When the horn breaks through the thicket something in her heart leaps and aches. Every nerve in her body quivers with that same knowing, that same hum in her skin that chants, I know you, I know you. It's as if all her nerves have become a storm, first there is a shock of lighting running down her spine, then a roar in her chest that screams to put out the moon-fire glow of her arrows.
Her quiver goes dark and dead. Isra's ocean eyes blaze to life.
The angle of her horn twists upward when the doe-mare moves closer. A ray of sun glints through the leaves and dapples the hollow curves of her horn. It makes her look like another wild thing, as if they are two does in a forest instead of two more mortals caught in a game of magic and gods (although if it is a game Isra promises herself she will tear it all down). Her bow cants to the side, tucked against the tangled, leafy mess of her mane. Even the ground around her hooves turns to grass, thick and blue-green, another apology her heart knows in all its broken bits to give.
She smiles kindly and if it is a queen's motherly smile she does not know it. “You don't need to ask forgiveness of me. This island is making us all a little strange I think.” There is a chuckle half-alive in her voice, a suggestion of all the things that are crumbled and almost-dead in her soul. She swallows it back down and it tastes like acid.
Her hooves move almost silently across the sand becoming grass beneath her shadow. “I'm Isra.” She says nothing more, this is a place for magic, and wildness, and that beast blooming hot and violent in her blood because she can still taste Raum on the breeze. It's a time for lions, not for queens. And if she dips her head in greeting it's nothing more than a nod of a once-wild heart to another wild-heart.
“Tell me about this portal that brought you here, and while you give me a story I will make you a bow” Isra shifts towards the woods, where a songbird is watching them like a hawk watches small mice in a mossy meadow. She tries not to look at him, because when she does that beast of challenge creeps a little closer to the surface of her.
Isra wants to be a doe just a little longer. Then she'll take up the hunt once more.
Just a a little longer...
Isra taps her horn against a stone and it becomes a golden bow, etched with emerald ivy. A part of her can't help but think that she's a monster of unicorn to make weapons instead of purity. And maybe that's why she makes no arrows to join the lonely golden bow shining in the grass.
@Callynite
(Just a note that she can only keep the bow for this thread, unless you want to purchase the weapon item and make it official, then she can keep it!)
