Mephisto
dusk court spy
dusk court spy
S
he was drawn to the cliff’s edge, drawn to the momentary peace they gave. The sunrise was a bright as Elena’s flowers, stretching wide across the sea and staining the kingdom with hues of gold and pink. The peace of it gave her pause to smile as she leans closer to the edge – close enough to hear the wash of sea on rocks – close enough to smell the brine upon the morning air. If she had truly wished to be alone, Mephisto would have flown low against the waves, stretching off to the horizon without a care to the world. But perhaps there is a part of her too which is lonely. And so, she scans the cliffs for signs of life.First, she sees a Mirestag , watching it curiously while wondering what had brought it so far from the fields. Her eyes met the deer’s and hold for a moment, feeling a surge of energy emanating from him, though the warg never fully materializes. Instead, the creature blinks at her, as if wondering what brought her to the cliffs as well, before he turns with little more than a quiet acknowledgement, making his way back to the treeline and the fields which lay beyond it.
She continues past small piles of rocks, stacked with the larger pieces on bottom and smaller toward the top, wondering if someone had built them as small offerings to Vespera. While she didn’t buy into the religion of this world, the dark Pegasus does not fault others their beliefs, leaving the piles undisrupted as she goes, making her way toward Rhone without truly knowing where she was heading. For it was muted wanderlust which drove her onward now, and as she crests the next slope and sees him, this curiosity is mixed with a quiet greeting as she approaches.
He does not turn to her, but Mephisto knows he can hear her approach by the way his ears turn toward the sound of her feet crunching against rock. She does little to muffle the sound, coming to stand beside him as he stares to the sea, picking up the spicy scent of his coffee. "It’s beautiful,” she murmurs to the stranger, feathers ruffling some in the chill of the sea breeze which caresses in her wings. "Some days, I cannot imagine doing anything but looking upon this view…”
@Mephisto | "speaks" | @Rhone
