09-01-2021, 08:20 AM
sickle
Sickle feels her stomach drop and a hiss escapes Oceanus as he circles overhead once the truth is revealed. She does not want him to leave her but he takes off for Tephra, for Wishbone, much later than he should have. For now, the yearling girl doesn’t notice his absence - she’s staring wide-eyed at the long-eared stallion, and then the mare who wore the face of her cousin. Distress seeps in and her form begins to flicker in time with her rapid heartbeat. Sometimes a filly, sometimes something else - each shape gone too fast to name so that she seems to blur.
She’s never heard of a fae before, her mismatched eyes blink red and then two different shades of blue before returning to their natural state when she looks at the one who’d spoken. That he cannot lie could very well be a lie in itself, how could she ever know?
A strange desire to trust them rises in Sickle but she fights against it. She steps away, just enough that she is facing them all and her body finally settles into a form - that of an iridescent blue dragon. Still the same size as her yearling self, but she feels a little better for having armoured scales and sharp teeth. The colours of the Pampas flicker more wildly across her coat as she battles her distress (she’d let herself be taken from her home again) and joy (did this mean Malik wasn’t sick?).
She has nothing to say but questions as her attention flickers between the trio - the next words that come out are shakier than she would like, filled with hope “Is Malik okay then?” With their frightening father, as she had suspected since he had disappeared, but if he was not ill that would be some comfort.
There’s a little more steel in her next question. Her will to fight does not come from her father's side, it finds its source in both the mare who raised her and the one who had given birth to her - though she does not know these aren’t the same.
“Help me with what?”
She’s never heard of a fae before, her mismatched eyes blink red and then two different shades of blue before returning to their natural state when she looks at the one who’d spoken. That he cannot lie could very well be a lie in itself, how could she ever know?
A strange desire to trust them rises in Sickle but she fights against it. She steps away, just enough that she is facing them all and her body finally settles into a form - that of an iridescent blue dragon. Still the same size as her yearling self, but she feels a little better for having armoured scales and sharp teeth. The colours of the Pampas flicker more wildly across her coat as she battles her distress (she’d let herself be taken from her home again) and joy (did this mean Malik wasn’t sick?).
She has nothing to say but questions as her attention flickers between the trio - the next words that come out are shakier than she would like, filled with hope “Is Malik okay then?” With their frightening father, as she had suspected since he had disappeared, but if he was not ill that would be some comfort.
There’s a little more steel in her next question. Her will to fight does not come from her father's side, it finds its source in both the mare who raised her and the one who had given birth to her - though she does not know these aren’t the same.
“Help me with what?”
@Obscene