when i run through the deep dark forest long after this has begun,
There is not many reasons that Daye can find to roam in her equine form. It had only been a few days and though coming head to head with a rogue wolf was something she had been ready for, she had not been ready for the fear that had encapsulated her for the first time in her life - the fear for not her own life, of course, but for the young girl (now woman?) she had come to know and care for. It had shaken her; moreso than she had ever thought it could, and so beneath the shadow of a gently swaying willow tree, the once-wolf now stands as an older mare.
The blue sheen to her pale gold perhaps would be familiar for some; a sign of her lineage that she had long since buried beneath her. She stays true to her rugged self, of course - her flaxen mane is full of burrs and tangles, knotted and unkempt across the slender slope of her muscled neck. A sharp blaze - white as bone - is thickly stark against the gold of her face and the darkness of her muzzle.
For a moment she wonders if Mazikeen would be able to place her in such a shape - refined, nearly, in her equine form - but her concern is quickly tossed to the side as the cry of the ocean bird sings familiarly in her ears. The golden mare steps into the sunlight, the blue of her skin electrifying in waves as the light hits the muscle of her shoulders and flanks.
The white wolf comes towards her and with a devilish smile, Daye transforms into the rose-colored wolf that Maze would recognize so well. She huffs gently against the pure white of her friend’s cheek in return, her pink tongue brushing against the soft fur. They continue walking further into Hyaline, Daye’s eyes set on the crystalline lake at its center; two wolves wandering out in the open.
Mazikeen’s question rouses a chuckle from Daye’s black-lined lips, her dirt-stained legs continuing to bring them further into the kingdom. “No,” she replies hastily as if shutting down any fears the younger may have. With a snort, she adds: “There will be much bigger things, now. Mountain lions, even.” Her tail flicks behind her once and then twice, glancing to see her reaction - perhaps it was too soon for such jest, but Daye never really could read the room.
It would be a lie to say that she did not notice the new scars that adorn the white wolf, nor the way that she had grown in the year they had spent together. Daye may not be the sentimental type, but she did find a place in her heart for Mazikeen and truly wished her all the happiness she deserves. “You’re stronger now, you know.” The elder mentions casually, tipping her chin upwards and bringing her gaze towards the lake once again. “That’s something to be proud of.”
Dayé
where the sun would set, trees are dead, and the rivers were none.
@[Mazikeen]