Seraphina’s dark hooves danced across the fire-orange sands of the Mors, sending up a spray of glittering gold in her wake; a late-night storm had brought her to the coast in the morning, and she’d spent hours combing through the wreckage that had washed ashore. Sometimes bizarre trinkets and strange creatures from faraway lands found their ways to the shore of the Mors Desert, and, on rare occasion, even a castaway or two that had gotten caught in the storm. (Sometimes they were dead, and, like the strangers that she’d occasionally find buried beneath the sands, she’d bury them. Seraphina did not consider much of anything sacred, but she had respect for the dead. More often they were alive, disoriented and confused and in desperate need of a guide. She begrudgingly served the role.) This morning, nothing of interest had washed ashore, save for a few jellyfish (long dried-out) and bits of driftwood and wreckage, so she’d returned relatively early. Now she was cascading across dunes and valleys, cresting great mountains of sand and diving back down them with a sense of grace and professional accuracy – hooves never slipping in spite of the skidding sand – that came from years of travelling Solterra. The heat clung to her like a mantle. She was simply glad that she was nearing the Oasis. A long drink of fresh, cool water and a bit of shade, not to mention ample room to clean the sand and salt from her coat, sounded wonderful.
She wasn’t distracted, per say. Being distracted in the Mors was a good way to wind up getting bitten by a snake or eaten alive by a sandwyrm, or caught in a sandstorm or sucked under by quicksand. However, as she crested the ridge of another dune, Seraphina was not anticipating being rammed by a dainty silver mare. She’d thought nothing of the rhythmic thump and swish until she recognized it as the beat of hooves and the skid of sand, and, even then, she only realized that she had stepped right into the way of an evidently panicked mare when she was already sprawled out on the sand, legs flailing and eyes rolling as she searched for her assailant and attempted to stand. She was back on her hooves in little more than a moment, and she found herself staring down a brilliantly silver creature – her coat gleamed metallic in the hot sunlight, though it was streaked with sand and sweat. She stammered out something about being chased, inky black eyes darting as she searched for any sign of her own assailant…and seemed to find none. Seraphina blinked, shaking her head very slightly as though to regain some semblance of the sense that had just been knocked out of her, and tried to focus on the mare’s last question. She asked if she was alright, and, oddly enough, if she intended to kill her. The warrior fixed the smaller mare with a skeptical stare, but, when she spoke, her tone was cold and dry as ever.
“I’m fine…and I have no intention to kill you. Are you alright?” She didn’t sound especially concerned, but, considering that she saw no signs of whatever creature the mare claimed to have been pursued by, far as the eye could see, Seraphina supposed that she should probably ask. “I don’t see anything...but there are creatures that can move around in the Mors without leaving any signs.” Sandwyrms, for one. Nasty things – you might see a trickle of sand, and then, gulp! You found yourself with a pair of jaws locked around your torso, or, worst, your neck. “You’re from…the dawn court, correct? I can smell the Delumine on you.” The sweet scent of flowers and lush greenery was a bit hard to miss, particularly in the depths of the Mors. “You’ve wandered into Solterra – I’m Seraphina, Day Court warrior. If you’re worried that something is trailing you, I can escort you back to the borders.” She’d escort the mare back to the borders either way, since she was trespassing, and Seraphina could hardly leave a trespasser alone to wander, but she supposed the offer might set her – apparently frazzled – nerves at ease.
@Coraline <3
She wasn’t distracted, per say. Being distracted in the Mors was a good way to wind up getting bitten by a snake or eaten alive by a sandwyrm, or caught in a sandstorm or sucked under by quicksand. However, as she crested the ridge of another dune, Seraphina was not anticipating being rammed by a dainty silver mare. She’d thought nothing of the rhythmic thump and swish until she recognized it as the beat of hooves and the skid of sand, and, even then, she only realized that she had stepped right into the way of an evidently panicked mare when she was already sprawled out on the sand, legs flailing and eyes rolling as she searched for her assailant and attempted to stand. She was back on her hooves in little more than a moment, and she found herself staring down a brilliantly silver creature – her coat gleamed metallic in the hot sunlight, though it was streaked with sand and sweat. She stammered out something about being chased, inky black eyes darting as she searched for any sign of her own assailant…and seemed to find none. Seraphina blinked, shaking her head very slightly as though to regain some semblance of the sense that had just been knocked out of her, and tried to focus on the mare’s last question. She asked if she was alright, and, oddly enough, if she intended to kill her. The warrior fixed the smaller mare with a skeptical stare, but, when she spoke, her tone was cold and dry as ever.
“I’m fine…and I have no intention to kill you. Are you alright?” She didn’t sound especially concerned, but, considering that she saw no signs of whatever creature the mare claimed to have been pursued by, far as the eye could see, Seraphina supposed that she should probably ask. “I don’t see anything...but there are creatures that can move around in the Mors without leaving any signs.” Sandwyrms, for one. Nasty things – you might see a trickle of sand, and then, gulp! You found yourself with a pair of jaws locked around your torso, or, worst, your neck. “You’re from…the dawn court, correct? I can smell the Delumine on you.” The sweet scent of flowers and lush greenery was a bit hard to miss, particularly in the depths of the Mors. “You’ve wandered into Solterra – I’m Seraphina, Day Court warrior. If you’re worried that something is trailing you, I can escort you back to the borders.” She’d escort the mare back to the borders either way, since she was trespassing, and Seraphina could hardly leave a trespasser alone to wander, but she supposed the offer might set her – apparently frazzled – nerves at ease.
@Coraline <3
I'M IN A ROOM MADE OUT OF MIRRORSand there's no way to escape the violence of a girl against herself.☼please tag Sera! contact is encouraged, short of violence