the girl, she's hiding horns; any

[Leokadia]

she got blood cold as ice
and a heart made of stone

There may be some variation in born feathered pegasi, as it seems some infants are able to fly almost as  soon as they are able to walk, very unlike birds. Others come into the world with wings that must be grown and made strong enough for use. Leokadia is unsure which she was meant to be as the circumstances of her birth were far from ideal. The period that followed absent the one person who would have known. She had possessed fuzzy, downy, too small appendages that had grown slowly over years until they could be relied upon to bear her into the sky. There are a few scars from the unguided years during which she taught herself to use the wings. They are indeed beautiful wings, incredibly beautiful, with their vastness and creamy white feathers. Ciri’s compliment feels like a charity, but when their eyes meet Lo does not detect anything disingenuous. Only kindness, but she does not bristle against it.

They are crossing the river then, and Lo drifts away a bit to let the water carry off the caked mud and dust on her wings. Like a bird she snakes her head just beneath the surface and raises it again with a shake. Clay-colored water streams down the sculpted planes of her face and the mane-less curve of her neck as she returns to Ciri, her voice clear over the sound of water. “I like to fly, but you are down here.” It is a matter-of-fact response, but a chill flies across her skin. Is the water colder? She remembers flirting with Brunhilde in this same river and quickly seeks the other shore. Not because there is any emotional attachment to the recollection, but because of what it meant for her, the self-discovery of that long ago meeting. Little more than an exchange of words, but enough to change her forever.

Water runs off of her wings and body in noisy rivulets, muddying the river's edge she bounds up to. Her cremello hide reflects the sunlight, bright and wet with rivers of earthy red settling along muscle and bone and dripping from the ends of her tail. Shaking out her wings casts a fine spray out around Leokadia, and she straightens only one or two feathers before folding her wings snugly up onto her back and off of the ground. "It occurs to me that there are times when someone is worth walking alongside even if flight is the only thing that will take you where you want to go." This is not one of those times, the isle is clearly accessible to anyone with four legs. Leokadia is thinking about something else entirely, and this is not a revelation she is prepared to contend with. Not right now, not ever.

"Which way from here?" she sidesteps to give Ciri room, to let her lead them off, to put space between the two of them. Space she feels a little too aware of, like noticing you are breathing and trying not to forget to do so for a while afterwards. "How long have you lived on the isle? Do you have family.. a family there?" Her low, lovely voice is casual, careful.

but she keeps me alive
she's the beast in my bones

Leokadia

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