. And so she dances, weaving this way and that, curling and swooping through an empty sea, then winging ever upward. If it were up to her, she'd never come down again. But those are the fantasies of a child, and of course, she always does. Far below rages the ocean, scattered with jagged rock spotted in green, poking out of the sea like the mangled vertebrae of some great conquered sea beast. The tang of seawater can be smelt even up here, and it teases her nostrils. She sees the glistening of cold water battering a million foamy heads against the wind. And, above it, a spec of light in the shape of a horse, gliding along, two wings jutting from its sides. She watches as the mare is taken suddenly by a gale that brings her crashing into one of the bluffs, and then poises herself again, impressed at the woman's finesse. Azulee's curiosity bristles, and she fights the forces of the skies to will herself downward, plummeting through the air like a glorious comet. It batters her, tosses her mane gracelessly about her face and into her eyes, causes her body to teeter. But she wills through it, her titan's wings fit to the task. And once a few dozen feet from the object of her interest, a nicker parts from her lips. Azulee tempers her speed, broad vulture's wings flushed out wide against self-made breezes. She tilts her warrior's body a degree upward, wiry limbs bent to her chest, then wills her body forward again, narrowing the gap between herself and the other winged one. She brings herself to the mare's left side and cranes her neck sharply toward the other body, just above her left buttock. She reaches out a dark muzzle, teeth winking between soot lips like a flash of lightning. They seek out the mare's haunches with a light nip. Then, she arches her body up and away, pivoting on an outstretched wing-tip. Buoyant laughter spills from her bosom like the rushing water just below them, its salty lips kissing her belly. She smiles wildly, peering back at the woman as she swoops higher into the sky, hoping to incite a game of cat-and-mouse, that is, if cat's and mice could fly. ooc ; I'M SORRY, I TRIED ;-; |
hard mode—HP: 65/65
physical force and magic is permitted to be used on Azulee at any time provided it does not involve powerplay (unless specified otherwise); please contact me before attempting to kill.
please tag me!
