05-22-2021, 03:19 PM
Nikoline
with stoutest wrists and loudest boasts,
he thrusts his fists against the posts
and still insists he sees the ghosts.
It's unfortunate that the crumble or engraved rules should be the reason to wake her but she was something bigger than the skin that enclosed. In other worlds she is a nymphette of unexplained magic. Her body melded of horse and plant, she does not have to hide or try to make the others understand. they just accept that she is what she is...nothing more. But here in the place of her birth. she is limited and contorted to be something of acceptance in the standards that are written. Outside of Beqanna, she has lived multiples lives, crossed multiple dimensions and completely shed the image of a plain little Nikoline that has nothing to offer but now that the world has shifted and the rift has opened, she dares to return.
Niko had been tending her plants, singing a small lullaby before the moon rose full and pregnant when she felt the shift in Beqanna. It was a misstep of her heartbeat, a flutter, something uncaged. Niko acknowledges it with a push of her mind and she slips behind closed eyes to view it all. Nikoline watches the laws fade and crumble, the world as they knew is askew and the time feels right to return and visit in the window of opportunity.
The softly glowing silver mare enters the rift to return. It is no longer painless to jump from life to life, world to world. Nikoline steps from a seam of light upon her wooden points in a soundless display of movement. She is perfumed by the blossoming cherry blossoms in her mane with wide, dark doe eyes attempting to see all that she could. It's not much longer before she notices the pale man standing with a hint of malice in his eye. She can feel a vibration radiating. It's seeing like that of a chained wolf, beckoning the hand closer to snap. Nikoline in the past would have feared him, ran for ehr very life, but she is metamorphized to something greater, something stronger.
The mare dares to near him, a scent heavy of masculine pheromones seeping from his pores. He not of great height but his presence commands her attention. They look odd near one another as her whimsy is not met by his scars. Despite her own unearthly and odd company, she offers conversation. "Hello." She delivers softly, nearly a whisper on the spring breeze. she smells of fresh spring rain, lavender, and cherry blossoms and the smile on her dark lips are painted with warmth as she waits for his acknowledgment.
Speech, @tagged
((maybe not his cup of tea, but let's see what happens?))