05-31-2019, 10:20 AM
nothing is more real than the masks we make
Slowly, he makes his way through.
The void feeling oddly comforting and familiar, but only for a minute. As he exits the otherside he feels ground beneath his hooves and a weight upon his head.
His copper body was larger than he had expected, the muscles rippled as if he had had years of training. His hair fell golden, bronze between his eyes flicking through full eyelashes covering golden, amber eyes.
The sight before him is grand indeed, quite the opposite of what he has watched for the last few decades. This was a picture of how he had always hoped to see Beqanna and her residence, coming together as one instead of fighting and sinning. Though, he thought cocking his head, he wouldn't be surprised if there were to be sinning done here tonight. A mechevious smile spread across his lips.
He made his way along the parties borders, pulled by the inky shadows. As he swiped his muzzle along the makeshift curtains he could feel his facade slipping.
The star upon his forehead had spread across half of his face a bright ghostly white hiding him from preying eyes. A giant, bronze crown slipped down his ears opposite the white mask, as his back began to mirage into the night.
A ghostly, phantom filled his place. His colors still vibrant and his body still visible but semi permiable to the living.
He made his way towards the center of the party, he had been gone for a long time. What better coming out than a party as grand as this.
to show each other who we are