Rainforest Cliffs
She does not turn away when he ignores her. She does quite the opposite, growing louder in her protest. Like a scolded baby she stomps her feet, demanding his attention. Varuna scoffs. It does nothing to discourage the yearling's trek onward, deeper. She means to follow him? So be it... She is just a dumb filly still wet behind the ears; he, a headstrong colt with a knack for sticking his nose where it doesn't belong. Perhaps they will both learn a lesson on the trials of courage and adventure.
Eventually, the babe falls silent, but he knows she is there by the groans that come every now and again and the soft stirrings of hooves. Is she as brave as she pretends? Or does she simply have no where else to go, no one else to shadow? He grows curious of her, peering behind from the corner of his eye. He remembers a time when his belly twisted up with the absence of mother's milk. A time when his wings were too weak to carry him (they were only just getting to be strong enough now). He wandered around like a lost lamb for a time, frightened and alone, 'til a great big shadow scooped him up and called itself father, then went away again.
He feels no pity for her. Has she been left alone in the world as well? He has survived... so far. Will she?
His ears flick at the sound of her gait quickening. He glances back to see her cantering toward him, rather ungraceful on her match-stick baby legs, shuffling through the dark. He doesn't quicken his own pace, but lets her catch up to him, noticing the way she reaches for the tresses of his tail with eager teeth. Bold. And stupid. He waits 'til she's just behind him...
Varuna stops and spins on his haunches, hoping to lash the babe in the face with his whip-like tail before she can latch on. Lifting up his fore-body, he spins around three-hundred-sixty degrees to face her, stomping his hooves and snapping his skeletal jaws in front of her face. The muscles in his jaw bunch and roll about as he grinds and bares his teeth, gnashing them threateningly. They glow milky white under his barely-there lips and puffs of air billow from his nostrils into her face.
Boo. Scary, yes?
He won't patronize her with questions of where is your mother? or why are you all alone? No, that means nothing to him. Being an orphan is all too familiar, especially in this place between worlds. In his short life, Varuna has kept the company of ghosts more than he ever has the living. But her ignorance and naivety is so irksome. Perhaps it reminds him of himself. Whatever the reason, he is annoyed by her following him. "You shouldn't sneak up on strangers," he warns, trying to sound menacing, as though he knows a thing or two.
Is he as frightening as he'd like to think? Ever since he tried to knock over one of the shadow demon's bone lights, Varuna's face has looked like this. He might as well make use of it.
Eventually, the babe falls silent, but he knows she is there by the groans that come every now and again and the soft stirrings of hooves. Is she as brave as she pretends? Or does she simply have no where else to go, no one else to shadow? He grows curious of her, peering behind from the corner of his eye. He remembers a time when his belly twisted up with the absence of mother's milk. A time when his wings were too weak to carry him (they were only just getting to be strong enough now). He wandered around like a lost lamb for a time, frightened and alone, 'til a great big shadow scooped him up and called itself father, then went away again.
He feels no pity for her. Has she been left alone in the world as well? He has survived... so far. Will she?
His ears flick at the sound of her gait quickening. He glances back to see her cantering toward him, rather ungraceful on her match-stick baby legs, shuffling through the dark. He doesn't quicken his own pace, but lets her catch up to him, noticing the way she reaches for the tresses of his tail with eager teeth. Bold. And stupid. He waits 'til she's just behind him...
Varuna stops and spins on his haunches, hoping to lash the babe in the face with his whip-like tail before she can latch on. Lifting up his fore-body, he spins around three-hundred-sixty degrees to face her, stomping his hooves and snapping his skeletal jaws in front of her face. The muscles in his jaw bunch and roll about as he grinds and bares his teeth, gnashing them threateningly. They glow milky white under his barely-there lips and puffs of air billow from his nostrils into her face.
Boo. Scary, yes?
He won't patronize her with questions of where is your mother? or why are you all alone? No, that means nothing to him. Being an orphan is all too familiar, especially in this place between worlds. In his short life, Varuna has kept the company of ghosts more than he ever has the living. But her ignorance and naivety is so irksome. Perhaps it reminds him of himself. Whatever the reason, he is annoyed by her following him. "You shouldn't sneak up on strangers," he warns, trying to sound menacing, as though he knows a thing or two.
Is he as frightening as he'd like to think? Ever since he tried to knock over one of the shadow demon's bone lights, Varuna's face has looked like this. He might as well make use of it.
