The moth-mother had been good to her, as good as something more insectlike than equine could be. She was loved and doted on and not left to herself until she was at least a year old, as if that made all the difference in the world to be weaned and a little more aged and less lanky in looks. Hyacinthe never complained though and adored her moth-mother back, almost pitying Ichor to some extent for the lack of a father or a herd or all the things that a normal enough goal ought to have.
Except Hyacinthe was not quite all that normal…
One fine day spent by the seashore and just a splash of brine upon her skin, a change was triggered in her that left her lying on the sand in a shape that was hers but not. Hyacinthe had shifted into a porpoise and lay there stunned, momentarily. Poor Ichor had been even more surprised than she was, blubbering and bawling at this oddity she’d never seen before. Hya was unable to console her despite the clicks and whistles that came from her new mouth.
Her tail slapped the sand and some inner voice of wisdom told her to scooch her way into the water, so she wiggled and wiggled to no avail. Ichor finally came over after realizing her only child was in distress and helped roll the porpoise into the water. From that day on, mother and daughter delighted in swimming together for hours at a time - Ichor with her gills and Hyacinthe as this wondrously new creature that carved through the sea like it was nothing.
Like she does now, riding the waves and chasing fish for her meals. She hasn’t spared a thought towards her mother in quite some time or seen her, which probably makes her a bad daughter but the sea is calling. It is always calling to her more and more, that she spends less time as a horse and more as a porpoise. But she does wonder from time to time about her father, of whom she knows very little about. As soon as she thinks of him, she doesn’t as she breaches the surface to breathe.
Hyacinthe spyhops for a moment, recognizing things like land and clouds and sunlight. Somehow, she has followed a school of fish into waters that are more tepid than she cares for but it doesn’t bother her just yet. She slips back below the surface and being a solitary sort of sea mammal, she swims along just as content as can be. Her echolocation alerts her to shallower depths approaching and as they do, she discerns the curve of a beach and we’ll, why not go ashore?
The porpoise morphs into a slim little mare that’s plump in all the right places. She’s still girlish but not by much as she emerges from the sea. Hyacinthe doesn’t bother to shake the water from her smoky black and gold fur, she drips and enjoys the sensation of being wet. Especially since a hotter wind blew here and it made her wrinkle her fine nose in something of disgust. She almost turned on her heels and dashed back into the sea until the shells strewn about the beach caught her eye and she began to wander along its sandy shoulder.
@[Ivar] or any ❤️
