Halyven
The Rift had again occupied her thoughts, whispering of uninvited tasks, instructions, and explaining once more that the only cure for the infliction it issued, was their completion. At first, she had plainly assumed that voice to be just another among the constant chorus in her head—another curse, another set of tasks—but the scaling flash she knew well, for last time it had grown to considerable proportions and devoured a good half of her scrawny frame. The experience had been excruciating and a rather torturous welcome to this unpredictable world. Of course, it wasn’t all doom and gloom. In return for the completion of the tasks last time, Eira had been gifted the ability to issue thoughts and images into the minds of those around her; after that, her world had been wonderfully less lonely. As the starving young horse fossicked and foraged around the rocks, the arrival of the silvery-eyed filly behind her evaded immediate notice—so too did the snowman who waited motionlessly toward her front, not initially see. In the very same moment, when the stranger’s young voice split the silence suspended around them, both Eira and her foul-tempered escort (an item, more than a creature), turned with a start. Snow gathered in the palm of one raised, kindling hand and the snowman hurled it with force, at the sweet face that stood near. “Oh no!” Eira’s thoughts cried allowed, the same distress shredding the look of astonishment which had been. The other small horse had shown them no hint of aggression, and the sickly looking girl bumbled forward with remorse pooling in her eyes, desperate to rewind the hostility of the tiny thing. “I’m so sorry,” she fed into the mind of the pretty stranger, it’s not my fault, “the little beast, I don’t know why!” thoughts scrambled to make her understand that they did not share an opinion—or motivation—anything which might validate a reason for the action. No sooner had she begun, however, than another arrived, or his voice, commanding that something not be touched. All of a sudden, insecurity tingled the nerves beneath her heavy hide, and Eira found herself stumbling backwards, fearful about whatever danger the newest stranger perceived. Dark eyes watched as the tall stallion halted beside the filly, drinking his brilliantly prestigious appearance with a visible note of awe, tracing his brawny, built line right until it found the tip of his heaven bound horn. Apparently, the feeling was not a mutual one. The stallion’s ebony skull sliced forward like a snake, ears flattened and eyes barely visible. “Are you sick? Eira’s entire impression seemed to thin dramatically, a stark contrast to the show of might and power before her; the barbered silver feathers lining each wing smoothed quickly, the limbs themselves cuddling all the closer against ribs like mountains and valleys. Her swayed neck dipped the too-large head at its end yet lower into submission and heavy ears wavered uncertainly to each side. Beneath her, the long tail slithered to a standstill, pressed into the shadow of the body overhead. “No,” her thoughts answered quickly, wanting not to antagonise him at all, “I’m Eira.” |
She has no horn yet despite the picture!
@Savera @Virga
