09-07-2020, 09:32 PM
She watches the treetops beyond her little meadow sway erratically from side to side, and she imagines with a smile that there are giants wandering beneath them. Strange, enormous beasts like hulking bears except the fur is coarse like straw and the teeth are decidedly less sharp as she closes her eyes and imagines them plucking leaves from the lowest branches. They would be friendly beasts, she decides, so maybe not beasts at all. Just giants pushing tree trunks aside as they walk in the same way the tallest flowers move aside when she moves past.
But she knows it is just the same wind that blows against her back and lifts her dark mane in silken whorls like spun shadowsilk. She can see it race across the meadow, touching the top of each faded flower as they bend and sway and bow beneath a scrubbed blue sky. Aureline smiles again, closing pale brown eyes that are almost amber for the way the shade seems to trap light within. She breathes in the fresh air and the faded scent of flower petals, listens to the whispering of leaves in distant trees. But when she opens her eyes again, she is still alone.
Her dark mouth curves in a frown as she climbs to her feet and looks around, shaking her head once to free her eyes from the wisps of black forelock. She faces west first, tilting that delicate head like she’s listening, and then changes her mind and faces north again - and she is listening, but it is not to any sound that weaves beneath wind and birdsong, it is to the web of voices in her mind that always keep her company. She likes this ability far more than her mother ever had, and with far less guilt at knowing things meant to be secret.
She shifts, and the rich buckskin darkens to black as the fur thickens and lengthens, soft like velvet in this panther form. The wings remain, though all the feathers deepen to black as she lifts them with a satisfied rumble in her delicate chest. In the sunlight, the white marking on her face is still visible in this form - an almost diamond of white with eight lines reaching outwards. She is certain she gets this from her father, and though he wears his sun inside, evident by the heat of him and the way he glows throughout every night, she is no less proud to have her own sun traced over her brows. To be marked like someone she loves so much.
A few loping strides carry her across the small meadow before she bursts from the flowers, held aloft in her panther form by the dark wings flung outwards. In truth she is far less adept at flying than her easy faith would imply, but as it is, she does not crash back down. Her long tail brushes through the tallest petals until it is yellow at the end with soft pollen, and then with another beat she lifts higher, climbing until she finally spots someone standing beneath a large oak.
Delight warms in her as she descends again, landing carefully on the branch above the horse as graceful as any panther. She sits and peers down, her tail a long hook beneath her and her claws dug into the bark to keep her balanced there without falling on her face, which would absolutely give the wrong impression. Then her wings fold in and shrink to a size too small to fly with, but easier to manage for sitting purposes, and she beams down at this stranger with a smile that is bright and delighted and comically full of sharp teeth. “Hi! I’m Aureline.”
But she knows it is just the same wind that blows against her back and lifts her dark mane in silken whorls like spun shadowsilk. She can see it race across the meadow, touching the top of each faded flower as they bend and sway and bow beneath a scrubbed blue sky. Aureline smiles again, closing pale brown eyes that are almost amber for the way the shade seems to trap light within. She breathes in the fresh air and the faded scent of flower petals, listens to the whispering of leaves in distant trees. But when she opens her eyes again, she is still alone.
Her dark mouth curves in a frown as she climbs to her feet and looks around, shaking her head once to free her eyes from the wisps of black forelock. She faces west first, tilting that delicate head like she’s listening, and then changes her mind and faces north again - and she is listening, but it is not to any sound that weaves beneath wind and birdsong, it is to the web of voices in her mind that always keep her company. She likes this ability far more than her mother ever had, and with far less guilt at knowing things meant to be secret.
She shifts, and the rich buckskin darkens to black as the fur thickens and lengthens, soft like velvet in this panther form. The wings remain, though all the feathers deepen to black as she lifts them with a satisfied rumble in her delicate chest. In the sunlight, the white marking on her face is still visible in this form - an almost diamond of white with eight lines reaching outwards. She is certain she gets this from her father, and though he wears his sun inside, evident by the heat of him and the way he glows throughout every night, she is no less proud to have her own sun traced over her brows. To be marked like someone she loves so much.
A few loping strides carry her across the small meadow before she bursts from the flowers, held aloft in her panther form by the dark wings flung outwards. In truth she is far less adept at flying than her easy faith would imply, but as it is, she does not crash back down. Her long tail brushes through the tallest petals until it is yellow at the end with soft pollen, and then with another beat she lifts higher, climbing until she finally spots someone standing beneath a large oak.
Delight warms in her as she descends again, landing carefully on the branch above the horse as graceful as any panther. She sits and peers down, her tail a long hook beneath her and her claws dug into the bark to keep her balanced there without falling on her face, which would absolutely give the wrong impression. Then her wings fold in and shrink to a size too small to fly with, but easier to manage for sitting purposes, and she beams down at this stranger with a smile that is bright and delighted and comically full of sharp teeth. “Hi! I’m Aureline.”
aureline
dear wilderness, be at your best
her armor is thin as the fabric of her dress
@[savage]