“As I understand it, this whole world is magic: this place and all its reaches. From the tallest tree to the very crushing depths of its waters.” the latter carries a hiss, a strained exhale and something impossibly singsong. “Drenched in power, in life: and its source is unknown. Not a God specifically to empower it, nor a source from it to drawn: simply in on itself, it is magic.” shrugged those sloped shoulders she relaxes and tosses her head as a means to dispatch the forelock and toss it behind a ragged ear. With both eyes exposed the pearly-teal shimmered in the moonlight and she seemed to study Ivar with unfading and continued alertness.
Terse, and with not a word said between them that was unneeded: she cherishes this.
For a moment the silence lingers and those dark lips slowly pull into an almost serpentine grin, the expression while still lacking malevolence now conveyed a sort of mischief: a sense of something that might shatter the illusion of her being, and yet she continues without fear of whatever came. “But it is not yours, my mistake then, such a shame to confuse these things when the truth is: our home speaks to the very roots of our most true nature.” had she the ability a porous tentacle, fleshy and with shifting colors might’ve reached up and slithered across her face: attached to her neck and hidden within the mat of her mane; but she lacks this power, she lacks this form.
Instead she is forced to endure the weight and itch of the hair, of the scratching on her pestilent flesh and salted fur.
Teeth, fangs and serrated edges: the predatory glimmer of something carnivorous… she notices, and chuckles darkly. In another time, before her first or second deaths, she might’ve exposed the grim black beak-like fangs and plating in her mouth and the true echo and reverberation of her voice; but this is a different time.
“Oh, flattery suits your jeweled eyes and sharp teeth.” she states with a cough, with stagnant water freed from her lungs. “You have plenty of me around, after all, I am not the first nor last of my kind… you just have to know where to look.” it’s nothing of a power but with Ivar drawing closer she shifts her weight, steps forward through the light and into the darkness of the Taiga. Shadows fill in the flesh and darken what is grayed, still spotty but black she seems more alive now: filled to muscle and figure; but the obvious still remains.
Yidhra does not hesitate to slither like a krait towards him, to attempt to press her bony shoulder against his own and slide along his side so that she can round his body and feel the chill of his skin, and he… her own. Not long does she stay mobile, instead she’d settle, close and yet distant: peering out towards the moon touched waves and water, looking to Ivar with a grin. “Once upon a time, I was flesh and blood- born to parents whose wings were blacker than the night. I was without, and so I left, wandering as I pleased until the day I achieved something that no mortal could ever dream of: I saw the truth, transcended. I became something more than flesh, and for my truth I was taken to where the light can not reach.”
She purrs, and scratches a hoof into the dirt to create a small divide. “There are bones larger than the trees, and places where the great beasts slumber. You just have to step into the black, through the caves and to the deepest reaches. There are so many of me and mine down there; but I am the only one who does not dream, instead I am awake. Tell me Ivar, care to come play.” there is malevolence suddenly in how she grin, how she smiles… and she does not pose it as a question.
“And do know, if you are so keen to use your teeth: for all the bites you take, I will yet live, and one day I will repay those bites to you.” had she been human the biting of her lip might’ve been sexier, more of a tease; but even then it would’ve been something strange.
Yidhra however, does not seem to care.
Yidhra
@[Ivar] <333