[open] show and tell

[Bardot]

Bardot

I know what sin is

It’s not surprising to find the little unicorn with her buttermilk back submerged beneath the murky rushing water. She’s not sure when she had become this river creature, there were none like it in the jungle she had once loved, but she is drawn here time and time again. Like a moth to a flame, she comes to the riverbank time and time again. Does it have to do with questionable memories that she holds regarding those troubled and dark men she had a habit of running into? Or did she simply just enjoy being clean, the feeling of the stream pushing against her body, the delicious chill that follows when the air hit her damp coat? She had decided to winter in the Pampas this year after her rather tense reunion with her lost half-brother but unfortunately the small streams that wind through the wildflowers weren't deep enough to fully bathe in, so she had made the trip today with the intention of returning shortly. It had been an easy decision to ride out winter there. One reason was the milder season but mostly she fully intended on trying to push past whatever barriers Obscene had thrown up at her. She would wear him down, one way or another.  Her tarnished gaze had caught the dark figure in the sky but she doesn’t pay it much heed when it disappears beneath the copse of nearby woodland. Winged horses were a dime a dozen in Beqanna, it would take much more than a pegasus to make her look twice. She sighs softly, closing her eyes as she lowers herself a little further and is careful to not let her hooves get suctioned into the soft mud below. Autumn was nearing its end and the water was colder than she liked without the brilliant sun to warm it, so eventually she removes herself, shivering slightly as the cool air caresses her wet skin. There is a feeling of being watched as she shakes droplets from her flowered mane, snapping her vined tail against her haunches and sending a few wilted passion flowers flying in the process. Her golden eyes narrow as she searches the woodlands, thoughtful and contemplative for a moment. Finally she calls out, glancing up at the gray skies above before taking a few steps in the direction she had seen the figure drop down into. “It’s not nice to spy on a bathing lady.” She calls out, a smirk on dark velvety lips as she waits to see if she had indeed caught a peeping tom.

They may call me a sinner, but I am at peace with myself;

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@"Cassiel"