 Like most every afternoon of the past few weeks, Celina wakes up on the beach. Grey sand clings to her cheek when she lifts it suddenly, and her twitching white ears search for the sound that had woken her. Her seafoam-green eyes are narrowed against the bright morning light, and her pink tongue picks at a bit of fishbone trapped between two protruding teeth. Falling asleep after gorging herself is a fairly recently developed habit, but it is one that Celina thoroughly enjoys. This morning had been no exception, and she’d risen before the sun to lure in the red snapper that are most active in the shallows at dawn. After a morning and afternoon of hunting, she’d eaten more than her fill and then fallen asleep.
She is irritable about being wakened so unexpectedly and abruptly.
The sound that had roused her comes again – louder now – and her angular head snaps around to where Elio is shouting her name from the woods. Celina frowns, her iridescent markings bright with the angle in fading sun, and the stripes of them furrow deeper. She’d been having a good dream. She considers ignoring him, tucking herself more tightly between the grey boulders and continuing her nap unseen. Her flaring nostrils catch the scent of a stranger, and before the realization of it truly reaches her constant mind, the slim creature is on her feet, her muscles tensed and sandy wings half-flared as she positions herself to face the unknown creature.
The muffled sound of voices comes from the same direction as the stranger’s scent and Elio’s shouting, and she wonders if perhaps that is the reason her brother is calling her. Has he found a stranger in the woods? Has a stranger found him?
With her father’s recent admonition to protect your home at all costs, the two-year old filly forges ahead and into the woods. Her younger brother stands in her line of sight when she reaches the pair of them, illuminated by a beam of sunlight. The stranger is in shadow, and as Celina steps up beside her crimson brother, her green eyes narrow in an effort to identifying more about this newcomer than just her nose and ears can tell her. In the end, it’s her ears that help the most, for the stallion that looks like Father and Pteron freely identifies himself as Tiercel.
Rather than brightening with excitement as she might have a few months ago, Celina’s earlier frown returns. He could be, she decides, he certainly looks like Tiercel should look, but all she has to go on are stories.
“Prove it.” She says sharply, glancing over at Elio, trying to ascertain how he feels about this stranger who claims to be their long lost brother. “Prove you’re our brother. ”
celina
i'm that bad type, make-your-mama-sad type
make-your-girlfriend-mad type, might-seduce-your-dad type
|
|
@[elio]
@[Tiercel]
|
