Rain danced from the heavens, the sky illuminating with each flash of lightning, a silver sheen falling on the earth. The storm was gentle now, but building in intensity, rolling in from the North with a vengeance. In the early dusk, creatures of the day were scurrying away, finding their burrows and shelter from the storm. There was a hush that fell over the Dusk Court, save the slow rolling throb of thunder in the distance, prophesizing what would come next. And before the onslaught of the storm was upon her, Morpho moved with purpose southward, away from the weather.
Her mane was damp, dripping down the side of her cobalt black body as it plastered to the sides of her neck. Heavily lidded eyes shielded themselves from the sting of the water drops, and from time to time, the girl would stop her wandering to wipe them on her muscled chest, pushing away the water that clung to her lashes. She shivered once or twice, not so much from the cold, as the Spring was warm even in the night, but from the sheer majesty of nature’s wrath. As she moved, the glowing necklace at her breast bobbed like a lantern in the darkness, mirroring the motion of glowing birdcatcher spots along her haunches, withers, and face.
She was a beautiful creature, and painted quite the picture in the rain. And they would find her here… whoever ‘they’ were. The butterfly mare hoped to be welcomed here, but had enough where-with-all about her to know that trust took time and effort on both parts. So, she is wary as she walks through these strange lands, her head twisting on a swivel to take in the world around her with a cautious sort of curiosity. After all, you never could be too careful – a mantra she had adopted at a young age in life.
Only once she stumbles upon the crumbling ruins of the Dawn Court, does the mare stop. Shaking herself dry in the place where wind whispered through rocky halls, she whinnied quietly to see who would hear, bracing herself for the inevitable first meeting of another in this strange and fantastic place.
Her mane was damp, dripping down the side of her cobalt black body as it plastered to the sides of her neck. Heavily lidded eyes shielded themselves from the sting of the water drops, and from time to time, the girl would stop her wandering to wipe them on her muscled chest, pushing away the water that clung to her lashes. She shivered once or twice, not so much from the cold, as the Spring was warm even in the night, but from the sheer majesty of nature’s wrath. As she moved, the glowing necklace at her breast bobbed like a lantern in the darkness, mirroring the motion of glowing birdcatcher spots along her haunches, withers, and face.
She was a beautiful creature, and painted quite the picture in the rain. And they would find her here… whoever ‘they’ were. The butterfly mare hoped to be welcomed here, but had enough where-with-all about her to know that trust took time and effort on both parts. So, she is wary as she walks through these strange lands, her head twisting on a swivel to take in the world around her with a cautious sort of curiosity. After all, you never could be too careful – a mantra she had adopted at a young age in life.
Only once she stumbles upon the crumbling ruins of the Dawn Court, does the mare stop. Shaking herself dry in the place where wind whispered through rocky halls, she whinnied quietly to see who would hear, bracing herself for the inevitable first meeting of another in this strange and fantastic place.
Morpho
