bottom of the deep blue sea When the island he keeps on becomes too small for her thoughts and beating heart, she slips from the pale shores of silk sand to dive deep into the waters. It is warm and comforting at first but as the ocean darkens, so does the warmth till it leaves her skin prickled and cold. The painted woman expertly divides the waters with the length of her aquatic form. Thin veils of her fins billow outward in a sheer blossom that could have been mistaken for sea flowers.
Ischia had been her home for some time, one she had lived and ruled, when Ivar was gallivanting with the next pretty thing to allow the hours to pass but he always returned to the cove that kept his prized possession. Isobell's thoughts turn clouded and red as she bristles. How could she have allowed herself to be cowed into such a demure life? The once queen of the Iron Throne had lost her ways and, in time, her thoughts.
Once carefree and wild, she had tore through deer paths and along cliff sides. There her family grew between her loving parents, her father a dragonborn queen's guard and her mother the legendary queen of Nerine, both protective yet loving. She had missed the days the salt stung her tongue and clay caked the white parts of her gangly filly legs. She needed to go and find the shards of her fractured soul, to carefully replace the pieces, of her delicate soul.
Ivar had not been a bad man in the most sensible way. He loved her, fed her and sheltered her. In return she had been bound by her soul on the day he had drowned her and she was reborn but there was always a willful need to drive deeper into the heart of Beqanna for her purpose.
The ocean thinned to the river, the vegetation growing thicker and the sea life becoming more scare, till the pied mare takes to the shore. The last of a failing summer sun warms her immortal form. The forest was not far from the river and the smell of a fresh rain was just on her pink tongue. The sounds of birds offer a melody that she finds her feet moving rhythmically to as she drew deeper into the embrace of greenery. Here she was just as any other equine as much time has passed since she has ruled (thankfully her mother had given her immortality at birth, so the forever fresh face of a young mare was held).
Others were here as well, milling about, some conversing while others tugged at mouthfuls of grass. Isobell feels a small smile tug at her dark lips as she follows suit and drops her own head to the vegetation, the length of her damp mane falling down in salt stiffened waves. The scent of another is not far offer so she offers a pleasant greeting of 'hello' to the other though she does not expect much of a reply.
@[Malkin]
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Well, so far Malkin had done exactly nothing since he got back – though that’s hardly anything new for him. He had found a home, at least, so that was something. Sure he wasn’t exactly best friends with any of the residents but it was never very likely for him to do that either.
Today is already starting out not-great because Malkin had been spooked when he was leaving Sylva and has spent the better part of the day as an otter, which has not made travelling easy. Not to mention the fact that he has retained his favourite deep maroon coat so he is just a little extra ostentatious and therefore a little more tempting for predators.
Sure, he could have just stayed where he was but he was stubborn and having already made up his mind to do a little exploring today he wasn’t going to let his godforsaken “gift” get in the way.
Fortunately, he was able to find a river and swim in the general direction of the common lands – he had been an otter, and a few other animals similar to it, before and had gotten the hang of moving about in a river, though it took him a few tries to get it right and remember how it all went this time.
By the time he was near the forest, Malkin was exhausted. These stupid little legs were the WORST but at least it wasn’t a butterfly this time. Have you ever tried travelling as a butterfly? Sure they might migrate but Malkin was pretty sure he was going to have a heart attack.
The instincts of this form kick in and he had flipped over onto his back and was floating mindlessly for a while, trying for the millionth time to control this uncontrollable shifting thing, when he heard someone say hello.
Whether or not the greeting was for him or not, it caught his attention and the otter-Malkin rolled over and scurried over to the bank. His eyes, still the bright teal they were normally, spotted a black and white mare. She looked rather gargantuan but, he supposed, that was more a reflection of where he was standing than any flaws in her stature.
And she was grazing, which he was jealous of – because he was hungry but not for the fish that this form was craving.
But, still, this was company and even though he was not his usual handsome self – maybe being a cute, maroon otter would be a good ice breaker so he wouldn’t have to think of one up. In what can only be described as a waddle, otter-Malkin wanders near to the mare and finds himself a nice rock to climb onto, enjoying the fact that it is warm from the sun, and sits down before replying - “Hello yourself.”
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image by Reitro
@[Isobell] 
11-03-2019, 05:51 PM
(This post was last modified: 11-03-2019, 05:52 PM by Isobell.)
bottom of the deep blue sea
Certainly she had expected her greet to be met with some statuesque, attractive equine but instead it was returned by an small maroon otter. Something Isobell had never seen in her travels to the deep and back, between worlds, or even in daily life whilst dwelling in Beqanna.
"Oh. Well-" Her features turn up in a smile, slightly lopsided with her confusion, but still pleasant all the same. Silver eyes glimmer with curiosity to have met such an odd animal. Isobell had never spoken with something other than horses before and it threw her off just a bit.
The moonstone and obsidian mare dips her head towards the green eyed animal with flaring nostrils and curious eyes looking from beneath dark locks. "What's your name? I've never spoke with an otter before." Truth behind her words, she eyes the little thing, amused. "I suppose I should consider myself lucky." A small tinkling laugh follows. "Do you live around here?" The woman asks with ears forward and awaiting a reply.
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