CASIMIRA
dragon-shifting daughter of ashhal and ryatah
She is older, but the childishness of her face is still evident. There is the beginning of curves and angles in her yearling body, a telling sign of what was to come, although they remained mostly hidden by immature baby fat and undeveloped muscles. Slowly, the dark pitch of her once black coat had begun to fade, and even though she was now the same startling, nearly unnatural white as her mother, there was a small disappointment in not looking identical to her twin anymore. She was sure Cassian didn’t mind, and perhaps there was something striking and pleasing about seeing the black and white pair together, but she can’t help but to feel some sadness at the change. It was the only thing she had had to make her feel normal.
When she comes to the river today, it is by ground. She has been cautious of her dragon form as of late, for she didn’t like the change that took hold over her. It had been easy to ignore, at first; the flashes of anger that came from nowhere, and the sudden craving for blood and bone. But as time wore on, they became more persistent. There were times she became afraid that she didn’t have the self control to keep from doing something she would regret later, and the feeling terrified her. So it became easier to simply bury it.
But even in her equine form, there was always something noticeably reptilian about her eyes. Angular, with black pupils that slit through the ice blue of her irises. It’s those eyes that settle on the older horse near the river, and after a moment’s hesitation, the young girl makes her way over. “Hi!” She offers an amicable smile along with her greeting, although she can feel a faint tingle of uncertainty creep up her spine. She didn’t talk to strangers often, especially not without Cassian. “My name is Casimira.” Her gaze sweeps across the stranger’s face, noting the different hues and markings. “I like your pink.”