[B] On the Prowl (Blessing: Skullfetcher & ???)

[Dizzy_Kat]

She was egg heavy. Of course she was egg heavy. She'd questioned the possibility before in her past. She was no fumble-footed filly after all but never had she felt the weight of life inside of her. Motherhood had never been at the forefront of Skullfetchers mind. She had no desire to raise hoards of foals. Neither did she particularly dislike the idea. It had just never been a life goal like it seemed for some does she crossed paths with. Skullfetcher's whims and desires changed direction as easily as the breeze that ruffled her thick wiry mane. Long term planning wasn't her thing.

Also like the wind though, when she chose a direction she could become a force to be reckoned with. As such, Skullfetcher now found herself stalking within the swamp, feeling the press of trees close against her body, the heat and dampness of the swamp weighing down her fur and the twisted roots tugging at her hooves. She was a child of the wide open plains in her heart and this was no place for her to reside, but for the sake of her future foals there would be no deterring her.

Skullfetcher was on the hunt and there would be no rest till she found her prey.

phoenix kiss

Ready for you!

Araucana

Quoting you so you can see this too biggrin

 

[phoenix kiss]

The swamp got steamy and hot as winter came to an end -- so hot, the air so thick, that Longstride wasn't sure he was going to actually be able to get airborne. His feathers lay damp and heavy against his back, and even the tree branch he laid on, one back leg dangling (having slipped carelessly off) was slick beneath him. He had claws dug in, just to be safe. He was getting better at this shape, and could almost tell himself he was fluent in flying, wasn't slamming into the ground instead of landing anymore.

Two bright, flashing blue eyes, their glow so pronounced it casts a blue glow on the leaves around his head, blink and then peer down at Skullfetcher as the pregnant kiokote makes her way purposefully through the trees. Longstride regards her for a moment (his sense of smell is dulled in this shape, a gryphon's beak not exactly built for that sort of perception), and then ruffles his feathers.

The voice that speaks to her is throaty, somewhat hoarse, as if the person has swallowed a handful of sand. It is also distinctive; few kin in the swamp have that sort of accent. "Looking for something?"

Dizzy_Kat

post!