02-26-2018, 11:58 AM
She abandons Tephras shores in favor of forest and night. Saedís dances to a symphony of crickets and songbirds – savoring every note of their violins, cellos and violas sprinkled with startdust and nightfall. Saedís, tame-less and boundless, sang as she moved; little songs from her birthland, long since abandoned and forgotten. She is the balance of perfection and imperfection, of the delicate harmony in chaos. Perhaps her dance was naïve and foolish as she followed the well-worn path that leads to the forest, but Saedís thought nothing of it. She was flighty and aloof – and her wild attentions flitted here and there like butterflies. She loves her home of brimstone and sea-salt, but sometimes she longs for the familiar smell of forest and tree-bough; of the burr´s kiss and the nettle’s embrace.
Saedís looks a little like she shouldn´t exist for real; some ghost-mare, pale-skinned and ethereal roving aimlessly through the long grasses of the forest. Oh, she stumbles over wayward roots, and there was dried mud on one knee that served as a reminder that she was of horseflesh and reality; not starlight and dreams. She moves with the fleet grace of starshine and youth – all innocent smiles and laughter. Saedís has a penchant for seeking out the lost souls, those that pine in the solitude of night and haunting memories. It is her curse perhaps, as much as theirs; that she should always try to mend those that are broken.
Today is no different – and it is this that draws her to the unknown stallion of dust skin and dull eyes. She does not wear her cloak of stars tonight; has not slain her equine skin in favor of the otherworldly. She is mare – dainty and sublime, yes. But still mare. She is thinking, behind the swing and sway of the tangles in her hair, that he looks lonely – and she breathes out a soft, cordial “hello” as she draws nearer. His odd-colored eyes and shawl of leaves has not gone unnoticed – and there is unbridled curiosity in the ocean-depth of her gaze.
@[Etojo]