06-29-2021, 11:48 AM
She is not doing much when Sabra comes for her like a thunderstorm, making her pause in preening the bright chestnut red of her feathers, their edges gleaming like fire in the flickering light and her amber eyes find the mare's strange blue gaze in silence. The monstergirl tips her head to one side, then to the other, measuring, tongue pressed against the rough roof of her open beak. There's a taste like chaos in the air.
Manikin is not a biddable creature, but Sabra's electric disarray feeds her curiosity and some nameless other thing that she does not bother to brood too deeply on. Her first milk tasted of lightning and restlessness and fury, and there is carved inside of her space for just such a creature as the candy-colored spear-bearer. Still, the hippogryph is not eager to follow orders, and so she stays in her place until the mystery of it becomes too great a draw, and then, at last, she stands, and she shakes, and she traces the sharp chlorine scent to where the others are slowly gathering, little clouds coming together ahead of the storm.
Manikin is not a biddable creature, but Sabra's electric disarray feeds her curiosity and some nameless other thing that she does not bother to brood too deeply on. Her first milk tasted of lightning and restlessness and fury, and there is carved inside of her space for just such a creature as the candy-colored spear-bearer. Still, the hippogryph is not eager to follow orders, and so she stays in her place until the mystery of it becomes too great a draw, and then, at last, she stands, and she shakes, and she traces the sharp chlorine scent to where the others are slowly gathering, little clouds coming together ahead of the storm.