04-09-2020, 08:52 AM
L E P I S
i hear the voice of rage and ruin
To her left, the river chatters. Though it is shallower now in the heart of summer, it has been delightfully cool when she’d waded in earlier. Now, eyes-half open, she drowses and dries. When her wings are no longer damp, she means to return to Loess. For now, she is content to breathe in the fresh scent of growing things, feel the breeze that lifts her dripping mane, and listen to the sound of the River. Lepis had spent her morning in the Field, searching for those in need of a home. She’d spoken to a few of them, but either Loess was not right for them or they were not right for Loess. Rather than feel as though the day was a waste, she’d gone for a swim in the nearby Riverlands, deciding that the rest of the day would be a relaxing one.
There are plenty of responsibilities waiting for her when she returns, but for now she takes this moment as it is. As always, when she dozes or near-dozes, she projects an aura of peace. It does not range far from her, but it is heavy, an intangible barrier of emotion to those who might wish her harm. Its not defense from non-physical attacks, or from those outside the projection, but it is enough for her to rest. She has wings to defend herself, after all, and teeth and hooves if it comes to it.
Drifting in to sleep, Lepis sees the by mare wandering along the opposite edge of the River. Dirfting out of sleep reveals that the other woman has crossed the river while she dozed, and is making her way nearer Lepis. The dun doubts that she has noticed her, tucked into the greenery as Lepis is, and the bay will likely pass right by. When the other horse stiffens though, Lepis’ instinct tugs at her, and she feels the sleep fall away. She is a herd animal at her core, after all, attuned to the wary responses of her own kind. It’s just a bird though, a little sparrow that zooms out of the thicket and over the river.
Lepis chuckles ruefully at her own wariness rather than the bay’s reaction, and steps forward from the brush a few paces ahead of the other female. Though she pulls back her projection, the gentle smile remains on her navy blue mouth.
“Better safe than sorry,” she says, her blue-grey eyes flicking toward where the bird had flown. “And It’s easier to keep watch with two pairs of eyes. Would you mind if I walk with you a little a while I dry?” Her head tilts inquisitively, the still damp curls of her hair falling a little to the side. “My name is Lepis,” she adds.
@[Questa]
There are plenty of responsibilities waiting for her when she returns, but for now she takes this moment as it is. As always, when she dozes or near-dozes, she projects an aura of peace. It does not range far from her, but it is heavy, an intangible barrier of emotion to those who might wish her harm. Its not defense from non-physical attacks, or from those outside the projection, but it is enough for her to rest. She has wings to defend herself, after all, and teeth and hooves if it comes to it.
Drifting in to sleep, Lepis sees the by mare wandering along the opposite edge of the River. Dirfting out of sleep reveals that the other woman has crossed the river while she dozed, and is making her way nearer Lepis. The dun doubts that she has noticed her, tucked into the greenery as Lepis is, and the bay will likely pass right by. When the other horse stiffens though, Lepis’ instinct tugs at her, and she feels the sleep fall away. She is a herd animal at her core, after all, attuned to the wary responses of her own kind. It’s just a bird though, a little sparrow that zooms out of the thicket and over the river.
Lepis chuckles ruefully at her own wariness rather than the bay’s reaction, and steps forward from the brush a few paces ahead of the other female. Though she pulls back her projection, the gentle smile remains on her navy blue mouth.
“Better safe than sorry,” she says, her blue-grey eyes flicking toward where the bird had flown. “And It’s easier to keep watch with two pairs of eyes. Would you mind if I walk with you a little a while I dry?” Her head tilts inquisitively, the still damp curls of her hair falling a little to the side. “My name is Lepis,” she adds.
@[Questa]
