Tephra is home to Jude: untamed and wild, beautiful and dangerous (so like her, befitting). She spends most of her days within its borders, lazily watching Myrkari and Cosmos as they explore in their bizarre and individual ways. Her children are strange, though she could she really expect anything else? Jude has no idea how to mother, to protect, or to teach. The two babes may have been given a little too much room to develop on their own. She thinks she quite likes their oddities, though - no matter that their freedom may one day be detrimental.
The sun falls languidly in endless hues of pink and orange and red. Luscious green plants and blue flowers melt into purple twilight as the pegasus passes, large leaves parting to allow her coat to blend into the skyline. Her comfort here does not go unnoticed: creatures do not seem to mind her careful steps and upon first glance she looks like yet another bush of exotic flowers. If Tephra could change one’s DNA, it certainly has changed Jude’s.
It is complacency that Jude feels, though. As captivating as a Tephra sunset may be, it is one that she watches night after night, wondering what it may be like to study each land’s sunset. Complacency that turns to guilt: that is what the pegasus chews on, the two feelings mushing and souring and eventually poisoning the pit of her stomach. She cannot enjoy the sun as it falls, cannot enjoy the way she fades into the light, cannot enjoy the sweet breeze as it attempts to cool her stress.
Oh, how bored she is - even more bored than before she moved to Tephra.
That is why when Aysel slinks forward, silken and mysterious, Jude buzzes with delight. The Amazon is not a stranger, but she is certainly not terribly familiar, and the air around her hangs heavily with secrets Jude is dying to know. The jaguar speaks, supple voice breaking the dense captivation the pegasus feels. She blinks, slowly, turning her head ever-so-slightly to the right and allowing a shark’s smile to raise her lips. An Amazon, she thinks, how fitting. The smile disappears as if it was never there, replaced by a soft line and sparkling eyes.
“Aysel . . . suits you,” she begins, side-stepping closer. “My name is Peregrine Jude - Jude for short.”
There is no formality in the way the pale pink woman moves or speaks: she continues to inch closer, stretching her nape upward to brush her dainty nose against Aysel’s regal one, wry smile twisting shyly across her mouth. She does feel a bit timid, though one would only be able to tell if they note the quick way she draws away and averts her eyes. Jude drags her eyes back up and -
“Magnus has spoken of your Amazons in passing - a time I wish I knew,” her accent drawls low, rising delicately on her vowels, just a touch forlorn in their intent. “Do you miss your Jungle?” a murmur, nearly lost on the summer chirping of insects, prodding delicately at the shadows that surround Aysel.
@[Aysel]