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Away From the Water - Alda - 08-29-2024
A |
Darkness engulfed the waters, only the thin sliver of the silver moon lilted over the gently rocking surface. Gilded eyes that barely pierced the veil drifted over the surrounding sea. The pier was relatively dead, the silence only broken by the brittle waiver of wood as the tongues of the tide lapped gently against the splintered hulls of the ships that haunted the wharf with their shadowed presences. The tip of her crown would lurch once again 'neath the breach, the crunch of her bones shifting a lullaby of change. This was the first port she had come across thus far, a dark shadow birthed by the great depths of the ocean. She had swum its channels, an exploration to discover the world she now inhabited. In ways, it resembled the one in which she had originally been born into, far different than the one she had been buried in in the end. Sealed away, forgotten. Her fingers would drag against the cobble of the slope that lead into the life blood of the earth. From the abyss, she hoisted herself, the motion graceful as she settled in full into the disguise of mortal flesh. The last of her equine features melding into the long trail of her inky hair that drug a wet swathe that followed her path as barren feet padded up the steps. The air was cold, coaxing a soft shiver to shift her shoulders to and fro. The milky complexion of her skin would be covered with a wave of her hand, clothing she recalled from her days of a mortal, before her life was spared with the bridle slipped over her tortured countenance. She had witnessed very few people since her doors had once again opened her to freedom. She supposed she could only hope that she would not strike too much attention from passerby should her attire be too out of place. Her fingers would comb, wring through her tresses, drying them with but a gentle caress, collecting the droplets in a vial that would then hang about her neck, close to her breast before she tossed the strands over her lithe shoulder. Her foot steps would carry her through the town, gaze pouring over the buildings. Rustic, homely. A call back from the times she recalled fondly of her child hood. Most of their windows were blank, dark with those resting peacefully within, or perhaps simply empty. The streets smelled, a mixture of human filth and livestock kept close. Truly a recollection of her hometown. Maybe that's why she unconsciously loathed it. Her path would stop outside the pine stairs that lead up to a larger cabin whose eyes still shone merrily within the night. Great billows of smoke plumed from its chimney, the sounds of voices within rising and falling, but muffled through the distance in between. She paced closer, fingertips pressing aside the portal that barred her entrance. The warmth fell over her like a thick blanket, chasing away the winter chill that clung to her. Casting the delightful rouged of flushed cheeks to greet any who would turn her way. Just like that which would have dusted her before. A convenience to further her disguise. |