12-11-2019, 11:33 PM
Her frown turns thoughtful at his question, but her dark eyes are confused. Her gut is telling her she is hungry, she is always hungry, eking out a bare survival on the meager subsistence that he finds for her under the snow and ice. A predator. What does it mean to be a predator? She is slow to make the connection, and when she does, she stares glumly at her paws for a time. Her experience is limited to the fear of the deer hunted in the canyons of Pangea, by her own fear.
"Will they be afraid of me?"
There has never been a time that she feared him as others might. There had never been a chance for her to be frightened, when she had finally woken from her icy stupor he had been watching over her for hours, desperately vulnerable. She had been so afraid of many things worse than a scaled stallion that by the time she caught sight of the sharp teeth in his mouth, they were only met with curiousity. Now she feels the same sharp teeth in her own mouth, points scraping across a rough tongue, and the reality of it washes over her. Are others afraid of him? He is asking her kill, kill to eat, to survive, yes, but at the expense of someone else. He is asking her so casually that she knows he has done it before. Could she do it?
Mama would want me to survive. But could she have known that to do so, her golden child would eat the flesh of another creature? The thread connecting them frays further, this gift of her sire's comes at a high cost. She thinks - and she is likely not incorrect - that her mother would sacrifice a thousand horses to bring back her daughter. Her lovely, bold, mother. She would fight a Fairy to keep Beryl safe and secure. She would forgive a few lost souls. So Beryl stands and winds between the stallion's legs without waiting for his answer, because she knows the answer, even if he hesitates to say it.
Yes. Yes, they will be afraid of you.
They will fear her as they fear him.
There is a new sadness in her heart that joins the myriad small hurts and heartbreaks she has already endured, and she lets the shadows reach out to her in the gloom, to coat her in themselves and shade her golden fur to almost-black. They are weightless and unconstricting, and every minute brings her greater comfort in this strange, long, lithe body. With a high-pitched growl, she leaps at him again, climbing up and up until she is set upon his broad back, and there, though he cannot see it, she grins mirthlessly into the frozen wasteland, tail lashing side to side.
"Can you show me?"
"Will they be afraid of me?"
There has never been a time that she feared him as others might. There had never been a chance for her to be frightened, when she had finally woken from her icy stupor he had been watching over her for hours, desperately vulnerable. She had been so afraid of many things worse than a scaled stallion that by the time she caught sight of the sharp teeth in his mouth, they were only met with curiousity. Now she feels the same sharp teeth in her own mouth, points scraping across a rough tongue, and the reality of it washes over her. Are others afraid of him? He is asking her kill, kill to eat, to survive, yes, but at the expense of someone else. He is asking her so casually that she knows he has done it before. Could she do it?
Mama would want me to survive. But could she have known that to do so, her golden child would eat the flesh of another creature? The thread connecting them frays further, this gift of her sire's comes at a high cost. She thinks - and she is likely not incorrect - that her mother would sacrifice a thousand horses to bring back her daughter. Her lovely, bold, mother. She would fight a Fairy to keep Beryl safe and secure. She would forgive a few lost souls. So Beryl stands and winds between the stallion's legs without waiting for his answer, because she knows the answer, even if he hesitates to say it.
Yes. Yes, they will be afraid of you.
They will fear her as they fear him.
There is a new sadness in her heart that joins the myriad small hurts and heartbreaks she has already endured, and she lets the shadows reach out to her in the gloom, to coat her in themselves and shade her golden fur to almost-black. They are weightless and unconstricting, and every minute brings her greater comfort in this strange, long, lithe body. With a high-pitched growl, she leaps at him again, climbing up and up until she is set upon his broad back, and there, though he cannot see it, she grins mirthlessly into the frozen wasteland, tail lashing side to side.
"Can you show me?"
Beryl
Litotes x Mehendi
@[Leilan] She is riding him into battle lmao