a sea of stars; warrick

[Warrick]

like the sun swallowed up by the earth

He is at peace beneath the starlight, the faint silver of their very being pooling into the shadows of his neck and shoulders, touching the bay-blue stallion with familiarity and tenderness. The placement of the constellations above him let him know that autumn has arrived within all Beqanna, though the intense and sweltering heat of Tephra remains unchanging. However, the night brings a certain coolness that is unfamiliar but welcoming, a gentle salty breeze flitting across his body and tugging softly at the cobalt of his feathers.

The Overseer normally positions himself to stand at the ocean’s mouth, his indigo legs melting into the blackness of the volcanic beach as the frothing waters push and pull at his hooves, splashing salt and brine onto his auburn skin. But tonight he finds himself in the mainland, with crisp grasses brushing at his underbelly and scratching at his legs, the glow of the streams of magma illuminating him with colors of orange and red. He smells strongly of the sea and the ash that filters through the volcano’s plumage, though tonight the glowing mountain is still and quiet, much like Warrick himself.

“It has never been something that finds me easily,” he admits to the voice that comes from the shadows of the grasses, their golden shoots parting for her as she moves to him. Pale gold with splashes of alabaster, the stallion turns his blue gaze to take in the sight of Femur, his eyes softening for just a moment as she reminds him not only of their first meeting (the bloodied and broken dove upon the shore), but also of his children, who are somewhere else entirely - together, he hopes.

Meeting beneath the moonlight, with the gentleness of mid-autumn’s moon on their backs and the streams of lava warming their legs, Warrick takes a moment to consider the pale woman a bit more closely than he did during their attempts at a rescue. She smells of the deeper parts of Tephra, of hidden caverns and (though not entirely surprising) children. The familiar scent of Longclaw, the iridescent blue stallion that he has seen quite often patrolling the borders, with his blue fire, is the strongest on her skin and though he barely knows her, the idea pleases him.

“What is it that brings you out tonight, Femur? Are you as restless as I am?”

Warrick

@[Femur] <3