06-22-2016, 08:55 PM
I have been restless lately. There is an itch under my skin that no amount of time with my children and their families has been able to distract me from. So once again, I find myself wandering, roaming the countryside with no particular destination in mind. Shifting sometimes helps, stretching my skin and bones into a different form, feeling the delicious pull as my body reshapes itself.
Oh, I've tried. I shifted to my familiar dragon shape and took to the sky, stretching my wings a bit. I haven't worn it as often here in Beqanna as I did while I was gone, and my wings ached to be used. Afterward, I briefly tried a rabbit on for size and coaxed a hungry little fox to come chase me. Scared the everliving fuck out of him when I shifted into another fox just as he was about to sink his teeth into my flesh. So confusing, when prey becomes a comely vixen.
Now that was entertaining. The poor bastard had no idea how to react. A little terrified, a little hungry, a little horny, he'd frozen just long enough for me to snatch him up in newly-formed gryphon talons and snap his pretty neck with my beak. Fox may not be the tastiest thing I've ever eaten, but he certainly sufficed. Well, quenched my hunger, at least, and cleaning the blood out of my feathers gave me something to do.
Still, the itch persists, not satisfied by a few drastic changes in anatomy or a meal well played-with. I suppose I'm not surprised; it's nothing like when I was pregnant with Xero and my body would fight to shift whether I wanted it to or not. Either way, it's driving me a little bit nuts, setting my teeth on edge, almost putting me in the mood for a good fight. A little bloodshed, some bruises, work up a nice ache and then soothe it away with some healing magic. Or not. Maybe let it ride, healing on its own. Huh. That could be fun. Hell if spending so much time with my Drow hasn't rubbed off on me.
Eh. Even if I did manage to stir up that much trouble, I'd have to hold back. Stay horse, hold in the fire, how dull. With an irritated snort, I tromp into the Meadow, wearing the shape of my Amazon days. It feels appropriate somehow, the hardened warrior woman wearing her bright yellow and white pattern like armor on a broad drafty frame, fire in my mismatched blue and gold eyes and a predatory stalk in my step. Probably I should try not to scare off any potential encounter with a bloodthirsty grin, so I try to restrain myself as I scan the common land in search of something to make my day a little bit more interesting.
Oh, I've tried. I shifted to my familiar dragon shape and took to the sky, stretching my wings a bit. I haven't worn it as often here in Beqanna as I did while I was gone, and my wings ached to be used. Afterward, I briefly tried a rabbit on for size and coaxed a hungry little fox to come chase me. Scared the everliving fuck out of him when I shifted into another fox just as he was about to sink his teeth into my flesh. So confusing, when prey becomes a comely vixen.
Now that was entertaining. The poor bastard had no idea how to react. A little terrified, a little hungry, a little horny, he'd frozen just long enough for me to snatch him up in newly-formed gryphon talons and snap his pretty neck with my beak. Fox may not be the tastiest thing I've ever eaten, but he certainly sufficed. Well, quenched my hunger, at least, and cleaning the blood out of my feathers gave me something to do.
Still, the itch persists, not satisfied by a few drastic changes in anatomy or a meal well played-with. I suppose I'm not surprised; it's nothing like when I was pregnant with Xero and my body would fight to shift whether I wanted it to or not. Either way, it's driving me a little bit nuts, setting my teeth on edge, almost putting me in the mood for a good fight. A little bloodshed, some bruises, work up a nice ache and then soothe it away with some healing magic. Or not. Maybe let it ride, healing on its own. Huh. That could be fun. Hell if spending so much time with my Drow hasn't rubbed off on me.
Eh. Even if I did manage to stir up that much trouble, I'd have to hold back. Stay horse, hold in the fire, how dull. With an irritated snort, I tromp into the Meadow, wearing the shape of my Amazon days. It feels appropriate somehow, the hardened warrior woman wearing her bright yellow and white pattern like armor on a broad drafty frame, fire in my mismatched blue and gold eyes and a predatory stalk in my step. Probably I should try not to scare off any potential encounter with a bloodthirsty grin, so I try to restrain myself as I scan the common land in search of something to make my day a little bit more interesting.