02-21-2018, 04:35 PM
Against the sound of crashing surf, the sound of her arrival is muted. It was only the soft settling of sand far more golden than the pristine white beach of Ischia, and it vanishes just before it reaches the ground. Her hooves sink into the sand as she appears, the warmth of it a striking contrast to the cool grey that she'd stood upon only a moment past.
The air here is more temperate as well, thick and humid despite the autumn that afflicts the rest of Beqanna. It is reminscent of the jungle that the amazons had left behind, but Djinni has always found the granite cliffs of Nerine a far more fitting homeland for them.
It's for that kingdom that she is here, and at the reminder the rose gold mare straightens her posture. Surely they'll have a patrol along the beach, even at high tide. While most horses swim, there are still those that might enter through alternate routes. Routes that would be made simpler by the golden swan wings that the grullo mare wears, had she chosen to use them.
Despite her sudden arrival on the shore, the small mare does not appear threatening. She is small, built as delicately as any desert horse. The golden shade of dun striping on her slender legs matches the three rings she wears in either ear, and the expression she wears is eternally patient.
Someone will find her eventually, and she can do what she has been tasked with.
The air here is more temperate as well, thick and humid despite the autumn that afflicts the rest of Beqanna. It is reminscent of the jungle that the amazons had left behind, but Djinni has always found the granite cliffs of Nerine a far more fitting homeland for them.
It's for that kingdom that she is here, and at the reminder the rose gold mare straightens her posture. Surely they'll have a patrol along the beach, even at high tide. While most horses swim, there are still those that might enter through alternate routes. Routes that would be made simpler by the golden swan wings that the grullo mare wears, had she chosen to use them.
Despite her sudden arrival on the shore, the small mare does not appear threatening. She is small, built as delicately as any desert horse. The golden shade of dun striping on her slender legs matches the three rings she wears in either ear, and the expression she wears is eternally patient.
Someone will find her eventually, and she can do what she has been tasked with.