I S O R A T H Intoxicating, yes, it was an apt description for the sights, sounds and delights Denocte had to offer. How did any who came, ever managed to leave? How did they find it in themselves to return to the Courts from which they'd came? Had they spent their last remaining days in melancholy, silently wondering how they may extend their time within Calligo's realm for just a little longer. He imagined so, because he too is now one of those souls. Isorath had come to Denocte with purpose, to see his knowledge expanded upon and carefully inked in tomes for ages to come, so that others might drink deep and be enraptured by what they found there. Little by little, as the days had come and gone, he had found himself each time his head had found the comfort of his pillows, that another night coloured rose had bloomed in his rib cage, overtaking the garden of dusk lilies that had woven themselves intimately around the ivory bars. The night air is pleasant and warm against his shimmering hide, the light of the moon and stars twinkled off his gilded scales softly, illuminating them further as the Kirin gazed out at the mirror lake. There but not really, his mind was elsewhere at war with his thoughts, and his heart, oh it danced in time to the faint sound of drums and the muffled singing carried on the wind. It dared to shake the chains which shackled it, rattled them against the icy bars of the prison Isorath had encased it in long ago. If he had been more present, he would of spied the stranger who danced to the rhythm of Denocte. Yet, he was Taeryn first and foremost, blood of dragons and dragon-blessed. Who dared disturb a dragon at rest? Even outside of his homeland's protection, where slavers skulked and sorcerers with their dark magic, they too had to tread carefully. The kirins still had teeth and claws, even without their fabled beasts and magic to pull to them. Hello. Immediately he's pulled back into himself at the kind greeting, ears flicked backwards and then forth again as his head snapped to the source of the voice. If he had been surprised, he didn't let it show, instead his features are perfectly schooled into a look of neutral curiosity. "Hello." He responded coolly, trained politeness heavy on his greeting. He had wanted a distraction from his tumultuous thoughts, hadn't he? It seemed Calligo had answered his prayers, in one way or another. The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable, it is not the first time he's had others simply greet him and then take his form in. An exotic oddity from a land shrouded in smoking seas and mystery. He's content to endure the roaming eyes with a smirk barely concealed on his pale maw, his head lifted higher to better showcase his appearance. It also gives him the perfect opportunity to return the favor. Four wings are an oddity to him too, a first for him to have witnessed. Not even in Vectaeryn he had spied such beauty. Or, if he had witnessed such a unique attribute, the equine blessed with them was so utterly droll that his mind made sure to wipe them from his memory completely. Then his coat, as white as snow, with deliberate smattering of the earths colours, rich and warm. The tones reminded him of autumn in Sunsyia. Your wings, they're marvelous. A silver brow rose as his silver lashes fluttered toward the blushing stallion, shifting a little, his wings lifted from his sides to better reveal them. "Thank you, though my Gods are truly the ones that deserve the praise." His accent is heavy on his words, or as heavy as such an accent could get, for his was lilted, flowing and musical. "I only deserve a fraction, for keeping them looking marvelous." He winked, though his curiosity is back in his next breath. "Your wings," Isorath began, mulling over his words as his gaze lingered on the warm plumage, "they're beautiful, but is it not tiring to have two sets of them? I could not imagine having two sets of these." He mused, his attention moved back to his own as they lowered and resumed their post resting at his sides. "sunshine dasies butter mellow!" TAG: @Zaius |
