04-26-2017, 05:40 PM
So quietly, so peacefully she watches the dead leaves break free of the branches and drift, tumble, float down to the moss and stones and roots littering the soil below. She’s found a grove of willows, the terrain is moist, swampy even, and these trees love it. Wisteria of all different colors clings to the draping strings and branches. As if by magic, these abundant vines are only this dense here and bloom all year long in their soft shades of blue, purple, and chartreuse. Shallow pools of clear water grow bright yellow flowers and harbor clutches of tall pitcher plants. Venus fly-traps also lurk across the humid ground – this is a pleasant place to come to this time of year, she’s found. It appears as if no one else comes here, or at least not often enough to make a path or eat down the sweet white berries growing on the small shrubs and intoxicating leaves of the ‘honey-wine tree’ [a name given to it by others before her time]. They’re delicious and nutritious but eating too many can make you drunk or sick, or both, but eating just the right amount makes you relaxed or even sleepy. They have the ability to ease pain this time of year when their leaves gather all they can before detaching in the first snowfall. She snatches a few from an overhanging branch, chomping happily when abruptly a thick cloud of white birds swarms overhead. They’re calling out in alarm, or excitement, one or the other. Kota finishes chewing the tender, delicious leaves, feeling their warmth slide down her throat as she swallows. She hears a thud, crashing branches, disturbed leaf litter.
The commotion draws the blue-eyed girl closer to its source. She comes upon a suffering stallion, prone, writhing and twitching, bleeding and groans burbling from his mouth. She keeps a respectable distance from him and peers from the evergreen bushes that only reach her porcelain chest. Poor thing, she blends like snow on dark stone which is to say she doesn’t blend at all,.
When he snaps a her she sours. Her curious expression morphs easily into a scowl, her pink lips wrinkled with irritation. With her healing gone, she can offer him little but conversation – she would offer him some honey-wiine leaves, but already his attitude is quite shit. She won’t be rewarding that, and this thought makes a smirk play at one side of her rosy muzzle while her icy eyes focus on the sitting stranger who hoisted himself up with a painful sort of sound. She steps out from the green and into the mid-evening light of a shadowy forest, her voice like silk with a creamy, rich, ancient Valley accent. “You.” she purrs as the shadows spill off of her milky curves and the dim luminance of a setting sun find her glassy wet eyes. “I’m looking at you.” She stops short of reaching distance, inspecting him head to toe with no emotion in her scrutinizing stare. “Will you live?” Her gaze evens with his face, his eyes if he looks at her.
The commotion draws the blue-eyed girl closer to its source. She comes upon a suffering stallion, prone, writhing and twitching, bleeding and groans burbling from his mouth. She keeps a respectable distance from him and peers from the evergreen bushes that only reach her porcelain chest. Poor thing, she blends like snow on dark stone which is to say she doesn’t blend at all,.
When he snaps a her she sours. Her curious expression morphs easily into a scowl, her pink lips wrinkled with irritation. With her healing gone, she can offer him little but conversation – she would offer him some honey-wiine leaves, but already his attitude is quite shit. She won’t be rewarding that, and this thought makes a smirk play at one side of her rosy muzzle while her icy eyes focus on the sitting stranger who hoisted himself up with a painful sort of sound. She steps out from the green and into the mid-evening light of a shadowy forest, her voice like silk with a creamy, rich, ancient Valley accent. “You.” she purrs as the shadows spill off of her milky curves and the dim luminance of a setting sun find her glassy wet eyes. “I’m looking at you.” She stops short of reaching distance, inspecting him head to toe with no emotion in her scrutinizing stare. “Will you live?” Her gaze evens with his face, his eyes if he looks at her.
Kota
those great whites,
they have big teeth
@[Dovev]
