lupei
What the truth is, I can't say anymore
To be color-blind in Lupei’s world would be a terrible curse. From the moment he opens his eyes in the morning to the second he closes them again at night, everything is drenched in resplendent color. He was born with the ocean reflected on his coat and two bodies to control. The eyes of his horse form see one world of color, and the eyes of his wolf form see another. Predator and prey, struggling against each other internally while he enjoys the perks of both.
This day in particular isn’t so much devoid of life as it is draining of it. Winter was a sinister season for him, incredibly droll and barren of life, color. Autumn, however, was a brilliant transition that was physically pleasing to his body and his senses. It was a good season for the young stallion, and he revels in it by stalking along the meadow with an easy, ground-eating walk. He’s not looking for anything in particular, rather, something finds him instead.
It’s her coat - eye-catching and as brilliant as the setting sun - that draws him to a complete stop some feet away. She’s something of a perfection, so much so that Lupei tilts his head and perks his ears, holds his breath and blinks as if to make sure she’s not some mirage. But she’s not, she’s clearly living, and as her impossibly beautiful nose dips to the earth so that she can blow some clutter of foliage out of her way, Lupei can’t stop himself from moving towards her.
“Please tell me that you’re real.” He pleads as he comes to a stop in front of her. His lips twitch, a faint smile working around the edges of his mouth. She’s a mare, he reasons to himself, only a mare. There was nothing that should be making him this uncomfortable. But without meaning to she does make him rather uncomfortable, and the young wolf can’t decide if it’s a good feeling or a bad one.
