VESPER
He watches them go—Hadama with his regal pace, Astaroth slipping into his scouting instincts, Alys quiet and thoughtful beneath the weight of her own usefulness. And for a moment, Vesper merely breathes.
Then he shifts. The change comes smooth as silk, his human form folding inward, shadows tightening and reshaping until a tall, lean-limbed black stallion stands where he’d been. Starlight freckles scatter faintly across his flanks, ghostly and glinting, as though constellations have been pinned to his hide by a reverent hand. His mane and tail flow like midnight silk, catching the breeze with a kind of composed wildness. But there’s nothing passive in his stillness.
Vesper lifts his head, ears flicking forward, and then, he rears.
Hooves slice the air, sharp and high, his body coiling up like a drawn bow before he throws his weight into the gesture, shadows spilling like smoke around his legs. And then the sound comes—a piercing, deliberate whinny, rich with challenge and wildness, cutting across the hills like a blade of glass through fog.
It’s not a cry of panic, nor one of fear. It’s a summons.
A dare.
Come find us.
Vesper rears and whinnies loudly to draw and draw the herd to them.
Then he shifts. The change comes smooth as silk, his human form folding inward, shadows tightening and reshaping until a tall, lean-limbed black stallion stands where he’d been. Starlight freckles scatter faintly across his flanks, ghostly and glinting, as though constellations have been pinned to his hide by a reverent hand. His mane and tail flow like midnight silk, catching the breeze with a kind of composed wildness. But there’s nothing passive in his stillness.
Vesper lifts his head, ears flicking forward, and then, he rears.
Hooves slice the air, sharp and high, his body coiling up like a drawn bow before he throws his weight into the gesture, shadows spilling like smoke around his legs. And then the sound comes—a piercing, deliberate whinny, rich with challenge and wildness, cutting across the hills like a blade of glass through fog.
It’s not a cry of panic, nor one of fear. It’s a summons.
A dare.
Come find us.
Vesper rears and whinnies loudly to draw and draw the herd to them.
Will I ever quit playing with matches?
Why am I making angels in the ashes?
Why am I making angels in the ashes?
☆ has a pale star tattoo beneath his left eye, and freckle-sized constellations move across his skin
☽ hair changes from bleached blonde to brown
☆ telepathic: Sunlit Shadows | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 60ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
☽ hair changes from bleached blonde to brown
☆ telepathic: Sunlit Shadows | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 60ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
