10-18-2017, 03:24 PM
Isobell
i'll wait for inside the bottom of the deep blue sea
He is like demon god among mortals. Isobell, without substance or alternation, stops in her place when the red eyes feast upon her tender sides, the quiver of her dark lips. It is as though he sucks the air from the very space around him yet offers rejuvenating life in the bountiful foods and drinks that the horses seem to crave, their body pulsing and throbbing beneath a fat stone moon.The clutch of her breath in her throat is involuntary but not unreasonable. She had seen more in the moments she placed a hoof in Sylva than ever anywhere in her life before. She was a queen in training...and queens were not suppose to consort with heathens and pagans. The man has braked his motion only momentarily and Isobell feels the world slow down. The rambling voices, the pants of jagged breaths, the moans not far away, are all ignored as she can not look away from the creature that watches her from beneath his ghostly brow with eyes that smolder like coals.
"Gryffen." She repeats his name, knowing it from some possible story book, a conversation had in a starlit conclave? Isobell does not yet offer her own as his words are honeyed and she is young. Praise would always be a thing welcomed as she still sees herself as an ugly little duckling despite the way the man moves to press against her cheek. Her breath catches again as she can taste his scent on her tongue. Ceder wood and earth after spring rainfall. She has never encounter much more than the salt air and black sands of Nerine but she knows the names of these things despite only have them described to her by the elder horses.
"Your party..." She begins before being shoved by a drunken passerby, her body thrown against his momentarily, her silver eyes flashing with anger at the booze-hound but she resets herself, steps away from Gryffen, pale stranger with the hungry red eyes. "I'm Isobell." Her mouth forms the words prettily (though she is sure to leave out who she truly is), her name proper and feminine upon her pink tongue. She is named well and strong, unlike some of the poor creatures that roamed Beqanna.
Poor creatures indeed.