Anandi had been out hunting on land and was on her way back to the water for a nap. It was the middle of the night, and her beloved moon was but a sickle perched on the edge of the ocean. Its twin reflection shimmered and rippled across the water's surface-- dancing to an ancient beat.
(It always seemed like if she was not at hunt she was just about to, or just returning from. She knew she ought to focus on the greater task at hand, but there were just so many... urges she needed to relieve first. She tried not to think about it too much. Not yet, she told herself, whenever guilt and responsibility dared to sneak into her conscious. Not. Yet.)
Life in Novus was full of a freedom that was hard to wrap her mind around. There was simply so much of... everything. Sight, scent, food. People, my god there were so many people (although it became hard to think of them as such when her stomach was empty) of all shapes, sizes, colors. And culture. Deep below the sea, she had thought they were the epitome of cultured-- it was so naive, at the time, but it was all she knew. It seems now that perhaps her people were the epitome of self-denial instead, although she kept such treasonous thoughts dearly close to heart.
As lost in thought as she is, Anandi does not fail to notice the mare who stands at the edge of the water. How could she, when her heart begins to beat just a little faster at the sight, scent, food.
But oh, the water horse needs her water. Without a word, Andi walks past the stranger until she is knee-deep in the calm sea. The starlight reflects off the water and sinks into her silky skin-- skin that aches to shift from fur to scale, legs to tail. "Anandi. Come on, Anandi. Into the water," Anouk murmurs. The sound echoes like a brook in the girl's mind. "Not yet," the girl says aloud to the dark stain on her neck. In rebellion it quickly forms into a small sphere, about the size of a closed fist, and drops into the sea with an angry splash. "Don't be angry with me. I'll be there soon," Anandi promises her bonded, although she is not sure if Anouk can even hear her, once it is part of the ocean. If it does, it does not answer.
The girl turns to the stranger, moving remarkably quietly in the water. Something about that simple movement suggests predatory grace, although to all appearances she is the picture of innocence-- to the point it is almost eerie, given the hour and location. (she doesn't even flinch at the water's cold touch)
"You come here often." It is not a question. Anandi knows. From beneath the waves she has seen many times the woman with symbols on her skin. It was only a matter of time before they met. It should have happened sooner, but the water horse chose to watch, time and again, feeling a strange anticipation that grew and grew but was never fulfilled. From this close, she realizes the other woman is covered in a festival of scent. Feather and bone, swamp mud and moonlit paint. And, of course, the flesh beneath it all, taut and supple, singing, singing with every heartbeat for Anandi's ears alone. Her private concert, wrapped in earthly offerings. She smiles without showing her teeth-- a skill she had quickly picked up on the surface. One of many.
"Why?" The question is exhaled so quietly it might be mistaken for a soft sigh. One might even want to step closer, to hear better.
If there is mischief in her eyes it seems to be that of a girl's, not a monster's.
Very quick. Very intense,
like a wolf at a live heart.
@Leto <3
some say the loving and the devouring are all the same thing
☾
