[open] the curse of the blackened eye

[Chemdog]

A gryphon, a horse sized lion body, huge wings and prominently beaked head of a raptor, rests lazily on the mossy riverbank. He is the same colors as when he’s his normal form, but adapted to his ever changing body palettes. His long slashing tail twitches in the moss as he naps down river from where the mare is dipping her toes in the rushing mountain waters. He smells her, sweet but not quite floral; metallic, reptilian. He clicks his beak as he tastes her particular scent over his keen olfactory. His glossy teal eyes take in her form, his feathers (from the shoulder up) prickle at her rattling sound as it makes its way to him. Irisaen appears out from behind one his wings, flicking her tongue, drawn out by the familiar rattle of another snake.

Chem yawns, flicking his third eyelid over his sharp eyes to blink, looking away from her with disinterest. He contemplates bothering her, ignoring her, or trying to befriend her ̶ all three were solid paths to take…but all seemed either awkward or work. He sighs, bringing himself to his pawed feet, but as he does so, his skin seems to shed away and his form melts so fluidly into equid. He shakes like a wet dog, grunting as if he made any effort at all besides standing; his companion coils back into his thick mane after being slightly disheveled from the change, hiding away.

The stallion walks into the shallow moving waters, his feathered ankles sinking into the soft current. It is a pleasant autumn morning, she isn’t injured, or doesn’t appear to be anyway ̶ but boy, her vibe, depresso. The stallion looks at her like she might be his imagination, but really he’s looking her over …Who died? is the question that presses on his tongue, but he fights it.

“If you’re looking to drown yourself, down river might work better.” His face doesn’t bend into a grin or smile, but his ears twist curiously around as he searches her face for a reaction of any kind, “It’s not really deep enough here.” he flings a hoof into the pebble-bottom waters he’s standing in, causing a big splash that rains back down all over him and maybe even reaches her with mist-like lightness.

Much smoother than ‘Who died?’, am I right?

CHEMDOG
to the window, to the wall

@frey
oh god
i hope this is okay

he did not ask my permission to say that