02-19-2019, 09:46 AM
Just the sound of her begrudging acceptance is all Wyrm needs to flash a withered, toothy smile. Once he might’ve been considered attractive; handsome by anyone’s standards here in Beqanna. Now his body seemed to match the ugly hidden away inside. A grin only served to enhance the already unusually creepy habits he took with him wherever Wyrm went.
Not to be mistaken for ill intentions, the shape-shifter twists his lips again and goes back to adopting his trademark stoicism. Heartfire could hardly stand him as-is, he couldn’t see a reason to irritate her further by acting like a giddy colt. “You have nothing at all to concern yourself with.” The shimmering blue stallion murmured shakily, stepping out from his sunken position and back up to stand topside again, “But be my guest, watch us all you like little eavesdropper.” He taunts her mildly.
Shifting his legs and schooling his face, Wyrm comes to stand with three hooves firmly squared and one hind leg stretched ever so slightly back. He tilts his head, angles his face away so that only a single eyeless socket could be observed by the female overseer, and readies himself like a famous individual prepping to have their photo taken.
This is probably the most fun he’s had in … ages.
For a moment he holds his breath and the Forest seems to grow quiet around the two of them. He remembers waking up so long ago, his shifting stripped bare and only immortality to keep him going. He remembers seeing Heartfire then - the first horse he’d come across after the reckoning - and how he’d known that it was her, it would always be her that suited him best.
He sighs, the moment ends, and with a soft grunt the old beast relaxes again. “I’m aware that you’ve … moved on. With your life and your descendants.” Wyrm rumbles, “Were I a younger horse …” He muses blindly, knowing now that if he stepped in close to brush his mouth across her cheek she might just take his throat in exchange.
No, best to leave on a good note. “I owe you one.” The shifter says finally, hunching his back to sprout two brown-barred wings. Feathers peel up and fluff out from his chest and belly, his tail shrinks away and folds itself into more stiff plumage, bits and pieces of his body alter and mold themselves like clay. The iridescent male changes into a common barn owl. “See you never!” The smaller creature trills, a joke within a joke as his eyebrows lift over haunting, empty eyeholes.
Wyrm takes flight, a silent and soft exit like his entrance, soaring right through the trunks and branches which would stop any regular traveler. He never looks back; he only sees what lies ahead.
@[Heartfire]
Not to be mistaken for ill intentions, the shape-shifter twists his lips again and goes back to adopting his trademark stoicism. Heartfire could hardly stand him as-is, he couldn’t see a reason to irritate her further by acting like a giddy colt. “You have nothing at all to concern yourself with.” The shimmering blue stallion murmured shakily, stepping out from his sunken position and back up to stand topside again, “But be my guest, watch us all you like little eavesdropper.” He taunts her mildly.
Shifting his legs and schooling his face, Wyrm comes to stand with three hooves firmly squared and one hind leg stretched ever so slightly back. He tilts his head, angles his face away so that only a single eyeless socket could be observed by the female overseer, and readies himself like a famous individual prepping to have their photo taken.
This is probably the most fun he’s had in … ages.
For a moment he holds his breath and the Forest seems to grow quiet around the two of them. He remembers waking up so long ago, his shifting stripped bare and only immortality to keep him going. He remembers seeing Heartfire then - the first horse he’d come across after the reckoning - and how he’d known that it was her, it would always be her that suited him best.
He sighs, the moment ends, and with a soft grunt the old beast relaxes again. “I’m aware that you’ve … moved on. With your life and your descendants.” Wyrm rumbles, “Were I a younger horse …” He muses blindly, knowing now that if he stepped in close to brush his mouth across her cheek she might just take his throat in exchange.
No, best to leave on a good note. “I owe you one.” The shifter says finally, hunching his back to sprout two brown-barred wings. Feathers peel up and fluff out from his chest and belly, his tail shrinks away and folds itself into more stiff plumage, bits and pieces of his body alter and mold themselves like clay. The iridescent male changes into a common barn owl. “See you never!” The smaller creature trills, a joke within a joke as his eyebrows lift over haunting, empty eyeholes.
Wyrm takes flight, a silent and soft exit like his entrance, soaring right through the trunks and branches which would stop any regular traveler. He never looks back; he only sees what lies ahead.
@[Heartfire]