The onyx and gold-laced filly has no understanding of danger or the fact that it could be lurking in the depths of twilight, hiding in the cover of nightfall and watching her every move. Danger is foreign to her, at least when directed to her, because she herself is dangerous. She is wild and fierce, without even knowing it. There is no second thought when she parted from Tephra and its volcanic terrain; there is certainly no second thought now as she moves her way deeper into the forest’s belly. Her eyes are all alight with her sparkling and snapping fire, the soft crackling echoing in the solemnly empty canopy that rises silently above her. She is exploring but she is more enraptured with her dancing flame and the gentle comfort the blaze gives her than anything else, making it come so near to her that she could nearly feel the heat singe the delicate hairs atop her skin.
There is movement from the shadows - sudden but graceful, like a wave across the black sand beaches of her home - and with a swing of her head, her softened and gentle features harden into a furrowed brow and her lips into a thin line. Her gold barred ears flick back into the equally gold of her sparse mane, a sharp snort leaving her white and black nostrils. Stupid, she thinks angrily to herself. Her fire had become a beacon to others who wander the forest just like her and now she finds herself no longer alone. She often forgets that her power draws them out by their curiosity and she wonders mildly what kind of moth flutters to her on this still and cold night.
He had greeted her and his voice had been smooth and luscious, reminding her of the molten lava that spills slowly from the volcano’s opening. He’s complimenting her, this white and starry boy, and though there is the heat of pride that swells in her chest (and in her cheeks?), she dislikes how enamored he is with her gift. Little does he know that she boldly is rifling through his thoughts, her stomach flopping slightly as she realizes that he believes what he says. Selfishly (and perhaps hoping it would unnerve him) she distinguishes the beautiful flame into nothingness, a single puff of smoke rising into the air before and then above them as the night wind catches it.
“It is,” she retorts matter-of-factly, disliking the way her eyes cannot pull from him, entranced by the glimmering lights atop the darker pieces of his skin. Like little fireflies, she imagines, igniting, and sparking like embers. She does not thank him and neither does she offer him a step closer; her sharp, golden irises remain steady and sure, not even the smallest of smiles on her lips. However, she remains. “Far better than that glass stallion’s water. You should tell him that.” She pauses, not even realizing that her vocalizing his own thoughts could be seen as rude or disturbing. “I could snuff him out like a light, easy. Melt him, even.”
And then, for the first time, her lips twitch into a lovely smile; even a tiny laugh falls from her throat.
sunlight
@[isakov]
wow i love him