i dream in phosphorescence Posted on January 1, 2024 at 03:04:13 AM by Helios
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It wasn't hard to spot Helios today. The rich chestnut coat of the stallion was stark against the pale beach as he strode out upon it. The brown of his eyes glinted in the afternoon sun as he gazed out over the water. Helios had been observing the borders of his part of the territory, establishing by way of scent that these ways were watched and guarded. His keen gaze swung to the right, from the southwest waters northerly to the west.
That was when he just barely caught sight of a creature in the waves. The creaminess of them had been lost in the whitecaps of the waves until they neared the beach some way down the beach. Alarm at any unexpected arrival lit a burning strangeness in him. The next few minutes would determine how that surge would be put to use: skirmishing to protect what little he had, otherwise becoming hospitable, or some other venture might assert itself. With the pale length of tail lifted high in an arabesque fashion, Helios quickly came down the shoreline to meet them.
It was a mare, pale and staring out of the waves once she found her footing. They were quite dissimilar, the pair of them: he dark as dune sand in cacti shadows and she a whisper of moonbeams. His dark eyes ran over what they could find of her body. For the most part, the mare appeared hale, save for bites that still puckered unhealed. He could hardly see any of her tears from the angle and the saltwater still sluicing from her mane.
His countenance was questioning, largely after her well-being. Had they met elsewhere, she might have thought him a charmer or a rake as Helios was all too eager to entertain and woo a lady. Now, though, there on the shoreline of his home with wounds still fresh upon her skin, that was the last thing she needed and the last thing she would get. This Helios was serious with his eyes stealing back out over the water for any who would pursue her. Not knowing if she had heard his approach over the sound of the waves, the flaxen chestnut male nickers carefully to her. When she does turn to him, his head will be slightly lowered trying to convey that he meant no harm to her through body language.