08-26-2021, 05:28 PM
I L I A N A
She was mostly oblivious to the kind of darkness that twisted itself into Hyaline.
Sheltered was not the right word. Given her parents, she was certainly never sheltered from anything. They both knew that hiding the realities of life from their children would only serve to hinder them, but, her mother was also not too quick to darken their sunshine quite yet. She knew the world would do that for them. She didn’t think her youngest daughters needed to know just exactly how careful in Hyaline they needed to be — a simple warning to leave the king and queen alone (because they are busy, her mother had said — they have things to do, so if you see them, make sure you stay out of their way) is all Iliana and her twin had ever been told, but whether or not they would heed that remained to be seen.
She preferred solitude anyway.
She liked the quiet of her own thoughts, the predictable rhythm of them. She liked when she was alone in the mountains, with only the rustle of the wind and the distant call of a hawk to interrupt them. In her panther form she could cover far more ground, slipping easily over rock and fallen trees with feline ease. Her black pelt—covered with dark, nearly invisible rosettes as a panther—complemented the similarly neutral colors around her. The pallid-gray of the sky, the rough stones that littered the rocky terrain, and the pine-green of the trees. She all but blended in, just as she wanted to.
She makes her way to one of the forested areas, seeking more privacy, and perhaps the opportunity to practice tracking deer the way her father had told her to.
It wasn’t a deer that she had in her sights right now (she was still too young to hunt them on her own), but rather a small hare. She had no intention of actually killing it, she just wanted to see if, hypothetically speaking, she could have.
And she is certain she could have if not for a strange, almost song-like cry that pierces the air, startling herself and her target. Her rose-gold eyes flit away from the hare just long enough for it to make its escape, and she heaves a somewhat irritated sigh, straightening as she does so. She looks again in the direction of the sound, and her curiosity gets the better of her.
She follows the sound with mostly silent footsteps, sticking to the low-light areas, stopping occasionally to listen, and then readjust her path.
Eventually, she is rewarded with finding a most peculiar bird, and for a moment her steps falter. “What are you?” She asks him, shifting into her equine form as she does so. She is young, less than a year old, and the shift is perhaps a little clumsy considering her age, though it was evidently something she had been doing since she was born. She is still black as a horse, with the same rose gold eyes, but now with rose gold on each of her legs as well. When she steps into the sunlight those same rosettes that she had in her panther form remain scattered across her neck and back, though there seemed to be a rose-gold tint to them—and the older she gets the more prominent they become.
Belatedly, she realizes she had assumed this creature could understand her. This makes her cheeks flush warm, though she isn’t sure how to rectify the situation. Instead she only stands, staring and waiting to see if he will say something back.
Sheltered was not the right word. Given her parents, she was certainly never sheltered from anything. They both knew that hiding the realities of life from their children would only serve to hinder them, but, her mother was also not too quick to darken their sunshine quite yet. She knew the world would do that for them. She didn’t think her youngest daughters needed to know just exactly how careful in Hyaline they needed to be — a simple warning to leave the king and queen alone (because they are busy, her mother had said — they have things to do, so if you see them, make sure you stay out of their way) is all Iliana and her twin had ever been told, but whether or not they would heed that remained to be seen.
She preferred solitude anyway.
She liked the quiet of her own thoughts, the predictable rhythm of them. She liked when she was alone in the mountains, with only the rustle of the wind and the distant call of a hawk to interrupt them. In her panther form she could cover far more ground, slipping easily over rock and fallen trees with feline ease. Her black pelt—covered with dark, nearly invisible rosettes as a panther—complemented the similarly neutral colors around her. The pallid-gray of the sky, the rough stones that littered the rocky terrain, and the pine-green of the trees. She all but blended in, just as she wanted to.
She makes her way to one of the forested areas, seeking more privacy, and perhaps the opportunity to practice tracking deer the way her father had told her to.
It wasn’t a deer that she had in her sights right now (she was still too young to hunt them on her own), but rather a small hare. She had no intention of actually killing it, she just wanted to see if, hypothetically speaking, she could have.
And she is certain she could have if not for a strange, almost song-like cry that pierces the air, startling herself and her target. Her rose-gold eyes flit away from the hare just long enough for it to make its escape, and she heaves a somewhat irritated sigh, straightening as she does so. She looks again in the direction of the sound, and her curiosity gets the better of her.
She follows the sound with mostly silent footsteps, sticking to the low-light areas, stopping occasionally to listen, and then readjust her path.
Eventually, she is rewarded with finding a most peculiar bird, and for a moment her steps falter. “What are you?” She asks him, shifting into her equine form as she does so. She is young, less than a year old, and the shift is perhaps a little clumsy considering her age, though it was evidently something she had been doing since she was born. She is still black as a horse, with the same rose gold eyes, but now with rose gold on each of her legs as well. When she steps into the sunlight those same rosettes that she had in her panther form remain scattered across her neck and back, though there seemed to be a rose-gold tint to them—and the older she gets the more prominent they become.
Belatedly, she realizes she had assumed this creature could understand her. This makes her cheeks flush warm, though she isn’t sure how to rectify the situation. Instead she only stands, staring and waiting to see if he will say something back.
-- the shadow is mine, and so is the valley
@Vital