03-25-2017, 12:27 PM
Misra
i'd go to hell and back with you; stay lost in what we've found.
The sun is overbearing, its unabashed sheen of light blinding to the eye and unforgiving - the humidity is faint, yet still ever present, gently draping itself over the silver lining of her skin. Beneath her, the pale particles of sand shift, and with a deep and heavy exhalation of the heavy air, long buried memories begin to come to the surface - moving with the ebb and flow of the rising tide. It is not the silver painted cove, nestled safely against the breast of the mainland, but it is bright - vivid; unabashedly vibrant - and a longing emerges within the core of her chest. A longing for something tangible, for soft, fertile soil to place roots into. A place to call her own, their own, beneath the cradling, tropical canopy.She is quiet; an unwavering but silent presence - the finely preened feathers along the hollowed out bones of her appendages gently brushing along the lavender skin of the one she would follow anywhere, to any means necessary. Her teeth touch lightly to the hardened ridge of his shoulder (a wordless reassurance; though he needed none at all). Tucking her wings tightly against the feminine curve of her body, her dark, endless gaze searches the dense thicket. Her heart thuds uncomfortably against the rigid confines of its iron cage, breath caught in the tightness of her throat as one finally moves forward - broad, handsome, guarded and painted in gold, with searing amber eyes.
He is a sight to behold, with a rumbling, whiskey-laced baritone.
What is the meaning of this?
The faintest of smiles tugs at the corners of her mouth; he had little idea of what trouble stood before him - and she can hardly withhold the amusement bubbling up within her.
Soon, another emerges - she is delicate, at least comparatively to the stallion beside her, with russet, dappled skin and a stern, hardened expression (she could hardly fault her for the displeasure sewn into her cold tone). Her dark eyes study the child nestled close to her side, though her attention is soon drawn away by the serene, calculating voice of Kirin's own daughter.
I believe our intent is quite clear -
"Ischia has been quiet long enough; we have come to take from you what you have neglected." Her voice is soft, but cannot be mistaken for meek - her words directed towards Ea alone. "My name is Misra." She searches Ashley's hardened, amber stare again, boring into him as he did unto them - a smile hidden within the golden flecks of her eyes. "You should stay."
worlds apart, we were the same until we hit the ground.