08-31-2016, 04:16 AM
Across the sea
A pale moon rises
The ships have come to carry you home
Epithet
The log wiggled.
Yes, the log.
Epithet moved and cracked her neck, stretching up her wings (which were now made of dingy brown bark-colored feathers) and stretched out her legs, revealing the odd log shape she had taken while she had chosen to take a nap. Boredom and lack of activity had caused her to practice her magic, but then, on the off chance that she would be caught unawares, she had turned herself into a log to settle down for a rather long nap. She blinked, her lashes created of moss and lichen that had tinged such a graceful log, so perfectly unstepped on by the filly named Wonka, that they looked like fuzzy green caterpillars above her eyes… Or maybe the extraverted makeup that one sees on a totally fabulous drag queen.
Shaking, she stood up, her barkness remaining about her as she settled back into an equid form…-a wooden, barky equid form-, and she moved her head to also avoid being hit by the stone that had been thrown off the back of the filly’s head. Unfortunately, she was not successful, and made an audible “oof” noise to note her rather sudden discomfort as it fell to the ground at her feet. Spying the direction that the stone had come from, Epithet narrowed her eyes to spot a tiny fog with an even tinier crown on his head, hopping off into the trees. As he passed the bushes into what he believed to be the cover of protection, she willed the trees to reach out and slap his little slimy behind, to show that he was not as stealthy as his little froggy butt thought he was. He was a frog after all.
However, she said nothing to the filly, and instead made a rather interesting wuffling noise to her, speaking with a lyrical voice that belied her rather ragged exterior. “Thank you for not stepping on me. Sleep was kind of necessary, especially considering the season. Not much to do these days. I’m Epithet. Pleased to meet you, Wonka.”