#[fallesto]

[swordduels]

❛ i'm still in love with you … and i honestly never stopped. ❜

Circe eyed them with her brown eyes while combing through her black curls with gentle care. A quiet sigh made her bare chest heave slightly where she sat partly covered by purple covers. One leg dangled freely over the floor. Her other leg bent down to have a meeting between thigh and fibula. A pile of decorative pearls lay in front of Circe. "Is that so?" After a few brushing strokes she placed the brush and pearls onto her nightstand. "And you couldn't wait until tomorrow?" @fallesto

[wanderingwolfwitcher]

Sabrina was in a state of blissful relaxation, having indulged in a steaming bath that enveloped her in warmth. The water, still pleasantly hot from being refreshed twice by a magical contraption, made her feel as if she could remain in that tub indefinitely. She had sunk deep into the soothing embrace, with only her head, hands, and feet peeking out over the rim. Her long, flowing hair cascaded over the edge, having been thoroughly washed and dried, a testament to her leisurely attitude in the bath.

The tranquility was momentarily disrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching the door, causing her eyes to flutter open as she glanced toward it, hoping for a visitor. A strange scent of steel and blood wafted through the air, transforming her initial irritation into a curious thrill. When the door finally swung open, she was met with the familiar and welcome sight of the witcher, the very one who had been assisting her through her struggles. Caught in the liminal space of her curse, she was neither mare nor human, but rather a Succubus—an embodiment of her own greed and darkness.

She was already beginning to rise, his torso now fully revealed above the water, his hooves sinking back into the depths. Water cascaded down his skin, pooling in the delicate grooves of his scars. A subtle smile danced on her lips, the familiar expression that always appeared when their paths intertwined. Her warm gaze met his golden eyes, and she took in his appearance—the blood, the expression etched on his face. It was his typical look. An eyebrow arched as she prepared to ask why he was there, but the sound of his boots on the ground interrupted her.

That sound silenced her words instantly, a contented hum escaping the creature as she regarded him. The door closed with a flick of her magic, but she barely registered it, her focus entirely on him.

[Fallesto - if you wanna write again, follow me once more on my main account, this one is dead, but understand if not x]

The Witcher climbed off Scorpion, patting the war horse and letting him go off to graze in the nearby woods, then passed through the evening rain, hooded black cloak shifting on the breeze, and approached the entrance to her sizable blue tent with gold trimming. At once, he sensed and smelled her familiar scent and the bath within, the beating of her heart, through his enhanced senses. The side monster contracts and time in the nearby town away from her had been welcome, a change of pace... but all good things had to end. He still had a curse to break, that he had reluctantly agreed to, and thus far they had only worn away at it a bit. He would have to find another excuse to go hunting, when the opportunity presented itself. Too much time around her, after what she had done to him and Deidre... other Black Sun girls, her ambitious doings as a Sorceress... whatever strange connection of destiny they shared that she should remain on his Path, he needed a respite from it all periodically. Even if the cold, hostile reception of the nearby town's ungrateful folk hadn't been much better... at least he knew where he stood with the average peasant. They made their feelings and intents quite clear.

"Here we go again..."

With a silent breath, jaw tightening, steeling himself Eskel reluctantly slipped through the door and within the giant tent... viper eyes at once looking around the magically sizable, familiar, wealthy palace-like interior. Illusions and enchantments, he knew, to remind her of the luxuries she and her upper class kind were so accustomed to... to remind her of her place at Ard Carraigh, in Henselt's court. His gaze settled gradually on Sabrina in the lavish tub, in a new, alluring form he hadn't been expecting. One that gave him pause... the heat in his blood burning hotter, one of the side effects of his mutations betraying him again, forcing him to ignore such instinctive, primal desires. To remember and center himself. In a display of her magic, his enchanted silver wolf head medallion buzzing, she closed the door behind him automatically. Folding his broad arms over his red, silver spiked leather jacket and his Witcher's armor, Eskel studied her closely, not disguising his gaze that moved along the long crimson red haired Succubus' bare form. At last, eyes within the hood narrowing on her own, his deep, calm voice washed over her no less than the water was her body, remaining standing where he was by the entrance.

