ISORATH He descended to the foothold of Denecote like a vision, glittering in splendor at the edge of Caligo's domain. The oracles and heralds of his homeland would be hard pressed to match his beauty now he has a claim to the finery he was so accustomed to once upon a time. A moonlit mirage on star scattered waters, framed with Dusk's last kiss. Delicate white gold chains wrapped their gentle bodice around his sharp features, dripping with gemstones the colour of Vespera's ethereal visage which swayed with each slight movement or whisper of the breeze. Like them, his eyes sparkled like a many faceted jewel, alive with life and curiosity as they peered at the sharp cliff faces and unsteady looking steps, each line and curve filed away to his personal memories. A particularly strong enough breeze tousled through the tulle and silk cloak wrapped around his scaled frame, the long train rippling across the floor as it fought to remain in place, unwilling to break the serene picture he painted against nature's majesty. The winged kirin surely looked out of place against such an unforgiving landscape, to any who happened to pass through the gateway to Denocte. The rugged walls of cragged stone threatening to snap a dainty leg or tear the expensive robe shielding him from the mountain chill, but he is unphased. Mountain's have seen his face one too many times, and he has long learned where to place his cloven hooves on unsteady mountain paths. There is a comfort to the whistling wind which caressed the thick braid of his hair which hung over a clothed shoulder and barely scraped the stoney floor. The blooming summer flowers of Terrastella and Denocte had been carefully woven into it, their perfumed scent carried into the unknown each and everytime the wind reached out to touch the petals. Isorath is not there to be some pretty picture to be captured and committed to memory, no matter how timeless and ethereal he appeared, crowned with a halo and wreathed in Vespera's rich colours. He is there because he is curious, there is something in his mind and his chest which he cannot shake, no matter how hard he tried at morning and at dusk. Something had stuck with him that night in the storm, stood side by side with strangers bare and at the mercy of the elements. While one part of him had wanted to push past the mountains, since few had already shown a disregard for borders and laws, he had decided against it. Better to start on the right hoof with the Night Court than a sour one, no matter how much he had enjoyed their company, once he had realized he had felt strangely at peace with so many in his presence. That had been neutral territory, this was their land, their home. It didn't mean he had to stay there like a statue, porcelain hooves easily taking him to the edge of the cliffside road he had landed upon, each step accompanied by the soft chime of gems clinking against one another. It reminded him of Sun's Reach, and the Cliffs he had come to know in Terrastella. Dangerous but magnificent, the deadliest things the Gods and Goddesses created held a certain beauty above all others Isorath found hard to ignore. "Beautiful." He murmured to himself, soft and full of wonder. Was the rest of Denocte like this? He hoped so, let it be full of wonder and not filled with the distrust he had heard laced in quiet whispers and eavesdropped from stories of the times before. |
@Reichenbach I hope this is okay!
