“She was beautiful and terrifying,
savage and pure.”
savage and pure.”
C
alliope finds herself at the lake not because it's beautiful or because it glints like steel on either side of those glass walls. She's knee deep in the marsh grass as far from the gold and wood pathway as one can possible be. The lioness could care less about beauty or about the way fish flit like birds and other horses gasp and wonder at the secrets of the deep. She's here because of the glass feather that's clasped tight between her lips and the drops of blood it steal from her tight lips.
Here there was a war here that never came to a end. Here there is the almost dead trail of an immortal who still has secrets to spill (by blood or tongue). Calliope is here to hunt and hunting has never had anything to do with beauty and wealth. It has everything to do with black unicorns and white mares who live by vengeance and by blood.
The feather splashes into the water and sinks when she catches the scents lingering on a summer wind. Her eyes eyes spark with a storm and her lips clench like a lion's, as if there are fangs behind her smile instead of flat, rough teeth. Along her back lightning licks across her skin like a monster that lives only inside the scarred skin of Calliope.
Tonight she feels reckless and wild with the way parts of her skin don't feel like they belong to her anymore. She itches and she burns and she wants rivers of blood. Blood enough to drown a hundred gods in.
And so she's not surprised when Shrike joins her, surely they both feel the same hunger rumbling in their hearts-- the hunger of a bear and the fury of a lion. Calliope doesn't doubt that Shrike needs no words to read that spark and dance in her dark eyes to know what it is she has come here for.
Calliope, the black unicorn, the last of her kind, has come to hunt.
@Shrike | "speaks" | notes: <3