"Still not quite looking your old self, Glevissig. Didn't think I'd find you like this... but I know you in any form. Horns, hooves and tails suit you. Demonic. Surface starting to match what's inside. Always been well connected around Kaedwen, take it your spies tipped you off I was returning, or was it more of your magic? "

@fallesto

[whirling-fangs]

It’s a simple enough question and yet

Who was the chef

She hesitates. The nerves are already showing through hard swallow and the wetting of lower lip, eyes shifting left then right as if searching for somebody else to take - over. Conversation has never been the strongest talent. Not even when he has time to prepare and while this approach might be seemingly innocent to anyone else, chef’s own paranoia as well as anxiety already has her expecting the worst rather than considering another option. Can’t stay silent forever though. She seems to accept that a beat later too because head suddenly nods. “I am. " Hands are quick to reach for a kitchen towel, wiping them of any excess food. She’d been preparing onions moments before and that’s the last thing anyone wants pressed against their palm. Once confident, or at least some semblance of it, she steps forward to introduce herself. "I am the chef and owner. Is, is everything alright? Was there a problem with your food? " It comes of so perfectly with how she walks, how she talks, how the trickle of sweet can be seen, but that was a well-crafted lie, nothing more than an image, of a chew struggling to constantly bring more people into the kitchen to work for her, and to keep the doors open to bring in more customers.

Kiba let none of his rampant rage show. His hair was tied up behind his head in an elegant ponytail, his pale skin empty of any blemish, his waiter's uniform fitting him like a glove. He weaved around the tables with a dancer's precision, carrying impressive piles of empty plates.

Fill up, fill up, filthy pigs, he grinned to himself, I'm only gonna have a bigger feast tonight!

It was all going a little too well, perhaps. He shouldn't have underestimated the humans' ability to be massive pains in the arse. His smile didn't fade as the angered customer, a plump little woman, pretended to have found a hair in her plate. A hair that she had most certainly plucked from her ugly wig, and planted in her dish. After Kiba waltzed into the kitchen and returned with the much demanded chef, he kept his hands wrapped around his empty platter, fingers drumming along its surface.

A little slip in his perfect composure.

"Look at this! There was a HAIR in my food!" The woman brandished her planted poison between two slimey finger. "This is UNACCEPTABLE! I demand a new plate, and I expect a gesture from you! Or I will have the entire world know how disgusting your little establishment is!"

Tap, tap, tap. Kiba pictured the woman's strangled corpsed skewered above a fire like a rotisserie pig. Yes... she'd make for a perfect appetizer once the doors closed, and the restaurant's real activity truly began.

This kitchen truly was a gate right into hell.

[slyphycho]

Faster! Faster! The Racoon looked back and sighed. It's nostrils flaring slightly as the donkey continued it's gallop. His eyes narrowed before Gary tugged on his fur. A slight awkward jolt to a stop made the racoon almost fly free from the back of the ass but nevertheless things were fine as he coughed. Sneezing out some particles of sand.

Looking back. Nothing. Not a sign of thoes guys anywhere as it chattered. Rubbing it's tiny paws into its fur. Climbing up to his head he tried to speak. But his voice couldn't muster human language. Not anymore. How were they going to properly communicate if they can't talk!?

He'd have to figure that one out later. Considering he was the only one with the ability to grab things. Standing on the Donkey's head he pointed towards the sky. Overhead the moon and stars shined down on them like an ocean. Tiny finger erected. 'Please tell me he knows what I'm trying to get at..' he muttered in his mind.

'Your smart, jackass..common!'

Regulus watched as the rope was cut, his eyes wide with shock. The Racoon, with its nimble paws and surprising strength, had managed to gnaw through the thick material. The sudden release sent the wagon jolting forward, the humans shouting in alarm as they leapt to their feet, their eyes searching for the source of the disturbance. Regulus took the opportunity to bolt, his legs pumping with newfound vigor, the weight of the wagon gone. The Racoon clung to his back, its tail fluttering like a victory flag.

The camp was in chaos. The humans were disoriented from their sleep, stumbling and tripping over each other in their haste to give chase. But Regulus was faster now, unburdened and fueled by desperation. His hooves pounded the desert sand, sending clouds of dust billowing into the air behind him. The Racoon held on tight, his heart racing with excitement and fear.

They put distance between themselves and the camp, the shouts and the thud of pursuing footsteps fading into the background. The cooler evening air washed over them, bringing relief to their sun-scorched bodies. Regulus could feel the Racoon's breaths quicken with excitement, his claws digging into his fur as they sped away from their captors. The landscape grew darker, the shadows lengthening, and the stars began to emerge one by one, a silent audience to their escape.

The humans were pissed. They had just lost a young, perfectly healthy donkey, and not just any donkey, but one that could understand them. The leader's face grew red with rage as he watched his prize slip away into the night. "That little thief," he spat, pointing at the Racoon as if it were his fault. "It's because of him we're in this mess." The group gathered their wits and their gear, setting out in the moonlight to track down their wayward cargo.

