10-26-2025, 06:48 PM
FAZIA
The mare that approaches Fazia could almost be a Baltian, there is undeniably an otherworldly aura to her — and not like the angels in the sky. Something earthy, dark, and beautiful. A fine distraction from the ice that had delayed her from her hunt. Which she feels put out about having not truly completed – she was looking forward to playing the hunter.
Then again, hadn’t her parents taught her there are many ways to hunt?
Content with her ability to spin the situation back into one where she feels as though she is in control, Fazia relaxes. Anticipation is coiling up within her heart. She pictures it as an eel, vivid yellow with rows of sharp teeth, though another animal may be more apt for this situation.
If she paid enough attention to herself she would know this means she doesn’t have long before she does something to snap the boredom. Before actions leap without adequate thought and she enjoys another freefall created from her own rash behaviour. There’s little enough reason to learn about consequences and her own behaviour when every bit of trouble she has gotten into so far has been bested.
“The cold is disgusting.” She wants to sound more eloquent, but Fazia doesn’t know the right words to weave together to present such a facade. So she has to settle for honesty and the bluntness of her own voice. That, at least, comes easily. “I like when the water flows and I can slip beneath its surface rather than across it.”
And there it is, the moment. The idea pops into her head and Fazia doesn’t hesitate. She doesn’t wait to see if another, better opportunity might come up. This one is ripe and right in front of her and the translucent mare takes it between her sharp teeth eagerly.
That alien new presence in her body, the one she got from the Mountain, reaches out. Silver-pupilled eyes are intent on the mare but in her mind she is imagining possessing this elegant stranger into taking a step on to the ice to prove how slippery it is.
Then again, hadn’t her parents taught her there are many ways to hunt?
Content with her ability to spin the situation back into one where she feels as though she is in control, Fazia relaxes. Anticipation is coiling up within her heart. She pictures it as an eel, vivid yellow with rows of sharp teeth, though another animal may be more apt for this situation.
If she paid enough attention to herself she would know this means she doesn’t have long before she does something to snap the boredom. Before actions leap without adequate thought and she enjoys another freefall created from her own rash behaviour. There’s little enough reason to learn about consequences and her own behaviour when every bit of trouble she has gotten into so far has been bested.
“The cold is disgusting.” She wants to sound more eloquent, but Fazia doesn’t know the right words to weave together to present such a facade. So she has to settle for honesty and the bluntness of her own voice. That, at least, comes easily. “I like when the water flows and I can slip beneath its surface rather than across it.”
And there it is, the moment. The idea pops into her head and Fazia doesn’t hesitate. She doesn’t wait to see if another, better opportunity might come up. This one is ripe and right in front of her and the translucent mare takes it between her sharp teeth eagerly.
That alien new presence in her body, the one she got from the Mountain, reaches out. Silver-pupilled eyes are intent on the mare but in her mind she is imagining possessing this elegant stranger into taking a step on to the ice to prove how slippery it is.
@Severe