04-08-2018, 10:16 AM
Merida
from the ashes, a fire shall be awoken
There is a flicker of recognition in the Queen’s eyes, causing the fox’s black-lined lips to curl curiously. The little vulpine lifts her back haunches as she stretches out on the forest floor, her forelegs reaching forward as she lengthens her spine. Her tiny mouth opens in a yawn, revealing sharp teeth like pinpricks surrounding a pale pink tongue that curls before closing her jaws. Sabra’s words make her laugh - one that rumbles in her chest instead of floating out of her mouth and into the air, before it fades as her lips par to speak: “I am not one to take the company of anyone, regardless of species.” It is not an apology - there is no regret in the voice of the fox as her fire-lit eyes dance with mirth. She does not take any offense to the Queen’s words, flicking her tail casually behind her.She straightens, standing on all fours with a lightness that is anything but equine. Her fox-spirit is small in stature, leaving her to trapeze through the forest without interruptions or pleasantries of other equines. In her horse-form, she is easily found, and Merida is not one for formalities or creating friendships. There had been one, perhaps, but it had been long ago and left her feeling vulnerable and silly, which kept her hidden beneath the forest’s shadow, a cunning and quick flash of red in otherwise pitch blackness.
The fire-eyed woman would only be seen if she wishes to be.
In the blink of an eye, brilliant red fur is replaced with the sleekness of black, and the fox is replaced with a horse. The eyes remain the same - stark and burning - while her transformation takes place. Red flecks adorn her haunches and withers, like embers burning on black ash. Her mane and tail are as brilliant as her eyes, falling around her dark and amused face.
“Merida,” she offers when the transformation is done, tossing her head lightly with a gentle snort.