A Myth On Four Legs
Taliesyn
Master Fighter (240)
Intermediate Intellectual (45)
13 Years
Male
163
BrienaSkysong
It was a night with no moon, yet it seemed as though a fragment of moonlight had taken shape to walk among the earth, an ethereal silver-blue glow lighting each step as the great creature picked its way through the boggy moorland.
Such a creature shouldn’t have been possible. He glowed, and his hide shimmered softly in varying, rippling shades of pewter, silver, blues, and soft violets. But the glow and shimmering coat wasn’t even the main reason for wonder in the creature. He bore a horn, a hard shaft of glowing white ivory sprouting proudly from his brow, right in the center.
Gossamer glowing strands floated on a midnight breeze, straying from thick locks of white mane and tail as he stopped, head rising high to tip wide nostrils into the breeze. Bright teal eyes scanned the surrounding trees, fore-lit by his own light, before he started forward again, snorting softly as he made his way onward.
Only his hooves were sullied by the mud and muck he traveled through. The rest of his form was spotlessly white, tail lifted to keep the ends of the hair from the muck. It was at long last that the stallion found a high point in the ground, above the mud and muck and filth. He paused there, head slowly scanning, small ears flicking back and forward, listening.
Here, he decided, would be a good place to stop. After a bit, he would forge on, and find better ground, but perhaps in the daylight. Easier to see predators in the mud, then.
Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think |
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Taliesyn
Master Fighter (240)
Intermediate Intellectual (45)
13 Years
Male
163
BrienaSkysong
Slogging steps and movement sent the great, horned, white head swinging around, his light intensifying for a brief moment as his heart-rate leapt in a natural reaction to the unexpected. It dimmed once more to the soft, steady, slightly pulsing glow as he spotted the wolf.
For a heartbeat he watched her stare, his ears pricked within the silken shimmer of forelock and mane until the wolf began to draw closer, her soft voice calling out to him.
“It would be utterly churlish and cruel of me to deny you, Lady. Please, get out of the mud a while.” His voice was a deep bass rumble, warm and gentle, educated English with a subtle flavor of a lilt. His luminescent features were kind as he gazed down at the wolf, shifting his hooves to offer move space on the mound of dry – relatively – earth, thick tail flicking amiably over his flank.
His fine neck arched as he ducked his head around to study her, the skin about his eyes crinkling into an easy expression of friendliness, lips twitching at the corners as he added, “I am Taliesyn. Quite the festering place this is, isn’t it?”
His gaze shifted to the surrounding bog and shadowed trees, the nearest faintly lit by his own form, finishing, “I’ve every intention of finding my way out come the dawn.”
Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think |