09-24-2018, 10:36 AM
Sea storms always call to her and she heeds their siren whenever she can manage too. The battered cliffside shores of Nerine are her favorite, being that she was born there on a stormy night, but she is far from Nerine for now and so the Meadow’s lapping waves will have to suffice. Thunder rolls some miles away, threatening to drift inland as the mists start falling from the graying skies.
Travel is much faster by air; her large obsidian scaled wings carry her lithe bay body with ease in silence. The light rain begins her slick her dappled bay chest and rib-sides, oiling her black wings. Something below catches her attention, a piebald stallion gold, blue and white. The dim light reflects off of his opalescent patches and then it clicks. She knows him. Well, sort of. He had led her away once when she was younger and she followed him with a willingness that had scared her older sister who whisked her away before anything could have happened (whether it had been disastrous or fun, or both, Wrena would never know).
She is older now and not much wiser, if we’re being honest.
“Hello.” Her voice is smooth, purring. She touches down behind him and folds her reptilian wings to her side, eyeing him from a safe distance. She had missed his display of teeth earlier, but she remembers them from before, his foreboding presence in general. She shivers, both from a frigid gust of wind and the memory of walking behind him, innocently enamored with his handsome appearance and terrifying sort of nature.
@[Ivar]
Travel is much faster by air; her large obsidian scaled wings carry her lithe bay body with ease in silence. The light rain begins her slick her dappled bay chest and rib-sides, oiling her black wings. Something below catches her attention, a piebald stallion gold, blue and white. The dim light reflects off of his opalescent patches and then it clicks. She knows him. Well, sort of. He had led her away once when she was younger and she followed him with a willingness that had scared her older sister who whisked her away before anything could have happened (whether it had been disastrous or fun, or both, Wrena would never know).
She is older now and not much wiser, if we’re being honest.
“Hello.” Her voice is smooth, purring. She touches down behind him and folds her reptilian wings to her side, eyeing him from a safe distance. She had missed his display of teeth earlier, but she remembers them from before, his foreboding presence in general. She shivers, both from a frigid gust of wind and the memory of walking behind him, innocently enamored with his handsome appearance and terrifying sort of nature.
@[Ivar]