Does he look at her as the wolf does prey? Wide eyed in the shine of the moon. The clamor of the river over the rocks deadens the sound of his downwind approach. He calls to her - clearly equine in voice - but when she sets her sights upon him, she is startled by the curiosity that floods her.
Antlers, wings, leonine tail, and those golden, predatory eyes - an aggregation of many creatures into one.
Narcisa dips her head in greeting, admitting him into her presence with a delicate simper upon her lips. She listens carefully to his voice as it mingles with the frothy rapids at their feet. She is, perhaps, as he says: a spectre of white come to float betwixt the trees and old stones. She has drifted for so long - banished and desolate.
“Nor I.” she returns in a voice that almost sounds like many. And it is true: she has never seen anything quite as curious as the creature that stands before her. Her pupiless eyes trail the length of his antlers down to his eyes, allowing a brief silence to mingle between them. “I am Narcisa.” She steps closer, appraising him as the antelope does the lion - unsure of whether to balk or to satisfy her curiosity.
“What god created you?” she asks, venturing to touch the fur of his shoulder as if to test his tangibility.
@[Nodens]
Antlers, wings, leonine tail, and those golden, predatory eyes - an aggregation of many creatures into one.
Narcisa dips her head in greeting, admitting him into her presence with a delicate simper upon her lips. She listens carefully to his voice as it mingles with the frothy rapids at their feet. She is, perhaps, as he says: a spectre of white come to float betwixt the trees and old stones. She has drifted for so long - banished and desolate.
“Nor I.” she returns in a voice that almost sounds like many. And it is true: she has never seen anything quite as curious as the creature that stands before her. Her pupiless eyes trail the length of his antlers down to his eyes, allowing a brief silence to mingle between them. “I am Narcisa.” She steps closer, appraising him as the antelope does the lion - unsure of whether to balk or to satisfy her curiosity.
“What god created you?” she asks, venturing to touch the fur of his shoulder as if to test his tangibility.
@[Nodens]