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A twinkle on waves and the sunset gleam; anyone - Elayne - 06-28-2020 Elayne
The storm season of Ischia had surprised the little girl. It was something she of course had been warned about, both her parents had told her not to go out alone. But at her nearly-teenage state of mind, her endless curiosity had consumed her, and she had longed to submerge herself in the warm sea, below the breaking waves. It had been a mistake, she knew now. She’d taken the safe shape of a jellyfish like she usually did, and the whipping winds had created currents that confused the young child. She’d instinctively swam against them, but it had tired her too much - so much so that she forgot to choose a form that was easier, and then her fragile jelly shape had floated across the merciless sea for miles and miles. When she finally reached another land, she let herself be thrown on the shore, the much gentler waves lapping at her purple tentacles until she was rested enough to get back into her normal shape. Now the 6-month old filly lay in the sand much like the washed-ashore jellyfish had: legs still half in the water, her head resting on a beach she immediately identifies as different from home, because it was so much colder than the sand of her home. She coughs once or twice and opens a golden eye to look around. Where is she? In the distance, trees loom, of a kind she’s never seen before. A soft whine escapes her as she lifts her royal-purple head to look around, her metallic golden sunset mane still sticking to her wet body. Now what? RE: A twinkle on waves and the sunset gleam; anyone - Dace - 06-28-2020 never thirsty, ever drinking @[Elayne] RE: A twinkle on waves and the sunset gleam; anyone - Elayne - 07-05-2020 ElayneThe mauve filly hears a voice, and a small smile presents itself on her lips. Hello, little fish. How could he know the irony of his nickname? Still, she coughs a little from exhaustion, and she hardly responds when he cleans most of the moist from her coat. She’s still cold, but not as freezing as she was just a moment before, and she makes a small sound - nothing at all like the thank you she would have wanted to say, but it will have to do. When he tells her he can’t carry her, disappointment floats into her golden gaze for just a second, but then she struggles through the sand and pushes a foreleg under her body. Like a foal standing for the first time, she struggles to get up, and half-wobbles half-crawls through the sands only to drop her exhausted body again. Her wings flutter like an insect’s or a butterfly’s, but she doesn’t have the strength to change them into any one lighter substance than her natural feathers for the moment, and she lets them droop by her sides once more. Looking up to the red-faced male, Elayne gives a nod and smiles, then shakes her head. When she opens her mouth, she croaks, her body too dehydrated to allow her throat any understandable sounds, let alone coherent words. She sighs, letting her head hang to hide her tears. How stupid had she been? Would she ever see her mom and dad again now? @[Dace] RE: A twinkle on waves and the sunset gleam; anyone - Dace - 07-18-2020 never thirsty, ever drinking @[Elayne] RE: A twinkle on waves and the sunset gleam; anyone - Elayne - 08-22-2020 ElayneSo little does he know, so little does she. But her instincts have led her here, have helped her survive, and his seem to be doing alright as well. Her parched body screams for nourishment and clean, fresh water, and he recognizes it and brings it - that's all she cares about right now. Her voice may be too damaged to speak, but he seems to understand her regardless, and so she gives a small smile when he comes back - relieved, because for just a few heartbeats she'd thought he might leave. The command is not needed, but she heeds it slowly anyway. The wind may be blocked out a little, but her warm-wet body is soon cold regardless, and she has a hard enough time moving as is. His words however are encouraging, and when she's had a little water - her stomach could probably not handle more, anyway - she tries to stand again. She has to get away from the beach, get shelter, and get her long-needed rest... but she still jumbles over her own limbs, desperately reaching for the stallion's mane in the process to keep from falling over again. @[Dace] |