06-18-2024, 04:52 PM
The sky is pink with sunrise, and a warm morning wind lifts the mane and feathers of his neck. Ruhr raises his head, breathing deeply of the salty air, warm and heavy even this early in the morning, and rich with the scent of countless flowers.
Compared to his darting speed while flying, Ruhr’s pace along the beach is little more than a steady plod. The limp in his right foreleg prevents much speed, but the sand provides sturdy footing as the greying stallion makes his way along the shore.
The sound of hooves is hard to make out over the crash of waves, but the red and white mare is far easier to see as she makes her way toward him. Having left her while she wore the shape of an owl, Ruhr is unsurprised to find her once more transitioned into a mare. Demi has been chosen by the Moon; her ability to take many forms is proof of that. Having promised to remain at her bidding until she or the Moon released him, the feathered stallion watches her gallop by with the same soft-eyed adoration as always.
Though he finds the shifter both lovely and kind, there is neither lust nor romance in his sky-colored gaze - only something akin to awe. There is a glowing light about her - perhaps not real, but She allows him to see it - a sign of her Chosen, rara avis.
“You’re awfully energetic for this early in the morning,” he says with an easy smile, as though there is no sweat drying along his own hide from his pre-dawn flight. He enjoys her playful nature, the brightness with which she seems to view the world.
“Are you looking forward to seeing your sister?”
@Demi
Compared to his darting speed while flying, Ruhr’s pace along the beach is little more than a steady plod. The limp in his right foreleg prevents much speed, but the sand provides sturdy footing as the greying stallion makes his way along the shore.
The sound of hooves is hard to make out over the crash of waves, but the red and white mare is far easier to see as she makes her way toward him. Having left her while she wore the shape of an owl, Ruhr is unsurprised to find her once more transitioned into a mare. Demi has been chosen by the Moon; her ability to take many forms is proof of that. Having promised to remain at her bidding until she or the Moon released him, the feathered stallion watches her gallop by with the same soft-eyed adoration as always.
Though he finds the shifter both lovely and kind, there is neither lust nor romance in his sky-colored gaze - only something akin to awe. There is a glowing light about her - perhaps not real, but She allows him to see it - a sign of her Chosen, rara avis.
“You’re awfully energetic for this early in the morning,” he says with an easy smile, as though there is no sweat drying along his own hide from his pre-dawn flight. He enjoys her playful nature, the brightness with which she seems to view the world.
“Are you looking forward to seeing your sister?”
@Demi