heaven sent; any

[Wyrm]

when the stars threw down their spears and water'd heaven with their tears:

It is a rather beautiful day. Plenty of sun to warm his green hide, soft grasses to muffle the sound of footsteps carefully placed. The meadow drinks in the fine weather and produces respite for the horses gathered, among them a silver lioness that gleams brilliantly for any nearby eyes. It’s her lack of fear to be mingled with the rest of the bunch that draws Wyrm’s attention before his nostrils filter her unique scent from far away, settling into his mind while bringing forth a name to match the smell. “Epithet.” He remembers while his lips toy with a smile. Who else would revel in such openness?

The stallion never pauses in his journey, only shifts mid-stride to assume the shape of a hefty, golden lion. Felt-like paws that rival the size of a ponies skull, connected to a thick, gleaming bronze body, leave a wide track in his wake. She’ll have seen him by now, the others already begin to sidestep away as Wyrm threads through them. When he does reach her the big male only offers a toothy sort of smirk, the flippant twitch of his tail, and “I haven’t seen you in some time.” as a way of greeting before slumping into the grass near her. They lounge together now, neither awkwardness nor trepidation passing over his feline features while Wyrm appraises her.

She seems healthy enough, no signs of a little thing nearby to drag her down. The golden cat allows his mouth to loll open, bright pink tongue flickering out over his bottom teeth as he pants softly in the torrid afternoon. “I like the color choice.”

did he smile his work to see? did he who made the Lamb make thee?

@[Epithet]