halcyon
a tight-pressed line keeping
a wildfire on the inside
a wildfire on the inside
Despite his familiarity with Beqanna, Halcyon has still grown increasingly nervous the further he has traveled from Ischia. The tiger-shifter had certainly never touted his wanderlust, or lack thereof, but a promise had been made to contribute to his island home now that he is old enough to do so, and he knows well enough that the Field is the superlative place to begin.
He has traveled eastward in his tiger form, his massive feline paws moving swiftly but silently across the terrain. By the time he has arrived in the Field, greeted by long verdant grasses and blooming springtime blossoms, the young man is equal parts fatigued and nervous. He stands, squared, with his claws digging into the soft loam beneath him as his green feline eyes survey the expanse before him.
Certainly, he should shift from feline to equine to keep from startling his quarry, but he balks ─ he is not comfortable wearing his dun and blue coat, or his blunted prey's teeth, outside of Ischia. Or without Aquaria beside him. His tri-colored feline frame is his home in many ways.
Halcyon is in luck, though (or misfortune), as the internal war is pushed from his mind. He's suddenly bumped by the painted body of a woman about his age (namely, just young enough to not seem too adult-ish just yet) and he stumbles to correct his posture, his lengthy feline tail flicking in brief agitation. Halcyon turns his slit-pupil eyes towards the woman as she issues her apology and he smiles pleasantly in response ─ and then dampens it, when he remembers that his whetted predator's teeth are exposed.
“I am. Are you?” he asks politely before his eyes wander over her shoulder briefly. His gaze returns to her blue eyes. “Were you being chased?” The question comes out braver than he feels ─ and he secretly hopes that she had not been giving chase, though there is comfort in the fact that a pursuer may change their mind in the face of a dangerous cat.
@[Aoibhe]
“”
He has traveled eastward in his tiger form, his massive feline paws moving swiftly but silently across the terrain. By the time he has arrived in the Field, greeted by long verdant grasses and blooming springtime blossoms, the young man is equal parts fatigued and nervous. He stands, squared, with his claws digging into the soft loam beneath him as his green feline eyes survey the expanse before him.
Certainly, he should shift from feline to equine to keep from startling his quarry, but he balks ─ he is not comfortable wearing his dun and blue coat, or his blunted prey's teeth, outside of Ischia. Or without Aquaria beside him. His tri-colored feline frame is his home in many ways.
Halcyon is in luck, though (or misfortune), as the internal war is pushed from his mind. He's suddenly bumped by the painted body of a woman about his age (namely, just young enough to not seem too adult-ish just yet) and he stumbles to correct his posture, his lengthy feline tail flicking in brief agitation. Halcyon turns his slit-pupil eyes towards the woman as she issues her apology and he smiles pleasantly in response ─ and then dampens it, when he remembers that his whetted predator's teeth are exposed.
“I am. Are you?” he asks politely before his eyes wander over her shoulder briefly. His gaze returns to her blue eyes. “Were you being chased?” The question comes out braver than he feels ─ and he secretly hopes that she had not been giving chase, though there is comfort in the fact that a pursuer may change their mind in the face of a dangerous cat.
“”