[private] And it's just my soul responding; Lepis

[Nodens]

i found the antidote. i let the anger go and mother nature found it's place.
now we're compatible, my inner animal, i wanted blood and got a taste.

Before him the generation were prone to stagnation, Ivar haunting his waters and shallows: swimming and constantly avoiding the land; but Yidhra was no different. A Kraken devoted to the depths and secret places, avoidant of the world above except when her manipulations catered to bring her to the surface… and between them? He had yet longed to explore.

Born of Kelpie and Kraken but dedicated to nothing: shifting and constantly between forms.

Such it was he floated from true self to wolf, to deer, and eventually to amalgamations of everything; but today? H favored the air and the feathers. The birdboned body lighter and coated in thick golden-brown feathers, touches of red and autumnal patching along the patterns and his wings stretched wider than most natural birds. The raptor talons grasped upon the branches he rested on and his yellow eyes flittered and glanced across the wide forest and thick brush.

He mired in the moment, truthfully enjoying the breeze along his body and the clittering of his beak: chirping and twisting his neck as he caught sight of movement in the Taiga’s vast recesses. Nodens contemplated, but found little reason not to investigate: as such, he spread the feathered wing and sprang off- flying and gliding through the trees with resounding flaps echoing in the open spaces.

Much to his interest and to his curiosities he found herself grasping another branch, skittering himself along and tapping the talons on the wood. As if innate to himself he folded the wings at his sides and peered down at the golden and blue mare, at the wings she possessed and the regal bearing she carried in every motion and movement.

Nodens knew not of his sibling, nor of the Comtesse; but she was the first he encountered and a curiosity of shape.

Without hesitation he sprang again and floated himself downward, gliding and spreading the toes to land on the ground, chirping to get her attention before bouncing a few feet closer but still enough to give her space. Scratching at the ground his body shifted then, flesh stretching and feathers fading as bone and muscle reworked itself into a more accommodating shape.

Equine in nature, painted a smoky brown-grey that seemed littered with roaning and patterned with white tobiano markings and patches. His hazel eyes seemed almost red in a way and the build was somewhere between warm and cold blood… his truth shape, in some way. Still there were addendums to him, and namely those in form of antlers that were corkscrew patterned and woven in a spiral shape… cloven hooves like a deer and wings that sat upon his shoulders: resting and colored like his body.

“Apologies,”  he stated plainly, twitching an ear and dipping his head in greeting.  “You are the first face I have seen here, and one of the most interestingly gifted that I have seen period. I am Nodens, a traveler of sorts.”  he felt it in the moment to be cordial enough but taking a second or two to consider his posture, he imitated something more formal.

Content to change as he stood, Nodens finalized a singular addition to his form before pausing: the slightest touch of green in his eyes to break the reddish-brown.  “Would you mind if I asked, but, have you always had your wings?” 

Nodens

@[Lepis]

[Lepis]

lepis, comtesse of taiga RUN AND TELL ALL OF THE ANGELS; THIS COULD TAKE ALL NIGHT i think i need a devil to help me get things right The soft edges of the ferns brush her golden coat, their touch cool and damp against her still sleep-warm skin. Exposed and gnarled roots hide beneath their emerald fronds, but Lepis knows the trail between them, and her navy hooves land only on firm earth, cushioned by decades of detritus. What weak sun manages to reach through the evergreen boughs provides little warmth. It is hours past dawn and the fog has not burnt off, and though Lepis’ blue-grey gaze not turn toward the swirling mist, the Comtesse knows it for the indicator of nights that grow longer and winter drawing ever nearer. Time passes, and she is not certain if she wants it to slow or race ahead. Lepis sighs, just as a shadow crosses what little sunlight there is. She looks up to find a glimpse of rust-colored wings and a golden beak, and wonders what Turul might be doing out so early. If the bird is here, surely Aten is not far, but the fog is too thick to hear or smell much beyond her line of sight. She stops – it had not been as if she was headed anywhere in particular – and waits for the Champion to find her. Instead, it is the bird itself that descends. She has never paid much attention to the difference between one eagle and the next, yet as the raptor hops nearer, Lepis realizes that the bird is not Aten’s companion. Nor is it a natural creature – the aerial hunters keep to themselves as much as any of the other wild animals – and Lepis feels her breath catch in her throat. The Comtesse had last seen her spouse as something like a bird, could this be…It even changes in that same bone-cracking sort of way, and for a moment there is almost – almost – an emotion in her chest. But the stallion that the bird becomes is a stranger, and the surprise that might have been in her eyes fades to what might be disappointment, if only she could feel it. In truth, her face is serene and without motion save the flicking her eyes across his antlers, his wings, the pattern of white markings that reminds her of something. The first word from his mouth is an apology, acceptable for a stranger in her heart of her woods, and both his words and his posture save him a firmer response for his unexpected presence. “I was born with them,” she answers, “From my mother, and those from her mother, passed down through our family since Ziyadah and Tabari first gave them to Lone Star.” It is a tale she has told each of her children as she preened their wings, smoothing feathers and recounting the tale of their countless great-grandfather and his quest to rescue his love. It is as informal a first greeting she has ever given a stranger, and so she follows with a tone no less measured but infinitesimally more formal: “I am Lepis, Comtesse and ruler of these woods.” @[Nodens]