05-22-2024, 12:28 AM
. there is no pain you are receding .
Behind her delicate and diplomatic posture resides a warlike spirit forged from the strife and chaos of a land plagued with turmoil. She bears no scars upon her petite frame, nevertheless, the turbulent years of her childhood hadn’t left the blood bay unscathed. Her scars are unseen hidden deep within the confines of her mind. In the desert hell she fled, there was no play, no laughter, and benevolence a rarity. If not for the devotion and prestige of her sire and dam she would have been just another number.
Confident tones catch her ears. A dime a dozen -- there’s…more? She swallows her astonishment and shifts her obsidian gaze to the fish-cat seated contentedly between Kreation’s unmatched wings. Funny little thing it was, part fish and half cat. And yet its mismatched features gave it an added charm.
The red mare returns to her silence, interrupted by the spirited banter between the two. Not that she minds. She’s still partially convinced that this is all an illusion brought on by exhaustion. A glowing fish-cat atop a metal-made, winged purple mare - that flashes? Perhaps she’s dead. With such fantastical beasts as these before her, it isn’t too far-fetched. Ah, but the cold. It stings with each gust of wind.
You can’t feel pain if you’re dead.
“Where are you even from?” the stallion’s voice echoes. His inquisitive tone brings her attention to his smoldering stature once more.
Beneath his armor of flames, she could see his faded roan pelt battler-torn and faded with age. The fury previously felt has appeared to have receded, momentarily at least, and replaced with humor. Laughter had become foreign to her not heard since she was a filly and even then so short-lived. And now she found herself surrounded. It was enough to persuade the petite Arabian to breathe and for once in a long while, she felt her tension ease.
His bow brings her back to his unanswered query, one she hopes will lie forgotten and buried beneath introductions. She wants no association with her past. The sooner she could forget where she was from…the better.
She dips her dished head to each as their names glide elegantly from her lips.
“Kreation. Phoebus.” Her silken voice pauses as she returns her gaze to the delightful little creature. ”Fifi, is it?” A glimmer of humor sparkles in her eyes as her countenance softens slightly. “Delighted to meet you all. My name is Red Opium.”
Winter’s chill crawls across her spine, her travel-tired body shudders. Red may have relaxed a bit, but she was still guarded. She is in new territory, outnumbered and overpowered. Vulnerability was such a humbling feeling and she did not like it.
“Pardon my ignorance,” she graciously continues. “But where are we? What is all of this - what are you?”
. Red Opium .
@Phoebus
@Kreation
Wow, not only am I rusty, but I'm battling some crazy writer's block! Thanks for your patience!