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She pinches a bit of flesh between her teeth and a plumed mane stands stiff. A raspy voice cries out its opposition and Azulee darts away; the pegasus is game, and our electric daughter smiles, the pinkness of her tongue wagging out between a cage of pearly teeth. She cranes her neck to peer behind from the corner of an electrified gaze, smiling lopsidedly as this fellow bird—magnificent as she is, cloaked in feathers and mocha skin so rich in the golden wash of noon sunshine—roars out her battle cry. Azulee feels the woman hot on her heels and tucks them in tightly. Static licks up her limbs in the thrill of their chase, and little creatures of spark spring to life in the shape of dragons: one at her left side, and the other she sends to the mare chasing her. It circles playfully above and below Ru, just out of reach. Laughter bubbles up from Azulee's bosom, spilling from black lips like spiced whiskey: warm and husky. Their laughter mingles buoyantly in the sea mist like a chorus of voices steeped in liquor. Feathers heavy with salt water slow their beating for a moment; Azulee slows herself, lion's tail swaying in front of the huntress, taunting, before she rushes forward with a great thrust of titanic wings. She angles upward as though there are strings tethering her and the gods snatch them up suddenly. She rises with her belly to the sky, then corkscrews clockwise, right side up again. All the while the pair weaves between islands much like stone giants, jutting from the ocean like hardy sentinels. She banks her wings to the right to pivot around a narrow outcrop of stone and round the other side. A rapid heartbeat drums in her ears, adrenaline quickening the rush of blood through her veins. The breeze is the woodwinds, bright and airy, symphonized against her ear drums with the heavy rush of water; the crashing of waves. Ebon wings tuck in slightly to dart her boyish figure down to the blue water once more and skids a hind toe along the waves. One of the static dragons plunges into the sea, and is gone. The other wings around the feathered mare once, then joins its creator. Azulee bobs her head vigorously, mane as dark as a starless night trashing wildly in the breezes. |
@Ru
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!
