04-01-2016, 08:28 PM
AND ABANDON, THAT GREETS YOU IN THE NIGHT WITH SNAKE EYES, THE MOST PRECIOUS KIND.
The two of them are not so unlike one another in age, but in every other aspect, they are different. Where she is lithe and finely sculpted, Wyrm is sharp and lanky. He is legs and bones and edges and untrusting. Where she is bay and slightly pink, Wyrm is a bold, deep emerald that bleeds through-and-through and gives him almost a comical look in the bright springtime sun. This green though is not a cloak of otherness, it is a badge of honor, and he wears it proudly as he stalks the trembling expanse of the meadow to intercept the happy young filly. “You there.” He spits, looking down at her with unimpressed nonchalance. “What’s your name?” He queries, circling her slowly. It’s a move he hopes will ruffle her feathers - a move that had proved to have the same effect on his younger twin Kudu, before his brother had mastered his own gift.
“I’m Wyrm.” he interjects, not even allowing her the courtesy to finish. His eyes have already begun to wander away, dancing over the crowd around them in hopes of frying bigger fish. But he finds nothing else in the short span of time that could occupy his curiosity, so eventually his gaze returns to her, disappointment edging his glare. “Where did you say you were from?” The growing colt asks, forgetting entirely that the filly has even yet to speak. Patience had never been his strong suit.
“I’m Wyrm.” he interjects, not even allowing her the courtesy to finish. His eyes have already begun to wander away, dancing over the crowd around them in hopes of frying bigger fish. But he finds nothing else in the short span of time that could occupy his curiosity, so eventually his gaze returns to her, disappointment edging his glare. “Where did you say you were from?” The growing colt asks, forgetting entirely that the filly has even yet to speak. Patience had never been his strong suit.