The earth at her hooves feels like the moon is breaking up and crashing down upon the soil across the mountain range. A stone inside her shadow is humming to a stone outside of it, and it sounds like nails dragging down her spine. Isra lifts her head up. She counts the sun in the sky and the moon starting to peek up too early over the winter horizon.
But when she turns to the sea, where Fable is feeding below the waves, black rises up to meet her gaze. The broken bits of her heart collapse and she's running before her mind can ever tell her hooves to fly through the city.
Isra runs to the sea, and her soul is crying Fable, and each stride makes her harder than the last.
Soon it's sand underneath her that is turning to ore, slick and studded with blood-red rubies. She paints the world in a message to all the gods looking down that promises-- this time she has no stories to soothe their beasts. This time all she has is rage, all she has is death a bitter taste on the backs of her teeth.
She has in her all the fury, all the storm-violence, of a flock of thunderbirds. Even the sight of Fable rising like a comet from the waves does nothing to cool the fire raging through all her insides.
Fable turns his head towards the smoldering volcano even as his wings are carrying him back towards the shoreline. In the shadow of him the sea is pulling back and splitting wide and Fable watches all the crabs and the gulls run in the opposite direction that his unicorn. His first thought is worry, his second is of his belly. After that though, he can taste some of the rage in his unicorn and he understands. So Fable roars back at the grumbling volcano and says in the way of monsters, not today.
Every crab in Isra's path turns to a sand-piper. Every clam turns to a gull. Everything trapped to the sand changes to something that can fly far, far away from the sea. Isra gives the shoreline wings even as she's fueling her magic into a storm-rage inside her skin.
Asterion becomes visible as she crests the final dune and she turns her direction to join him. She doesn't pause to wonder while the sea is bending away from her as if they've made, once more, a tunnel of glass. Her hooves don't falter on the thick ocean-mud and although she could change it to marble she doesn't. She runs through his clouds of rain and for once she does not think of sorrow.
Both her and her magic are looking towards the distant, dying island and saying not today. Her dragon is still dripping salt-water rain from his teeth, ready to fight any stray fires back where the starfish and the crabs cannot.
Isra turns to Asterion, and when she smiles each of her teeth shine like pearls in the coming ash-black death. She needs no moon or stars to guide her now for all the sand at her hooves turns to glowing moonstone that looks like it was torn out from the center of her city by the sea.
No island, no god, no disaster is bringing harm to her city.
Not today.
@Asterion
***STAFF EDIT
@isra has rolled a 6! She has been awarded +120 signos
