And today, she would visit the Dusk Court. No particular reasoning behind her actions. She was free to make such decisions as a member of nowhere. Smiling as she walked, passing the border and further into the field, Willoughby sought nothing. It was because she did this that she came upon such interesting people by accident.
If she wanted to seek others, she found they did not come so easily. No, no. She would not seek anyone. She would keep herself pleasantly surprised. Though the flat land before her gave no such shock; she could see someone coming from miles. It was behind her that was more surprising. Logically, that is. It should be.
So she kept her pace, a soft hymn on her lips and a spring in her step. The maiden would continue until stopped and stop she would. The smell of another drifted by her nose. Willoughby realized with gentleness she had her eyes closed. Opening them now, her pale blues stared at a figure she did not know. She was still away from them, but curiosity made her dance closer.
@ AW / speaks / woot woot
12-27-2020, 06:14 PM - This post was last modified: 01-02-2021, 10:02 AM by Willoughby
In the time she’d been here, she had not visited many of the other courts, not ventured much beyond the Night - the inviting cold mountains, the embracing plateaus and the world above waited for her there, challenged her to the very limits of what she was made of. Down here, it was not the same for her. It was level, it was small and wide and open. It was nothing like her home of old, the mountains that had touched the sky. Nothing would be like that, she knew, but it was past for her now. The girl had grown into a woman beneath those lights and left.
She’d met Avitus beneath those lights.
Thinking of him, she smiled.
There had been another, she who was made of marble and white, looking carved from the most beautiful materials, who had descended from the sky in a realm she’d visited, beneath a radiant starlit sky. Her beauty had taken Ciaran, and it had been in that moment too, she’d realised a profound component of herself.
Lost amid these thoughts, the sound of feather and fur and hooves caught her attention abruptly and pulled her from her reverie. Her blue eyes drifted across the fields until she found herself looking into a set of pale eyes that belonged to the one who had gently taken her attention.
In that moment, Ciaran was alone - Karsi was hunting, far from her, and so the cyan and sand hued creature gave a soft smile.
“Hello” she chirps back, reminding herself of a bird. Yet also reminded of one due to the strange awe of this woman's visage. Feathers of vivid turquoise, gold etchings... It was like looking at a lovely work of art. It was because of this that she was drawn in. “forgive me; I have not seen the likes of one such as yourself before.”
Willoughby realized she had been staring, and she blinks in quiet shame. No blush comes to her cheeks; it is not attraction but curiosity. Her head tilts to the side, regarding the young woman. “I've seen lots of winged beasts, but not one sprouting feathers over their body” she giggles softly, charmed by the other's appearance “but oh! I am probably embarrassing you... I shall stop.”
“she speaks”
if you don't want to see me dancing with somebody new
There was something quite unique about this lass. Ciaran noted this from the moment she’d seen her. Blue eyes drifted over her, but then found those that belonged to the stranger. Her gaze was met with one that was remarkably like her own - a look that was struck by appearance. It was buried deep inside her own mind, a deep line of vanity that was had to burn out and ignore. She did her best, not to lift her head and rise to it. She had her own pride, but it came out in her own way.
A smile touches her face instead. Blue eyes lit up by it.
“No embarrassment here, and you shouldn’t be either. Nothing wrong with remarking a new sight,” she says with that smile. A small, gentle giggle.
“I’d prefer some on wings at times. I can’t imagine flying. My grandfather told me some of his kind are winged, but he was one of the grounded variety. Microraptae, he called us,” she speaks. For a moment she wondered where he was now. If he was atop a mountain, his golden beauty below.
A small shake of her head brings her back to the world.
A warm smile touches her face, relieved that she hadn't flustered the other woman. “New things, new people... all remarkable in their own way” Willoughby breathes happily “especially when nature provides us with beauty we cannot think of ourselves.”
The maiden listens to the other's short tale, curious. She hadn't ever heard the term of microraptae - but this is what they must be, before her now. “Simply wonderful” she chirps “perhaps I'll one day birth some little ones with wings on their heads... or their rears.” She chuckles again.
It was half jest, half serious. “I shall then be blessed to call them something unique, like your grandfather has” she nods her head “but ah, my name is Willoughby. A pleasure, Ciaran.”
“she speaks”
if you don't want to see me dancing with somebody new
Ciaran echoed the sentiment spoken but with a bowing of her head and a slow closing of her eyes. Blue shifted beneath lids, always with a slight smile upon her face. There was something brilliantly endearing about the pegasus. Something bright that surely shone even in the dark. Something that resonated even when there was too much light all around.
Like now. The heat was strong even here. She could feel it weighing her down. Summer was heavy upon her shoulders. She would be happier when it ended.
Blue eyes become wider.
“Winged ears,” she remarks. “Are not something I have seen. Nor upon uh… derrieres,” she hesitates for a moment. Chooses her word carefully - no need to be entirely crass just yet, dear one.
Ciaran grins.
“My grandfather would say you would be prized, most likely. They are… a strange creature to encounter. There isn’t much there behind their eyes in truth,” she says. The truth was there. Ciaran and her siblings inherited their curiosity from them. However, they took their ways of living from their mother and father. From their grandmother.
“A please indeed! Have you been in this world for long, Willoughby?”
“Hehe...” Willoughby giggled gently, closing her eyes with a huffing laugh. “as an adult, that would be quite amusing. As a child, they would be endearing.” She points this out, amused by her own words. Those walking around with wings on their arse... and Ciaran wouldn't know where to look. She seemed to be a proper little lady.
“Your grandfather is too kind” her head slips respectfully, mindful of the elder “I think I am plain though” Willoughby admits “there are many, many pegasi around. Some colored brighter than I am.” Another admission, but not insulted about it. She had seen plenty of winged beasts. Every one had their own beauty.
“A few months” she moves onto the next topic “I do not have a court, so the natives have taken to calling me a vagabond. What about yourself?”
“she speaks”
if you don't want to see me dancing with somebody new
