08-13-2015, 08:36 PM
Ephrelle likes the darkness, much more so now than she had as a child. She had never been afraid of it – there were too many shadows in the Jungle – but recently it has a new sort of appeal.
During the daytime, she remains as she has always been. She is a horse, varnished smoky black roan, with her mother’s height and her father’s build. She is normal, unremarkable in everything except how perfectly average she is. Only her eyes are noteworthy, as bright a green as the foliage in the Jungle. Emerald green; her mother’s green.
Her eyes are the same now, peering through the darkness as she makes her way through the Meadow. Everything else though? That is different. Her silky black tail swings behind her, tipped with four long spikes and lined with plate-like scales that continue up her back until they disappear into her mane. Her hooves have been replaced by an odd number of toes, and the gold scale markings on her nose now extend across her entire body, which is heavily muscled enough to put a pure Percheron to shame.
Ephrelle likes this form the most, but she is unwilling to show it in the daylight. For now though, she is content, making her way through the darkening meadow on her way to nowhere in particular. She sees movement out of the corner of her eye, and turns to see a figure even blacker than the evening, strangely blurry at the edges. She squints, wondering if her eyes are failing, but it does no good.
During the daytime, she remains as she has always been. She is a horse, varnished smoky black roan, with her mother’s height and her father’s build. She is normal, unremarkable in everything except how perfectly average she is. Only her eyes are noteworthy, as bright a green as the foliage in the Jungle. Emerald green; her mother’s green.
Her eyes are the same now, peering through the darkness as she makes her way through the Meadow. Everything else though? That is different. Her silky black tail swings behind her, tipped with four long spikes and lined with plate-like scales that continue up her back until they disappear into her mane. Her hooves have been replaced by an odd number of toes, and the gold scale markings on her nose now extend across her entire body, which is heavily muscled enough to put a pure Percheron to shame.
Ephrelle likes this form the most, but she is unwilling to show it in the daylight. For now though, she is content, making her way through the darkening meadow on her way to nowhere in particular. She sees movement out of the corner of her eye, and turns to see a figure even blacker than the evening, strangely blurry at the edges. She squints, wondering if her eyes are failing, but it does no good.