[tokcshie]

❛  i'm tired of pretending everything's okay when it's clearly not.  ❜ (lil bro)

His lips pressed into a thin line as Michikatsu clenched his fist in irritation. “Don’t.” Michikatsu started, “don’t YOU dare lecture me about righteousness, brother.” He spat. Michikatsu hated it. He hated how his younger brother excelled in combat, how he had become a peerless warrior of unmatched strength. Even more so when their fellow hashira would naturally gravitate towards Yoriichi and his abilities.

He hated it all.

He had his back turned to Yoriichi as he refused to look at him in the eyes and listen to him grovel about their broken relationship. “This is all your fault.” Michikatsu stated flatly, referring to their broken relationship. If it wasn’t because of you, I would’ve become the strongest warrior ever. He thought.

“You knew what it meant to me to become the strongest samurai in existence but you had to come along and ruin everything.”

[beforecreation]

"You killed your family?" (Regulus)

Harvester

He supposed that would be a question he had to answer at some point, even if that particular event hadn't been question in quite some time. It was so long now that the indication as to the fate of his family must've slipped out his mouth without him even realizing. He hadn't thought he'd talk about this today, much less with a complete stranger.

But instead of changing the subject, he gives a simple nod instead.

"...That I did."

How long did he put off his decision? Rationalize that the rapidly declining quality of his planet was excusable? That the society had degraded without his constant vigilance, and his attempts to personally keep the people of his planet in line had only been a temporary fix at best? It must've been decades, at least. He wanted them to grow old, too old to realize what was going on. Too old to be held accountable for their actions.

Old enough so that they could claim to have had a full life.

Sparing them would've been the least that could've been done. But they were stubborn. The planet was already dying, but it was their home, and they refused to flee. Stubborn fools until the end.

Whatever time he spared them, there was always a feeling as though it wasn't enough. But he buried that feeling. Their deaths were necessary, no one could be spared the fate of destruction. All living things had an end. Whether it be by his hand, or another's, he had to believe it didn't matter.

"I am a destroyer, after all. Even they weren't afforded special treatment."

[icybreaths]

In the depths of the mystical forest, where the murmurs of the trees intertwined with the gentle caress of the breeze, a being of extraordinary elegance stepped forth from the twilight. Her fur shimmered like freshly fallen snow under the moon's embrace, radiating a soft, silvery luminescence that illuminated the verdant carpet beneath her. Her mane glowed with an otherworldly light, each strand resembling delicate threads woven from the very essence of moonbeams. Above her, the leafy canopy arched like a grand cathedral, sunlight filtering through in a whimsical ballet, casting intricate patterns of light and shadow upon her form.

Once, she had been a powerful witch, wise and revered, moving with a grace that echoed her lost humanity. Her eyes, now reflecting the depth of a nocturnal creature, carried a quiet sorrow, a poignant reminder of the life she had once known. They sparkled with ancient knowledge, hinting at the stories of countless nights and the whispered mysteries hidden within the forest's embrace.

Her hooves danced through the muck and mire of the earth, each step resonating with the pulse of the land. The woodland creatures sensed her arrival, for she was a guardian, a quiet watcher who safeguarded the realm with an unwavering gaze. They could feel her strength, even if they couldn’t perceive the delicate spells she spun to protect the innocent and lead wandering souls back to the familiar trails.

As the sun sank beneath the horizon, the forest fell into a hushed stillness, as if it were pausing to catch its breath. The air was rich with the aroma of pine and the allure of a night brimming with murmurs and mysteries. The transformation had exacted a toll on her, yet it had also bestowed upon her a deep bond with the spirits of the land. They communicated with her through the whispering leaves and the far-off call of an owl, steering her through the maze of ancient trees. Her mission was clear, though the journey was laden with danger. She sought the hero foretold by fate, a companion of great significance to join her in this endeavor. Until that moment arrived, she remained tethered to the forest, a quiet guardian of enchantment and wonder in a world that had long forgotten her essence.

|| Asks || @fallesto ||

The forest’s breath came with a chill the deeper one wandered. Like the leaves, it started as a whisper, nearly indiscernible from the wild nightlife.

Further ahead was a hum, low and sinister. Had survival instincts not kicked in, there might have been more bodies.

Few birds scatter the forest floor, a huddle of rabbits, a fox… schools of fish frozen still in the river.

Snow was brought in by a gale of numbing winds. The trees shivered under the hiss in the air.

An iced over wolf stood frozen mid step, head down and peering into the fogged brush. Cautious.

Blood painted the snow on the other side in a disastrous slop. From the ground to being frozen mid drip from the tree leaves above; it was everywhere.

It should have smelled worse but it was tempered by the cold.

