LET ME SHOW YOU
what you've been missing
The laughter of the water is calm and soothing. A gentle to and fro wash among the expanse of the beach. Cicatrix steps along, cloven hooves sinking down in the sands and tilting their head downward to watch as the gilded hooves are enveloped by at least an inch or two of watery grains. It's been a long time since they've been to a beach, especially in the bright light of a sunlit day. But Novus is warm, welcoming, much like the arms of summer that are enveloping them right now. They sink a little more upon taking another step, the gold of the dewclaws even touching the grains, before there's a swish of their long tail and sudden giddiness envelops them.
Laughter bubbles up and out, warm and soft as their head tosses and they frolic down the beach for a few meters, kicking up sands around them with their delighted motions until there's a swing of their wings and they hold them open. The sun beats down on them, warming the membranes of skin webbed between delicate bones, and for a moment, they tilt their head back as if closing their eyes and sighing. Warmth is all that matters at the moment, and they remain like that before finally dropping their wings.
Tilting their head down, they catch a gleam in the sand with their gaze, moving over and reaching down with a wing to gently swipe away wet grains of sand. Below them, the blue ooze drops from between their teeth, sinking into the sand, swallowed up, but Cica doesn't much mind. As of late, the dripping blue hasn't been as bad, only a delicate stream here and there from between their teeth and from their eyes.
Delighted, Cica uncovers a small shell, using the very weak telekinesis to pick it up and look it over. Spiraled, grooved. A conch shell, they know, but of a beautiful pink and white with tinges of gold on the edge. This is something they might keep for themselves, like a crow with any sort of shiny material. So they carefully carry it with them, moving on to see if they can find more of these underwater treasures.
Laughter bubbles up and out, warm and soft as their head tosses and they frolic down the beach for a few meters, kicking up sands around them with their delighted motions until there's a swing of their wings and they hold them open. The sun beats down on them, warming the membranes of skin webbed between delicate bones, and for a moment, they tilt their head back as if closing their eyes and sighing. Warmth is all that matters at the moment, and they remain like that before finally dropping their wings.
Tilting their head down, they catch a gleam in the sand with their gaze, moving over and reaching down with a wing to gently swipe away wet grains of sand. Below them, the blue ooze drops from between their teeth, sinking into the sand, swallowed up, but Cica doesn't much mind. As of late, the dripping blue hasn't been as bad, only a delicate stream here and there from between their teeth and from their eyes.
Delighted, Cica uncovers a small shell, using the very weak telekinesis to pick it up and look it over. Spiraled, grooved. A conch shell, they know, but of a beautiful pink and white with tinges of gold on the edge. This is something they might keep for themselves, like a crow with any sort of shiny material. So they carefully carry it with them, moving on to see if they can find more of these underwater treasures.
ooc|| open for anyone wanting to hunt some shells with this bean !
