He draws ever nearer, so near she can see salt speckling his skin where the sea water dries in the chill wind coming off the ocean before them. So close that she can see the flecks of his strange, ice eyes. Pale and dull on this cloud covered day by the sea. Samaira thinks their eyes may be similar but that is where any similarity between them ends.
And oh, if it does not delight her even the smallest bit, how vastly different she can be from every other equine she meets. She is earth and sun and spring, and he is ice and ocean and winter. They stand as opposites, her made for the sky and he the water. Her fascination is deep and bright in her eyes as she looks at him. And when the crystals of ice begin to form at his feet there is, perhaps, a little awe and a little fear in her gaze and the fact that she isn't sure whether she should smile or frown.
Samaira thinks of the last time she saw magic, and she thinks of pretend wings made of shadows. A shiver passes down her spine, but if from her memories or the cold she can't tell.
When his countenance changes, everything that makes up Samaira wants to shy away from him. To put space between their bodies. The feathers of her good wing quiver, and if she could fly she might have, not unlike that fateful day. If she could she might run away to the sky, but she can't. Instead she boldly, bravely, foolishly holds her ground and let's him speak.
The pegasus doesn't miss the gleam of his teeth, even in the dull light, as he asks her what he looks like. “Like a man,” she says, looking into his winter eyes, then, “like me.” And Samaira doesn't mean it as though they could be mistaken for one another because it is obvious they could not. She means it that, Kelpies, Siren and Hunter of the Sea or not. Pegasus, Rider of the Skies or not. They are both equines, with hearts that beat and lungs that breathe.
“But,” she continues. Bravely, perhaps stupidly, the woman takes her eyes off him to look out over the blue green waves again. “Maybe that is the problem. That beasts so easily look like men,” and there is something haunted in the silver of her eyes. Something inside her whispers Cassius softly, again and again and again. The shiver that crawls over her skin this time is certainly not of the biting wind and she closes her eyes and breathes. Once, twice, thrice. When she opens them again, she finds him, still there on the beach. Still sea foam and salt and ice.
“How would you like me to see you?”
And oh, if it does not delight her even the smallest bit, how vastly different she can be from every other equine she meets. She is earth and sun and spring, and he is ice and ocean and winter. They stand as opposites, her made for the sky and he the water. Her fascination is deep and bright in her eyes as she looks at him. And when the crystals of ice begin to form at his feet there is, perhaps, a little awe and a little fear in her gaze and the fact that she isn't sure whether she should smile or frown.
Samaira thinks of the last time she saw magic, and she thinks of pretend wings made of shadows. A shiver passes down her spine, but if from her memories or the cold she can't tell.
When his countenance changes, everything that makes up Samaira wants to shy away from him. To put space between their bodies. The feathers of her good wing quiver, and if she could fly she might have, not unlike that fateful day. If she could she might run away to the sky, but she can't. Instead she boldly, bravely, foolishly holds her ground and let's him speak.
The pegasus doesn't miss the gleam of his teeth, even in the dull light, as he asks her what he looks like. “Like a man,” she says, looking into his winter eyes, then, “like me.” And Samaira doesn't mean it as though they could be mistaken for one another because it is obvious they could not. She means it that, Kelpies, Siren and Hunter of the Sea or not. Pegasus, Rider of the Skies or not. They are both equines, with hearts that beat and lungs that breathe.
“But,” she continues. Bravely, perhaps stupidly, the woman takes her eyes off him to look out over the blue green waves again. “Maybe that is the problem. That beasts so easily look like men,” and there is something haunted in the silver of her eyes. Something inside her whispers Cassius softly, again and again and again. The shiver that crawls over her skin this time is certainly not of the biting wind and she closes her eyes and breathes. Once, twice, thrice. When she opens them again, she finds him, still there on the beach. Still sea foam and salt and ice.
“How would you like me to see you?”
@Amaroq
![[Image: 13481303_KpOIcOG7drxHK9U.png?1556314753]](https://file.toyhou.se/images/13481303_KpOIcOG7drxHK9U.png?1556314753)
we'll fulfill our dreams
and we'll be free
