heaven sent; offspring/any

[Epithet]

Lately her trysts in the meadow had seemed to sour. The autumn hours draped in the skin of a silver lioness under fat harvest moons had dulled the sea green of her eyes. Epithet began to wonder if maybe a change of scenery, a change of lifestyle could suit her better. She had been so high she was dizzy then shattered and glued back together on false promises and slivers of glass lies. She wears the scars of childbirth and rearing as a bronzed shield. She no longer would play a victim in their lives. She blazes like a coal fire beneath the bedrock, everlasting and toxic.

The porcelain mare plucks her way into Tephra, weaving and turning as she follows old deer paths long stripped of their scent. Perhaps in this new life, this one she carves out rather than being forced, could be much more suiting. Each footfall brings a bulk to her stance. Taller, more muscular, more masculine. She rips stretches and fills outward easily to a stallion, thick and knotted, reaching a comfortable 17 and a half hands at her withers. She coats herself in the deepest blue-black of the ocean's eyes, cobalt and glistening as small flecks of white steak across her skin like that of ash upon Pompeii. Fine feathers cover her hooves as she moves methodically over the hardened soil and deeper into the humid embrace of Tephra. An expansion of feathers form handsomely at her spine, a pair of black rams horns curling at her brow and thickly spiraling behind her ears.

Epithet finds a place to stop, heavy chest filling, ribs expanding as she tastes the sulfur and acrid undertones. The blue-black of her bulk feels heavy at first but perhaps this body, this identity would stick together the torn seams, to free herself from the sadness that encased her former self. At least it was worth a shot.

A short, deep call gives away her place as she should expect to be found any way. One hoof cocks slightly as she rests, her new body tingling but the heaviness of her head with it's weight proved to be a new adjustment to her stance. Perhaps this land of heat could be what she craves.

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[appearance]
stallion-17.2-deep blue-black with small white spots-feathered wings of same color-black ram horns

Epithet

Okay so I'm trying something new with her. Let's see how this goes.

[Pumpkin Spice]

Natures first green is gold

The rust coloured lady picked away contently at some foliage. Tephra was a fertile land, the volcanic soil provided abundant nutrients for plant life. This fertility, combined with the constant heat exuded from the volcano meant that there was never really a winter. Finding food was exceptionally easy and allowed the small mare to be picky when she grazed. This ease of access also meant that the short mare had become somewhat plump.

It was nearing sunset, the golden rays of the sun highlighted the dark plume of smoke rising from the volcano Pumpkin Spice had become used to the acrid smell in the air, and now hardly noticed it, save for when the ponds and rivers began to boil and the steam would rise and burn anyone who went to close. The sunset was partly cut off by the plume of smoke, which was somewhat more thick than it had been of late. Already the eastern horizon had the dark blue hue of the coming night, though the stars and moon could not yet be discerned.

A call alerted the lady that there was a stranger near by; Pumpkin Spice had not noticed that her lazy hunt for her favourite fare had brought her so close to the outskirts of Tephra. By the tone of the noise she suspected it was a stallion near by; normally she would let someone else worry about strangers; a pudgy pony was not the most impressive welcoming committee Tephra had to offer. Her curiosity got the better of her and she meandered toward the other; her hooves making soft yet audible noise on the rocky ground as she approached. For the most part the shrubby foliage was taller than she, a well worn animal track was her means of navigation toward the stranger. As she got closer she was greeted with the fresh scent of horse; though it was not mingled with brine and sulphur as the local horse scents were.

A gap in the brush brought the flaxen chestnut mare into the open, a distance of a few horse lengths from the new comer. Spice's warm eyes rested on the stud - for it was most definitely a stud, and widened in surprise. He was certainly the largest specimen she had come across in a very long time; and all thirteen hands of her seemed to bring her to approximately his stomach. His pelt was dark with white flecks; he was feathered and horned and all around the most astounding character that Pumpkin Spice had ever seen, and she had thought herself accustomed to the mutants that Beqanna could produce. The golden brown fae was aware that she was gaping at the stallion, and it took a moment for her to gather herself, this momentary lapse  caused her some embarrassment. She tried to cover her surprise by shaking her coat, as if to rid herself of flies.

"Greetings, I am Pumpkin Spice, and you are now within Tephra." The greeting was friendly, though it sounded as if it were a rehearsed line. "Do you have a name, stranger?" She would have asked further questions; but she was intimidated by this behemoth and wasn't sure of his purpose. Maybe he was homeless and searching, perhaps he was an envoy from some other land, she really had no idea. Not to mention she wasn't used to being the face of Tephra, or used to being in the presence of giants.

Pumpkin Spice

OOC: Sorry for all the words, it's been a while since I played as Spice and she needs some exercise :p

[Epithet]

A simple smile spreads over the deep blue of Epithet's lips as she is greeted by a smaller horse, a pretty autumn fire mare. The blue male does the normal thing, a casual glance over the other's small frame, plumped by winter and not a child. Epi allows the pull of the smirk to encase the blue mouth as she tosses the knotted length of her forelock away from her eyes, sticking behind the curl of a her left horn. Epithet enjoys the feeling of this body, a man's body. She enjoys the way the cold is impenetrable, the way the rust mare watched with blooming curiosity but Epithet hesitates after the other's introduction. A dark blue stallion can not give the name 'Epithet'. No, that would not do.

'"Cole." The name slips easily from her tongue, conjured up by something -someone that lay buried inside. Epithet is almost surprised but does not allow herself to break. The dark horned male falls quiet, a heavy hoof moving a bit out so he may stretch his form under the watchful eye of the sun. "Tephra." The tall male echoes the name of the acrid land though Epi already knows it. But 'Cole' does not so Epi speaks as though it is all new. Dark eyes roll to examine the lands before moving back to the smaller mare. "Pumpkin Spice-", her name is spoken low and deeply, "are you here all alone?" Epi asks with a quirked brow, an innocent enough question though she knows the other isn't.

So far, so good.

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[appearance]
stallion-17.2-deep blue-black with small white spots-raven's wings-black ram horns

Epithet

<3<3