[open] a monster on my mother's side; any

[Fiorina]

She’s been called here, beckoned back from her adventures, back from exploring the world beyond Beqanna. There are many, many strange places out there she has learned - strange places where she is not so strange. But, at the end of the day, this is home. Although there is a clear beacon telling her where she needs to go, Fiorina cannot help but marvel at the way this place has changed since she was born here. Not in any interesting ways though - she feels like there’s more colour and flashing appendages among the inhabitants than there used to be and the lands have changed - but none of this really affects her. Maybe Beqanna has become like the other places she has visited, maybe this is now one of those places where she is not so strange - horses with armoured plates on their bodies and prehensile, knife-tipped tails may blend in a little more. Fiorina is not sure whether she wants to blend in or not. She enjoyed exploring the great wide world, but cared little for exploring within her own heart or mind. She was, after all, destined to be a monster. One step above Anaxarete’s pets - her mother and grandmother. It is dawn when she arrives in Pangea, ears catching the noises of night turning to day while she slinks - as well as a horse can slink - into one of the canyons. Will she meet a stranger or one of her assorted family members first? It is difficult to find the means to care either way.

open to any!

[Set]

He does slink, a piebald form weaving in and out of the shrinking blue-hued shadows of the acacia and locust trees. Of course, Set has not been entirely equine for some time now. Countless creatures teem beneath his skin. At first they had been a cacophonous roar in the back of his mind, driving him to frustrating distraction. Unable to control the shapeshifting, his body had contorted and morphed at will - every will but his own, that is. It had bothered him, perhaps more than it should have, to lose control so often, so entirely. His mind was always his and he supposes now that he should have been grateful for that. He had been too young, too arrogant to recognize anything but what he had lost when the faeries had changed him. Now though … His mouth twists in a wry grin at the memory of the predicaments that his magic had gotten him into in those early days.

The smallest of creatures are the ones that go largely unnoticed. Most convenient for matters of stealth (and fitting into small spaces), their tiny consciousnesses light up like stars in a dark night sky. They can also be the most difficult to understand, their lives, and therefore the lense through which they see the world a rather alien one.

At first, they are confused. Ripley. Nostromo. Not-Ripley. Not-Nostromo. Same, different. But with the monsters are the shadows, always … Their thoughts flicker and relay miniscule images he pieces together on the move, turning up a rock-strewn switchback and shifting into a slow jog as he ascends the canyon side. Topping the smaller mesa, he heads into the wind. A storm in the Forest had pushed a wall of wintry air into Pangea and the two small pipistrelles hidden amongst the knots of his mane grumble in protest when the cool air brushes them. Dropping down the other side of the mesa, the object of Set’s little creature’s attention becomes glaringly obvious. His eyes go to the knife-tipped tail first, tracing the wicked edge with obvious admiration before taking in the rest of the xenomorph-encased equine. With a low whinny and a devilish grin, he leaves his temporary perch and jogs to level ground and approaches. “Well, hello gorgeous,” he greets, but it’s not exactly clear whether he speaks to the fascinating weapon or its wielder. Bright eyes, dancing with an inherent, incorrigible mirth and mischief that reflects in his smile, drag themselves away from their open inspection to seek out hers.

[Fiorina]

Fiorina is not left to wander on her own for long, and she observes the stranger coming forward with a mild sort of curiosity at first. It spikes a little when she thinks she sees something moving in his mane. A snack for later, perhaps? A trick she would be very interested in learning if that was the case. Though she doesn’t have any mane to assist, but perhaps the little creatures to cling to the spines that run down her neck and back and then learn to crawl into her mouth when she needs to nibble on something. At first his words just get a small flick of her ear in response - but she decides that she likes the look of the mischief she sees in his gaze when it raises to meet hers. It's something new, something interesting, and that does not happen for this half-monster very often. A slow smile brightens up her black eyes as she watches him before she gets around to replying. Her smile is a wicked expression, borderline completely feral, though she doesn’t exactly have many other expressions in her arsenal. It is not lost on her how he had looked at her tail, but whether or not the compliment was towards it or her whole self does not matter - the tail is still a part of her, after all.  when she does speak, her voice is cast low but it is certainly not soft, it's got hard edges like the rest of her. “You’re welcome to take a closer look, if you like.” She invites as that gorgeous prehensile tail flicks sharply behind her before curling forward at her side.