05-12-2022, 11:25 PM
The black sand of the beach is perfect for landing, and Malik touches down not far from where he had arrived on his first visit to the Silver Cove. This time, there is no piebald stallion waiting to greet him, and this time, he is not alone. A griffin lands beside him, the creature’s iridescent black feathers a perfect match for Malik’s.
The pegasus folds his glowing wings, and as he does they disappear into his sides, leaving only a mantle of shiny black feathers across his withers. The iridescent stripes of his black hide glow faintly, outshone by the bright light that emanates from Malik’s left horn. The lower tine had been damaged, and the glowing core exposed. It makes him nearly impossible to miss, and so he most often shifts it to something less brilliant like the tines of an elk or the spiral ram’s horn that he dons now, the right horn retaining its tined shape.
Beside him the griffon stretches out the long claws of its dark feet, then looks up at the black stallion curiously.
They’re here today to find something of the Cove’s silver deer, and his companion has already cautioned Malik. They can find an antler, the griffon had suggested, something simple. Malik had acquiesced at the time, and even now means to keep to the plan. Perhaps he can even find someone who lives here, someone who might tell him where to look to find something for the fairies.
He lifts his bi-colored gaze, searching for someone, or perhaps a trail that will take him to a more populated part of the land.
The pegasus folds his glowing wings, and as he does they disappear into his sides, leaving only a mantle of shiny black feathers across his withers. The iridescent stripes of his black hide glow faintly, outshone by the bright light that emanates from Malik’s left horn. The lower tine had been damaged, and the glowing core exposed. It makes him nearly impossible to miss, and so he most often shifts it to something less brilliant like the tines of an elk or the spiral ram’s horn that he dons now, the right horn retaining its tined shape.
Beside him the griffon stretches out the long claws of its dark feet, then looks up at the black stallion curiously.
They’re here today to find something of the Cove’s silver deer, and his companion has already cautioned Malik. They can find an antler, the griffon had suggested, something simple. Malik had acquiesced at the time, and even now means to keep to the plan. Perhaps he can even find someone who lives here, someone who might tell him where to look to find something for the fairies.
He lifts his bi-colored gaze, searching for someone, or perhaps a trail that will take him to a more populated part of the land.