11-18-2018, 02:05 PM
The genie blinks open dark eyes, and for a moment her pupils are whirling golden vortices, impossibly mobile and like nothing more than black holes, drawing in everything near. But then she blinks and they are just brown. A darker hue than usual, but still a soft and natural shade. She smiles, the expression tugging at the edges of her rosey mouth, and presses a soft and reassuring touch to the boy curled at her feet.
“We’re safe here.” She replies, “and it feels peaceful.” This last observation is partially hope and partially magic, and Djinni turns to look out at the rolling pampas that spreads before them. A few horses graze here and there, evidence that the land is claimed but apparently not stricken with violence the way one might expect of Sylva. Thinking of the forest, the djinn glances in the opposite direction, finding the fiery forest along the horizon with little difficulty. The geography might have changed, but some things remain the same.
“Did you want to remain in Nerine?” Djinni asks softly, glancing up at the golden stallion with questioning eyes. “Rivka did, but I didn’t ask you. I thought you’d want to be safe with the baby and I.” Cor had just been ‘the baby’ then, a nameless roundness of her barrel. He’d been a surprise, the result of her distraction and their amorous affection. But as soon as she’d laid eyes on him she’d felt that same surge of emotion, that ache of responsibility and adoration.
“This seemed a better haven than the frozen island up north,” The dun mare adds with a smile, “And I'd never been a fan of the tropics.” There is a reason she'd not been an Amazon; Djinni has had enough of endless heat to last her six hundred more lifetimes.
“We’re safe here.” She replies, “and it feels peaceful.” This last observation is partially hope and partially magic, and Djinni turns to look out at the rolling pampas that spreads before them. A few horses graze here and there, evidence that the land is claimed but apparently not stricken with violence the way one might expect of Sylva. Thinking of the forest, the djinn glances in the opposite direction, finding the fiery forest along the horizon with little difficulty. The geography might have changed, but some things remain the same.
“Did you want to remain in Nerine?” Djinni asks softly, glancing up at the golden stallion with questioning eyes. “Rivka did, but I didn’t ask you. I thought you’d want to be safe with the baby and I.” Cor had just been ‘the baby’ then, a nameless roundness of her barrel. He’d been a surprise, the result of her distraction and their amorous affection. But as soon as she’d laid eyes on him she’d felt that same surge of emotion, that ache of responsibility and adoration.
“This seemed a better haven than the frozen island up north,” The dun mare adds with a smile, “And I'd never been a fan of the tropics.” There is a reason she'd not been an Amazon; Djinni has had enough of endless heat to last her six hundred more lifetimes.
D J I N N I
genie | rose gold tobiano dun | trickster