The young emissary had a lot on her plate. She balanced the responsibilities of her position, her romantic and personal interests, and being a kelpie (without murdering anyone (yet)) with startling ease. Or at least what appeared to be ease. Anandi was very careful to cultivate a certain image of herself, and “unkempt, stressed, falling apart” was not what she was going for.
Unfortunately her lifestyle required frequent trips to the ocean. It was lucky for her, then, that her kingdom of employ was located so close to the cliffs. It was unlucky that its proximity meant everyone could see her come and go. This was not a problem during the summer months, but winter hit quick and hard, and every day she felt the inevitable being murmured behind her back as she left: there she goes again. Why does the emissary spend so much time by the water in this freezing weather?
It was only made worse when she sometimes returned soaking wet and reeking of the angry sea. A wild look in her eyes, savage glee in the curl of her dark lips. There was something alien about her then, something as horrible as it was beautiful.
No trace of her… deeper nature… is apparent today as Anandi trudges through the thick snow toward the court proper. Her skin oddly damp and briny, clean and slick, but that is the only thing other about her. Her features are unusual-- piercing green kohl-lined eyes, coral-pink fringe proud as a crown-- but not particularly suspicious.
She passes a stranger (another stranger, there were so many of them these days) and calls out with a silken purr. “Lost?” They always were. Whatever disdain she might feel is locked down deep; she smiles like there is nothing easier in the world.
Anandi keeps walking. The other mare could stay there gawking like a fool, or she could keep up.
A N A N D I
"Please,” she said, “you’re so beautiful. You may eat me if you like.
I’d sooner be eaten by you than fed by anyone else."
Unfortunately her lifestyle required frequent trips to the ocean. It was lucky for her, then, that her kingdom of employ was located so close to the cliffs. It was unlucky that its proximity meant everyone could see her come and go. This was not a problem during the summer months, but winter hit quick and hard, and every day she felt the inevitable being murmured behind her back as she left: there she goes again. Why does the emissary spend so much time by the water in this freezing weather?
It was only made worse when she sometimes returned soaking wet and reeking of the angry sea. A wild look in her eyes, savage glee in the curl of her dark lips. There was something alien about her then, something as horrible as it was beautiful.
No trace of her… deeper nature… is apparent today as Anandi trudges through the thick snow toward the court proper. Her skin oddly damp and briny, clean and slick, but that is the only thing other about her. Her features are unusual-- piercing green kohl-lined eyes, coral-pink fringe proud as a crown-- but not particularly suspicious.
She passes a stranger (another stranger, there were so many of them these days) and calls out with a silken purr. “Lost?” They always were. Whatever disdain she might feel is locked down deep; she smiles like there is nothing easier in the world.
Anandi keeps walking. The other mare could stay there gawking like a fool, or she could keep up.
"Please,” she said, “you’re so beautiful. You may eat me if you like.
I’d sooner be eaten by you than fed by anyone else."
@
some say the loving and the devouring are all the same thing
☾
