08-20-2019, 07:38 AM
The concern in her voice serves only to deepen his embarrassment, and his pale face blushes as she turns his tumble into the sand into a compliment. She has doused him, but the idea of running had never once crossed his mind. If anything, it only serves to further fascinate him – as does the way she pulls away the water from his skin and sends it back to the sea.
It is a strange sensation, a tickle almost, and Pteron skin and feathers shiver even as his olive gaze follows the seawater’s glittering trail back to its origin.
“More and more impressive,” he tells her, and that is before he’s even looked back up at her. Their proximity had ranked somewhere beneath his fascination with the water magic she was weilding, but he realizes it not long after she does, just as he glances up from the wave that has swallowed the last of the water from his wings. This close, the gleam of her fin mane is captivating; it still glistens with water she has not shed. Though Pteron has never seen a horse without a mane before and might have thought it would look odd, the marine crest along Aquaria’s mane is somehow perfect for her.
The source of her color change appears to have been a trade of scales for hair, and though Pteron had been especially curious about the texture of her scales – would they feel like a fish? A snake? - he finds that both looks are pleasing to the eye. She clears her throat, and Pteron realizes that he has, once again, been staring at her for an overlong time. He accepts her compliment with an easy grin, knowing that his looks are purely luck and good genetics; he is no impossibly beautiful creature.
“No, I don’t know anyone named Vita.” Pteron tells her after a moment, trying to recall the names of the relatives he knows. It is almost entirely siblings though – perhaps this Vita a might be a more distant relation. His family has been in Beqanna for over two hundred years, after all; he has ties to nearly everyone. “I live on the Mainland,” he tells her, gesturing toward the distant northeast.
“I’ve actually never been here before, and I didn’t even plan on it. But then I saw you floating out there in the water and thought a visit might be worth my time.” He smiles then, charming in spite of his awe of her, and adds a question of his own. “Where am I, exactly? Is this Ischia? All the islands look the same from the air.”
@[Aquaria]
It is a strange sensation, a tickle almost, and Pteron skin and feathers shiver even as his olive gaze follows the seawater’s glittering trail back to its origin.
“More and more impressive,” he tells her, and that is before he’s even looked back up at her. Their proximity had ranked somewhere beneath his fascination with the water magic she was weilding, but he realizes it not long after she does, just as he glances up from the wave that has swallowed the last of the water from his wings. This close, the gleam of her fin mane is captivating; it still glistens with water she has not shed. Though Pteron has never seen a horse without a mane before and might have thought it would look odd, the marine crest along Aquaria’s mane is somehow perfect for her.
The source of her color change appears to have been a trade of scales for hair, and though Pteron had been especially curious about the texture of her scales – would they feel like a fish? A snake? - he finds that both looks are pleasing to the eye. She clears her throat, and Pteron realizes that he has, once again, been staring at her for an overlong time. He accepts her compliment with an easy grin, knowing that his looks are purely luck and good genetics; he is no impossibly beautiful creature.
“No, I don’t know anyone named Vita.” Pteron tells her after a moment, trying to recall the names of the relatives he knows. It is almost entirely siblings though – perhaps this Vita a might be a more distant relation. His family has been in Beqanna for over two hundred years, after all; he has ties to nearly everyone. “I live on the Mainland,” he tells her, gesturing toward the distant northeast.
“I’ve actually never been here before, and I didn’t even plan on it. But then I saw you floating out there in the water and thought a visit might be worth my time.” He smiles then, charming in spite of his awe of her, and adds a question of his own. “Where am I, exactly? Is this Ischia? All the islands look the same from the air.”
@[Aquaria]