09-07-2016, 09:36 PM
In the blink of an eye - Kida only has one! - the world is vastly different.
Winter is Spring.
Snow becomes green growing grass that tickles the soft underside of her belly (she is a bit on the short side).
The buckskin stallion is still there, from amidst the snow and the stars. He is the only constant that she focuses her single cinnamon eye upon. Her head slants to the side just a little, to better see him in her foreshortened sight (the left side of her face is smooth and velvety, the fur grown over the eye socket like moss mourning the eye that never was) as he asks her if she knows what has happened. Kida has no clue, not exactly but she is a daughter of a former king and a former queen and her blood is deep with magic, royalty, and all the things they’ve always taken for granted. Is it any wonder that the very heart of this place became so angered at them?
She too, sighs.
“No, not exactly.” Is all that she manages to tell him because to be frank, she has no idea why the world shifted so sudden as to be violent and different all at the same time. She thinks that maybe it ought to have upset her but like him, she is calm, too calm.
His concern for her safety surprises her, registers even, as shock upon her usually blank face. Why did he care? They are only strangers who’ve met in the night on the shores of a lake that seems to have disappeared into the meadow proper and the trees that shift around the bodies of nearby horses, or maybe that is the mists playing tricks on her lone eye. Still, it could be considered touching and she almost offered her nose to him like in the old days, when horses were still just horses and did things like that.
“I don’t believe this is a normal occurrence per say…” she falters, for how is she to know what is normal now and not? “At least, nothing like this has ever happened in quite a long time.” Kida is musing aloud more to herself now than to him, but she is still highly aware of him by her side. He gleams, golden like sun-touched wheat, beside the blackness of her own skin.
Winter is Spring.
Snow becomes green growing grass that tickles the soft underside of her belly (she is a bit on the short side).
The buckskin stallion is still there, from amidst the snow and the stars. He is the only constant that she focuses her single cinnamon eye upon. Her head slants to the side just a little, to better see him in her foreshortened sight (the left side of her face is smooth and velvety, the fur grown over the eye socket like moss mourning the eye that never was) as he asks her if she knows what has happened. Kida has no clue, not exactly but she is a daughter of a former king and a former queen and her blood is deep with magic, royalty, and all the things they’ve always taken for granted. Is it any wonder that the very heart of this place became so angered at them?
She too, sighs.
“No, not exactly.” Is all that she manages to tell him because to be frank, she has no idea why the world shifted so sudden as to be violent and different all at the same time. She thinks that maybe it ought to have upset her but like him, she is calm, too calm.
His concern for her safety surprises her, registers even, as shock upon her usually blank face. Why did he care? They are only strangers who’ve met in the night on the shores of a lake that seems to have disappeared into the meadow proper and the trees that shift around the bodies of nearby horses, or maybe that is the mists playing tricks on her lone eye. Still, it could be considered touching and she almost offered her nose to him like in the old days, when horses were still just horses and did things like that.
“I don’t believe this is a normal occurrence per say…” she falters, for how is she to know what is normal now and not? “At least, nothing like this has ever happened in quite a long time.” Kida is musing aloud more to herself now than to him, but she is still highly aware of him by her side. He gleams, golden like sun-touched wheat, beside the blackness of her own skin.