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04-15-2017, 05:32 PM
EVEcuriosity killed the cat
The flurry of wings stirred Eve from her thoughts, and she glanced to her side to spot a small reptile flying towards her; she stared blankly, though it was moreso from confusion than shock. “Are you a dragon?” She managed, after a moment’s silence, thought she doubted that the creature could respond. They did have dragons in the Wildwood, though the dragons she was accustomed to were not like this one, assuming it was a dragon at all – the dragons in the Wildwood were massive and crafted purely from the elements, not…scales and skin and blood. The little creature took to circling around her, pretty scarlet eyes fixed on her frame, and she would have been perfectly content to watch it for a spell, soft smile curled across her lips, if she hadn’t been distracted by the flicker of moment at the edge of her vision. She turned abruptly, soft lilac eyes shifting to focus on the much larger, cream-colored shape that had just entered her realm of thought. She froze.
Eve had always known her mother, and she had always known herself. Very occasionally, a wildling would shapeshift into a horse, though she could always tell that they were wildlings. Regardless of the form they took, they held a certain unnerving, impossible perfection about them; you knew that they could not really exist, and it always made them feel very wrong. They were far more beautiful than any mortal could ever hope to be, but, at the same time, they weren’t beautiful at all, because their very nature was a violation of reality as she knew it, not that she had ever had a very firm grasp on the concept. Other than that, she’d never left the Wildwood, and no others had ever strayed in to encounter her. Her gaze drifted across the stranger that had just walked into her sight precariously, soaking in every little detail; vaguely, she processed his words, ears flicking to catch the smooth baritone of his voice. (He was Astarot. The little creature was Zafir, and she would not harm her, though Eve hadn’t been especially ruffled by her presence to begin with – growing up alongside eldritch abominations would do that. He was from somewhere called…the Dragon’s Throat?) She was more preoccupied with his presence than his words, for once, excitement bubbling up in her chest as she took in every inch of his dun coat. The white markings on his face and back, on his sides…they looked like they were tracing his skeleton, didn’t they? How intriguing! The stripes of brilliant blue – cyan, she noted mentally - on his face matched one of his eyes, but the other was a different color entirely, a ruby-red not dissimilar to his companion’s. She made a note of the fluctuations in the shades of cream of his coat, the way it darkened around his face and hips and legs, the tiny flecks of white that materialized sporadically, the little stripes on his limbs. His hair was lengthy and full, reminiscent of her own, though it was quite straight, unlike her wild curls. The man was considerably larger than her, in terms of both height and mass, built for a strength that she lacked. Eve took a second to appreciate how different he was, how unique, how they were both the same kinds of creatures in spite of how dissimilar he was to her. It was marvelous! “My goodness,” She said, somewhat awestruck, as a broad grin worked its way across her features, “You’re quite magnificent!” Eve dipped her head in something of a belated greeting, feeling horribly giddy about this sudden turn of events. “Astarot…Zafir,” She started, rolling their names around on her tongue, “It’s a pleasure to meet both of you! I’m Eve of the Wildwood…or, well, I was. Now I’m just Eve.” It wasn’t as though she could ever go back, not that she’d want to.
Astarot then asked her if she was new to these lands, just as Zafir came to rest on his back. She nodded firmly. “Ah, yes. I’m from quite a ways away, or so I imagine – I...didn’t exactly walk here.” Eve tore her eyes away from the stallion for just long enough to glance about the forest again, quirking her brow. He’d mentioned herds, and though she was, admittedly, curious about them, she had more immediate questions. “What is this place?”
Eve had always known her mother, and she had always known herself. Very occasionally, a wildling would shapeshift into a horse, though she could always tell that they were wildlings. Regardless of the form they took, they held a certain unnerving, impossible perfection about them; you knew that they could not really exist, and it always made them feel very wrong. They were far more beautiful than any mortal could ever hope to be, but, at the same time, they weren’t beautiful at all, because their very nature was a violation of reality as she knew it, not that she had ever had a very firm grasp on the concept. Other than that, she’d never left the Wildwood, and no others had ever strayed in to encounter her. Her gaze drifted across the stranger that had just walked into her sight precariously, soaking in every little detail; vaguely, she processed his words, ears flicking to catch the smooth baritone of his voice. (He was Astarot. The little creature was Zafir, and she would not harm her, though Eve hadn’t been especially ruffled by her presence to begin with – growing up alongside eldritch abominations would do that. He was from somewhere called…the Dragon’s Throat?) She was more preoccupied with his presence than his words, for once, excitement bubbling up in her chest as she took in every inch of his dun coat. The white markings on his face and back, on his sides…they looked like they were tracing his skeleton, didn’t they? How intriguing! The stripes of brilliant blue – cyan, she noted mentally - on his face matched one of his eyes, but the other was a different color entirely, a ruby-red not dissimilar to his companion’s. She made a note of the fluctuations in the shades of cream of his coat, the way it darkened around his face and hips and legs, the tiny flecks of white that materialized sporadically, the little stripes on his limbs. His hair was lengthy and full, reminiscent of her own, though it was quite straight, unlike her wild curls. The man was considerably larger than her, in terms of both height and mass, built for a strength that she lacked. Eve took a second to appreciate how different he was, how unique, how they were both the same kinds of creatures in spite of how dissimilar he was to her. It was marvelous! “My goodness,” She said, somewhat awestruck, as a broad grin worked its way across her features, “You’re quite magnificent!” Eve dipped her head in something of a belated greeting, feeling horribly giddy about this sudden turn of events. “Astarot…Zafir,” She started, rolling their names around on her tongue, “It’s a pleasure to meet both of you! I’m Eve of the Wildwood…or, well, I was. Now I’m just Eve.” It wasn’t as though she could ever go back, not that she’d want to.
Astarot then asked her if she was new to these lands, just as Zafir came to rest on his back. She nodded firmly. “Ah, yes. I’m from quite a ways away, or so I imagine – I...didn’t exactly walk here.” Eve tore her eyes away from the stallion for just long enough to glance about the forest again, quirking her brow. He’d mentioned herds, and though she was, admittedly, curious about them, she had more immediate questions. “What is this place?”
but satisfaction brought it back
-Please tag Eve! - No permission is required to do anything to Eve short of permanently maiming/killing her
