This keening soul;
Leto is a blot of ink upon the red canvas of the canyons. The sun is low within the sky. In its dying it bleeds reds and bruised pinks and purples. Darkness yawns where the light no longer touches. The world changes and morphs as night steps closer.
Darkness is at Leto’s heels, the sea is a throb within her soul. She makes for the oasis, that pool of water sitting in the heart of the desert. The stars are beginning to pierce the sky, drawn out by the rising moon. Their song whispers into her veins and she begins to glow. The map of her vessels and the white blood that courses through them, brilliant and bright, makes her glow like a star in the midst of the desert.
The blood red of the lands do not know what to make of her. She glints like a blade in the midst of its war. Star-fire gleams along her teeth and her chin tips up, up, up. The warm evening breeze slides down the siren’s throat. It whispers in the star-girl’s ears that she does not belong here amidst sand and earth. Yet Leto smiles, her grin soft and savage. Upon her skin glow the sigils of the Ilati. They cover every inch of her torso fortelling the future, remembering the past. Magic is emblazoned in spells painted upon the canvas of Leto’s body.
There is no sea for her to sink within. No sea to calm the heat of her magic. She burns like a star, brilliant and white. Her eyes are aglow. The ebony of her body is as a dress, sleek and ragged. Scales have formed upon her slender throat. Death has changed this feral Ilati. Now she drowns herself in lore and celestial magic. She paints upon her skin a triad of earth, sea and star magic.
The awakening stars call out to their shed-star below. They demand her soul remembers, remembers, remembers just what it was born to be. The kelpie has followed their summons deep into Solterra. The sun scolds upon her spine, but oh, she burns brighter, hotter, wilder than this day-aged sun.
A woman treads ahead and Leto slinks in her wake. She died a girl, faithful and aspiring. She rose a monster and a priestess. Her every step is the slink of a lion, the prowl of a panther. Her teeth press into the soft of her lip. The air turns from hot sand to hot blood. Leto’s eyes close, relishing the taste that rolls over her keen tongue. A shiver rocks through her slim body and she draws level with the girl. Her gaze tips sideways, silver, star-fire peering out beneath coal black lashes.
All of Leto is primitive, savage, seductive. Her body is primed, it hungers for magic, for stars and bones between her teeth. The way she watches the mare, the way her eyes trail over throat and hip and shoulder and breast is like a trail of kisses, sharp as teeth, grating, tasting, wanting. Her hair is a wild tangle salt-sticky, the air is scolding around her. Ancient magics are static upon her tongue and lips.
“You roam at night alone. Is that wise?” Her voice is something old and something new. It is the blissful hiss of the surf, the keening of stars, the groan of shifting earth. It is deep and bright and wild. The bones and bells and silver painted leaves in her hair, sing such eerie songs as they chime together - the heavens shatter at their meeting. “Have you come for the stars?” The kelpie asks, aglow, aglow, aglow. Her body vows to swallow, to consume, to set the world aglow with holy, celestial fire. It just begins with a touch upon her too-hot skin.
“Come,” Leto breathes through painted lips, “let us make our bones sing.”
@Sobec - please excuse the novel! still trying to work out this newly changed girl!
Anyone! | "speaks" | notes: table 2/2!! this was super fun to make
