His eyes are bright and sharp, fixated on her most intently as she eagerly accepts the notion he has suggested. Skandar is not one for violence without reason (and sweet Avelina has given him nothing to go off of anyways) but he cannot help but notice the stirring of adrenaline in his chest - how will this game end? Is it truly innocent - a matching game for two young equines - or will each shift lead them down a route Skandar has already visualized? It causes a smile to crack along his moss-colored mouth, his brows rising in silence as Avelina reveals the chosen shape.
Skandar finds the swan rather fitting for her, with the deep obsidian feathers that flutter in gentle beats from her body, the length of her slender neck curling elegantly in a way that the young colt had not yet seen before. He snorts softly, curious despite being somewhat underwhelmed (he had hoped for a predator, but the game has only begun), smirking at her lopsidedly as his skin begins to shutter and flicker.
The sound is grotesque and not in the least bit beautiful. It appears as if pieces of him are flayed, fluttering against each other as the cells of his body wait for a command. All of the deep browns and greens of damp bark and leaves slowly fall into the familiar violet and orange of his natural skin before it becomes the exact color of Avelina’s feathers. He shrinks, just as she had, and his forelegs became the strength of his wings while his hind legs became the simple webbed feet of a male swan.
His feathers remain black as pitch, as well as every inch of him. He is slightly larger (as if he would ever allow himself to be anything but) than her and with a satisfying twist of his avian head, fastens his gleaming black eyes onto hers, reflecting the soft orbs of light from her fireflies. “Good choice,” he comments with a chuckle, stretching the lithe bones in his black wings experimentally.
“My turn,” he suddenly says, the black feathers rippling and trembling once again.
The galaxy-strewn colt’s ability comes from what he sees and thus, is easier to recreate when the actual being is standing right before him. But, he has found, that he has the ability to twist his appearance based on memories alone - Aela had proven this to be true. His own memories worked the best (he could control his shape longer) and for that reason, he grows into what he finds familiar - a mountain lion, like his dear twin sister.
When his fluttering skin finally settles and stills, the cougar grins but the smile isn’t reassuring with a mouth full of sharp teeth.
Without even a thought, he compresses all of his strength into his hind legs and propels himself forward - front paws outstretched and claws unsheathed.
Could he easily snap her slender neck? Would his claws hitch into the soft feathers? Would he even go through with it?
skandar
@[Avelina]
he's a jerkface D: