04-22-2018, 09:10 PM
The cold air brushes against her sides, tugs at the rosey strands of hair that fall onto her shoulders in an ombre cascade. Her gaze is fixed on the sea. The water dances along the horizon, a peculiar dark shade between emerald and iron. It also rushes in toward the motionless mare, eating away at the cool grey sand upon which she rests her golden hooves.
The light is seeping away by the time Walter finds her, and Djinni turns to him with a soft and happy smile.
Her heart has long since stopped leaping each time she sees him, but that exhausting elation still visits now and then. Now is such a time, when the sunset illuminates the familiar length of his face in a way that makes him look almost a stranger. He isn't though; he is something better. Djinni accepts his compliment for the truth it is; she has never had trouble with poor-self esteem.
He moves away, closer to the water. The empty space where he had stood is now filled with a rush of cool air, a secondary reminder of his absence even as she watches him brace against the incoming surf. A smile tugs at her dark mouth as the water surges against him, but it's not aimed at Walter himself.
The dun mare moves forward as well, to where the foaming sea whorls about her legs and leaps up to brush at her belly. "I hope you're not too old to learn something new." Djinni says without taking her brown eyes from the rippling water. The dusk is quickly rising; even in these clear and shallow waters her legs are nothing more than shadows in darkness.
A crisp breeze blows down the cliffs, sending a shiver down her spine that she had not all excepted. She leaps closer to Walter, splashing water high around them but still managing to press her side against his for a moment.
"You picked the second most terrible season to learn to swim," Djinni tells him with a wry smile, reaching up to press her cheek to his. "Though I suppose I should be glad you didn't choose winter. We'd have had to go to Ischia for that." They could go to Ischia now, she thinks idly; it'd be far more comfortable than this chilly Nerinian shore.
She forgets that though rather quickly. The water is always where she forgets. For all her shifting, the depths are an antithesis the genie never fully respects. They'll stay here, she thinks, at least for a little while longer. As long as Walter wants it.
The light is seeping away by the time Walter finds her, and Djinni turns to him with a soft and happy smile.
Her heart has long since stopped leaping each time she sees him, but that exhausting elation still visits now and then. Now is such a time, when the sunset illuminates the familiar length of his face in a way that makes him look almost a stranger. He isn't though; he is something better. Djinni accepts his compliment for the truth it is; she has never had trouble with poor-self esteem.
He moves away, closer to the water. The empty space where he had stood is now filled with a rush of cool air, a secondary reminder of his absence even as she watches him brace against the incoming surf. A smile tugs at her dark mouth as the water surges against him, but it's not aimed at Walter himself.
The dun mare moves forward as well, to where the foaming sea whorls about her legs and leaps up to brush at her belly. "I hope you're not too old to learn something new." Djinni says without taking her brown eyes from the rippling water. The dusk is quickly rising; even in these clear and shallow waters her legs are nothing more than shadows in darkness.
A crisp breeze blows down the cliffs, sending a shiver down her spine that she had not all excepted. She leaps closer to Walter, splashing water high around them but still managing to press her side against his for a moment.
"You picked the second most terrible season to learn to swim," Djinni tells him with a wry smile, reaching up to press her cheek to his. "Though I suppose I should be glad you didn't choose winter. We'd have had to go to Ischia for that." They could go to Ischia now, she thinks idly; it'd be far more comfortable than this chilly Nerinian shore.
She forgets that though rather quickly. The water is always where she forgets. For all her shifting, the depths are an antithesis the genie never fully respects. They'll stay here, she thinks, at least for a little while longer. As long as Walter wants it.