The swim from Ischia to the Forest’s shore takes her a few days. She takes her time, fishing, swimming, playing with the orcas along her way. She barely wanders away from Ischia, it’s been her home her whole life, she has everything she could need there. Her family is there, well, the ones she knows anyway. Her mother, her father and brother all haunt the tropical lands in one corner or another. And she, like her father, keeps to the sea often. It is where the meat is, because unlike her father, she doesn’t eat her friends (not yet, anyway?). It’s much easier to stay close to one’s food. Although she’s been known to be keen on land loving meat too – the occasional deer, or rabbit. She licks her lips, mmm, venison. She ponders the thought of snatching something a bit more than fish.
She stays far beneath the toiling waves, the moonlight hanging bright above the curling and crashing waves of the silvery lit sea. Her teeth glow big and brilliant, their long and sharp profile obvious, her eyes lighting the same glowing blue. She swims fast under the surface, her kelpie form streamlined for the water, she’s truly at home in the sea, graceful, lightening quick. She breaks the surface, popping her head up to look toward the beach. It’s empty, the moon lighting it up so she can see that no one haunts the sands in front of the dense forest.
She approaches and climbs from the waves, her kelpie form slipping away as she emerges. She’s a full horse, bay with her darkened blue points, glowing mismatched eyes. The only thing she keeps are random patches of scales and her sharp, sharp glowing teeth. It makes her feel a bit safer to have them instead of the simple blunt ones of a regular horse. And when hunting, of course, best to have your weapons ready.
Seaweed still clinging to her neatly braided mane, the seawater dripping from her dark coat, she stalks forward into the dark Forest.
C L A U D I A
ivar x wrena
open to anyone
she's just wanderin around