[AW] a radiant, bird-like creature --

[Seraphina]

She cursed herself, inwardly, for not realizing that she was not alone; Seraphina could excuse her carelessness away by telling herself that she couldn’t hear him over the rain or catch his scent in the wind, but it left a sour taste in her mouth. (Viceroy wouldn’t excuse this kind of inadequacy, so she shouldn’t either.) When she heard his nicker, a soft greeting that was nonetheless audible above the whip of the storm, she jolted in the slightest, charcoal head whipping around and eyes narrowing as limber muscles tensed – as she took in the gangling, birdlike Pegasus making his way up the ridge, however, she quickly relaxed. If he’d had any intention of attacking her, he would not have warned her of his approach, and she was rather certain that she could win a fight against him anyways, what with his awkward lank and limber build. He had the genetic makeup of a warrior, she surmised, but he hadn’t a warrior’s spirit – he was awkward and lean, with little effort put into his build, and he seemed disheveled (which was little feat in this rain) and hazy, as though all of him wasn’t quite there. Seraphina eyed him silently as he approached her, his large brown eyes flickering to the shell at her hooves; he asked what it was, tilting his bald face doggishly. She glanced back down at the shell, content enough to take her eyes off of him for a moment. He didn’t seem to mean her any harm. “It’s some sort of seashell, I think...but I’ve never seen anything quite like it. Watch.” Seraphina bent, reaching down to clamp the shell in her jaws again and lifting it up towards what little light protruded from the thick bank of clouds above. The shell responded by flashing a rainbow of odd colors towards the stallion, glinting and glimmering in the light; its interior was worn and smooth, but it seemed to be made up of chips and layers, a bit like an beetle’s exoskeleton. After giving the stallion a moment to observe the strange shell, she deposited it back down on the rocky ground, returning her multicolored gaze to the sea.

The stallion introduced himself as Willoughby, and, rather reluctantly, she offered up her own name. “…Seraphina.” Her accent was thick, Solterran wrapping firmly around every word to escape her lips; even if she’d wanted to hide her allegiance from another native, Seraphina doubted that she could. She did not, however, know if this stallion was another native – his accent struck her as foreign, but she couldn’t identify his scent in the rain. Occasionally her eyes darted over to stare at this strange, though evidently friendly, little stallion; he was barely any taller than her, and his drenched feathers struck her as quite pitiful. His next question made her turn towards him, momentarily surprised, before she returned her eyes to the sea. Was she looking for something? Seraphina mulled over the question for what felt like a very, very long time, but it was likely only a moment. (She did not generally think of herself as the sort of girl that searched for meaning in much of anything – but, then again, she did not think of herself as the sort of girl who collected seashells. She examined the rough little thing at her hooves all over again. It was so worn on the outside.)

She finally settled on a quiet, “I don’t know.” She turned to look over at him, mane clinging to her wet coat; the storm showed no sign of letting up, but she could see sunbeams darting through occasional holes in the cloud cover, dancing and darting on the waves. “Are you?” Seraphina turned his question back on him, though she was unsure if she was actually curious about his own reasons for being caught out in the rain or if she was simply attempting to break the silence.



@Willoughby <3