[private] suffering is nigh, drawing to me

[Tavani]

The cold rain streaks Tavani’s body in bold strokes of blues and purples that glow softly in the dulled light under the clouds. Each new droplet changes to the shades of it, just a little - mixing teals, indigos, and all manner of combinations together. Her wings are held tight against her sides, insulating them, but she doesn’t stray from the river or attempt to get somewhere where she’d be warmer. Those feathered wings of hers are much like those of a duck, the oil in them causing the water to run off - though not without leaving colourful marks behind. She enjoys this weather, for the most part. It is the closest she can get to being underwater, and she likes to pretend walking through a heavy rain is just like swimming. The watercolour mare thinks she is alone in the rain-darkness until a voice breaks through her thoughts. She follows the sound of it, and is fascinated by the sight of someone half-standing in the river. She cannot tell what colour he is truly, because it looks as though shadows are clinging to him, and the novelty of this draws her closer. Thanks to the dark rain clouds, the slit-pupils of her eyes are shades of dark grey that almost blend in completely with the black sclera surrounding them. “It’s lovely, isn’t it?” She asks with a small smile, stopping with enough distance between them that she could open her wings and not brush his skin, but it is still close enough to feel companionable to her. And she attempts to copy his stance, putting her front hooves into the cold water - which instantly makes her gasp and then retreat to the, relatively, dry bank instead. “The cold doesn’t bother you?” tavani

@litotes