[open] Curiosity Got the Best of Her; Any

[Penryn]

Those that don't believe in magic...

The forest was quiet on this particular morning, the forest leaves and vegetation damp with morning dew. It was a rather warm day, surprisingly, the morning chilled but still bearable. Other equines and wildlife gathered about, though none seemed to notice the mare curled up beneath the protection of a tree. Her pelt was of cream and sorrel, a splotched combination she'd yet to see on anyone else. Her eyes were closed, her barrel rising and falling gently as she slept. Her cream forelock hung limply against her forehead, a long and flowy tail splaying out around her. Chestnut audits clicked occasionally as insects buzzed by, though she remained within the confines of sleep. Her coat was damp, an indication that she'd been there since late at night. Penryn had no dreams, no memories or thoughts to fill the blackness she floated in. She was just so tired. And so, here she lay beneath the shelter of a tree, asleep in a land she knew nothing of. Blissfully unaware of those around her.

will never find it.

Penryn

Mare | 4 yrs | Gypsy Vanner x Friesian | Tobiano Chestnut | 16hh

html © dante.

[Circinae]

Ignorance is bliss, they say, but Circinae can’t really be sure if the look that’s settled on the sleeping mare’s face is one of ignorance, or one of total bliss. Deep in her slumber, the spotted creature seems happily unawares of Circy - which is a good thing, because in the night something dreadful had happened. The green-and-navy mare had been fitfully resting when a noise had disturbed her, something small and nocturnal, truly insignificant, but that’s all it had taken for her eyes to snap wide open and her spine to bow, body bending inwards on itself until it shrunk and took new form.

Just like that, Circinae had her wolf shifting back. The furry little creature that had mistakenly aroused her hadn’t lasted much longer, but the night had; in the twilight hours before dawn she found herself still trotting around the woods on four paws instead of hooves, covered in thick, coarse, mahogany brown hair that bled to tawny around her nose and legs. Then she’d come across this horse.

A low whine from the brown wolf broke the silence. Circy so badly wanted to talk, but the action was null in her mouth. Instead, she plopped regretfully onto her belly and pulled her ears close to her head, stretching out her forepaws to let her nails scratch softly at the dirt like some overgrown puppy. Satisfied, the she-wolf barked, letting the noise fill the trees while she waited for the stranger to rouse and pay her the attention owed.

Circinae

I need the crack of a whip, I need some blood in the cut

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[Penryn]

Those that don't believe in magic...

Sleep never lasted very long. Or maybe it did and Penryn just couldn’t feel it. Either way, it had felt like nothing but a measly five minutes before hazel eyes peaked beneath pale and chesnut lashes. It was but for a moment, the rays that slowly bled into the area hurting her eyes. She still wanted to sleep. Just a few more hours of quiet oblivion, that’s all the mare wanted. It's all she asked for. But fate had different plans. At first, Penryn hadn't even noticed the canine situated in front of her. Instead, she'd tucked her head a bit closer, fully intent on falling back off the edge. But she'd caught sight of the blurred figure, just barely. And then it dawned on her. There was a predator sitting in front of her. Her head went up, a snort escaped her. Dark eyes were wide in surprise and panic, though she remained seated. She fully intended to reach out with her maw and snap, maybe catch a mouthful of hair. But the way the wolf sat, like it was waiting, had the mare hesitating, eyes weary and body tense for a grand leap up. Her pink nose stretched forward, nostrils quivering as she eyed the femme. This dog… smelt funny. Like a mix of two creatures. The underlying scent of an equine. “Hello…” the mare murmured, drawing her head back. What possessed her to speak to the animal that could very well rip her throat out, she didn't know. Chestnut audits flicked back and forth in uncertainty. “How… how has your day been?” Keeping things civil seemed like a good bet, an attempt to keep her own mind calm.

will never find it.

Penryn

Mare | 4 yrs | Gypsy Vanner x Friesian | Tobiano Chestnut | 16hh

html © dante.

[Circinae]

Someday, Circinae’s impatience to wait on things might get her into trouble. Someday. This time, however, her efforts are rewarded with the drowsy arousal of the sleeping beauty. The chestnut-splashed-white is actually amusing to watch as she comes to, disbelief muddling her eyes while fear contorts her face. In the span of a few minutes though, curiosity overcomes Circy’s new companion and her soft, pink nose extends to probe the air around the mahogany she-wolf, giving Circinae the opportunity she’d been waiting for since she’d stumbled across this lone horse in the first place. With a quiet yip, the wolf extends her own nose to precariously bump against the soft flesh of her counterpart.

“Hello …” The mare offers unsteadily, but the wolf has already closed her eyes and she’s thinking, thinking, thinking about what it feels like to be horse again. She lets the smell of the tobiano wash over her, settle deeply into her mind. “Focus.” She can hear her father saying, “Look within, find the strands that are woven together, wolf and horse.” So intense is her concentration that the girl doesn’t seem to notice that she’s being spoken to. “Wolf and horse, wolf and horse, wolf … and … horse.” She repeats to herself, struggling until a fine sweat breaks over her and a faint popping sound can be heard.

With a low snarl her brown head jerks sideways, neck twisting and stretching. Her eyes are forcibly squeezed shut now, and the pain comes sharply as she leaps to her feet and transforms. Skin stretches and changes colors, toes melt together and solidify, her snout elongates and she outright moans while the process completes itself in a matter of seconds.

Fully horse again, Circinae pants and opens her eyes to find the world changed and the chestnut mare where she left her - on the ground. A weak laugh erupts from her lips, followed by a “Sorry.” Her belly is soaked, but she looks wholly like herself once more (green fur and all). “I didn’t startle you too badly, did I?”

Circinae

I need the crack of a whip, I need some blood in the cut

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