From overhead, it’s impossible to tell that anyone even lives in Sylva. The canopy is an unbroken blanket of red, orange, and yellow, and Djinni looks down at it as she soars on the early spring updraft. It has been a while since she flew, and the broad black and white wings that carry her through the air had taken some getting used to. She prefers the leathery wings of a dragon, but she’d been watching the magpies flutter about in the trees before taking off, and had chosen to sport a pair of their wings instead. The rest of her coat matches today as well; she’s traded the muted grey of her grullo coat for solid black (though her minimal tobiano whither patch remains, a nice compliment to the white tipped wings).
The wind carries her up the mountain range that separates Sylva and Pangea in the west, but she turns before she crosses over the wasteland. It might be only her imagine, but the air there seems too still, too strange, and she has no urge to explore the desolate place. She banks, and decides to land, having taken her fill of flight for the morning. She lands in the pond near Stillwater’s cave, enjoying the splash of water around her and she drops into the water that is just deep enough for a safe landing. The black and white mare takes her time coming out – she likes the feeling of the water on her exerted body. When she finally does, she climbs onto the bank to shake herself dry. The wings would be a nightmare if she had to wait, so she simply wishes them dry, and they fluff up against her glistening pied coat in an instant.
She lingers at the edge of the water, contemplating a nap. She is not especially tired though, so she simply stands where she is, looking out at the water as the last ripples of her presence die away.
natural build - slim
black minimal tobiano
feathered magpie wings
green eyes