07-26-2017, 07:04 PM
A familiar scent clings in the air today. Her sooted crown rises from the turf as her eyes scan the horizon. Horns seated atop her skull twist as his voice calls out. It is to familiar and grin creases her ebony lips.
She is in no rush today. Ebony legs move her frame steadily thru the thick forests of Sylva. Bending and twisting through the tangle of bark and brush. Her eyes see little in the short distances provided but his scent gives her a true path. Leaves crunch underfoot creating the only sounds of her coming. Scattered light filters through the canopies above, dancing across her gold and ash coat. She wonders if he will recognize her even. No longer the auburn and black child he'd remember her as.
The others reach him before she does, she can hear them chatting. Two are familiar and one is not, though she can about guess who it is. The Prince of Sylva. She wasn't naive enough to assume Stillwater has not created lineage with Djinni. She is surprised there aren't more of the little bastards running about... yet. Her ears swivel to catch tid bits of their discussion - politics - eh bore. It was her promised duty to support the lands in political venues so the newcomer being blood was circumstantial. Welcomed circumstance though.
Soon a voice quiets within the group just as she breaks to view them. A cloud of pixie dust engulfs the pied mare, leaving the young prince to carry on the conversation. She halts to observe the trio become a duo. Dark eyes view the blood bay. He looks as he always has, not aging a day. She has aged though. She has also magically changed colors. Would he put it all together though?
Beginning her stride again she sets her destination to the side of the colts. Coming up behind him but facing the bay. Surely that was the more important one to know of her advance, if the other should not realize her approaching. "Sorry I'm late," her voice breaks into their conversation. Lacking consideration and formalities, per usual. If that hadn't given her identity away nothing would...
She is in no rush today. Ebony legs move her frame steadily thru the thick forests of Sylva. Bending and twisting through the tangle of bark and brush. Her eyes see little in the short distances provided but his scent gives her a true path. Leaves crunch underfoot creating the only sounds of her coming. Scattered light filters through the canopies above, dancing across her gold and ash coat. She wonders if he will recognize her even. No longer the auburn and black child he'd remember her as.
The others reach him before she does, she can hear them chatting. Two are familiar and one is not, though she can about guess who it is. The Prince of Sylva. She wasn't naive enough to assume Stillwater has not created lineage with Djinni. She is surprised there aren't more of the little bastards running about... yet. Her ears swivel to catch tid bits of their discussion - politics - eh bore. It was her promised duty to support the lands in political venues so the newcomer being blood was circumstantial. Welcomed circumstance though.
Soon a voice quiets within the group just as she breaks to view them. A cloud of pixie dust engulfs the pied mare, leaving the young prince to carry on the conversation. She halts to observe the trio become a duo. Dark eyes view the blood bay. He looks as he always has, not aging a day. She has aged though. She has also magically changed colors. Would he put it all together though?
Beginning her stride again she sets her destination to the side of the colts. Coming up behind him but facing the bay. Surely that was the more important one to know of her advance, if the other should not realize her approaching. "Sorry I'm late," her voice breaks into their conversation. Lacking consideration and formalities, per usual. If that hadn't given her identity away nothing would...
Karaugh
illicit daughter of nymphetamine and killgore
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