Parts of a dark claw, a chewed open leg, and greasy black hair scattered the scene. Teeth— part of bony mask… crimson streaks that led to the dead hollow body, and the woman perched atop it.

She looked on, tonguing meat out of the dips in her talons. The approaching creature was a laughable juxtaposition to the horror here, but Jewel merely stared and studied it.

“What do you want?” she graveled out of her mangled mouth. “I’m busy.”

[tsukuharuko]

This was a violation against his rights!

He who has served without failure, who has gone above and beyond, who has done everything that one could do, who has worked for so long to make the world as it was, he who shines the brightest, the strongest of the strong, a frog! This was a violation, that witch, she had no right to take one look at him, dismiss him, mock him, think that he was not good enough at all, and he had lashed out, killed her, he was sure he had shredded her to pieces, but she came back, mocked him more and then cursed him.

A frog in the mud then it was.

This would not be the end of him, this would not be how it ends, he will live, always, he always comes back, he always finds a way to overcome everything that is thrown at him and this will be no different than all the times before, as he sat there for a moment and sighed, this pond, he hated it, he hated this lilypad, he hated everything that there was here, he had no powers, none he was trapped and so he was going to have to try and escape, get out of this pond, this garden and try and find, someone, anyone at all that can help him!

"Oh. A frog."

Haruko blinked as she stared down at the grass by the sidewalk; the little animal could easily be overlooked, and anyone could have stepped on it. She bent to pick it in a hand -- frogs weren't scary to her, she had hunted many after rainy days along with her childhood friends, back in the countryside -- and lifted it to her eye level.

"You should be careful, you know?" She said, almost with a scolding note. "What if you got squashed?"

She stood up and glanced around. It was odd to find a frog in the middle of the city. Maybe there was a park nearby? Then this little thing had to get back to his house pond.

"Let's find your home," she decided, crossing the road and following the alley nearby with hesitant steps. "You shouldn't be so far from the water. It's dangerous if you get too dry!"

[frozcnlight]

@fallesto asked: "I've heard good things about you." (Regulus)

The slightest, nervoush laughter escaped Miran, truly unsure what she should say to this. It wasn’t unusual for people to know her. She was a heiress after all - and her family well known especially within the high society. Though, it was mostly rather her father who was known, rather than her - for whenever there was a gathering, she would just silently follow him and behave just the way her family wanted her to. Silent and only speaking up whenever she was asked or spoken to.

“I’m really glad to hear that it were only good things. It would be truly troublesome, if somebody would spread bad rumors about my family or me.”, she finally spoke with the corner of her lips, painted in a soft shade of peach, curled upward into a smile. She rested her hands in front of her, back straightened - just as she had learned by many lessons during her childhood.

“However, sir. I must admit that I never heard about you, I guess. At least I do not recognize it from your looks. Can I have your name perhaps?”, running a hotel meant to meet many faces - and some would might slip her mind.

[estarion]

@fallesto said: would not trust you to run a bath let alone run a party

　　　＂. . . too bad, bitch.＂ also, if they think he's seriously running this thing, they're all playing themselves. hah.

[lured-into-wonderland]

She is in desperate need for a good (divorce) lawyer. Or perhaps a bodyguard would be more useful!?

[swordduels]

Let me feast upon all that is yours

“How naughty, my dear.” Circe’s voice was a low purr as she tiptoed backwards to slide down onto her bed with lavender linen sheets. One leg rested above the other while her head tilted in one direction and black locks rolled down her naked shoulder as she did. “Tell me more.” @fallesto

[chronicparagon]

The mare wandered through the meadow, the dew-laden grass refreshing against her soft muzzle. The moon hung low, a silver crescent that echoed the mark on her forehead. She halted, her violet eyes scanning the horizon for the first light of dawn. Her mane and tail danced in the gentle breeze, shimmering with the ethereal glow of the moonlit night.

The forest loomed around her, towering guardians of shadow and enigma, murmuring secrets known only to the creatures of the night. An owl hooted, its haunting call resonating through the trees. The mare lifted her head, ears perked at the sound. Fear was a stranger to her; she had roamed these woods for ages beyond her reckoning.

Her hooves clicked against the crystal-studded earth as she made her way to the stream. The water was icy and clear, mirroring the stars above like scattered gems. As she leaned down to drink, the crystals sparkled, casting an otherworldly glow on her coat. It was a stark contrast to the gentle radiance that usually enveloped her, a reminder of the curse that had taken her true form.

Suddenly, a rustle in the underbrush drew her attention. Her head snapped up, ears swiveling to pinpoint the source of the noise. A young figure emerged, clearly not from this land, as she could sense. There attire was strange, and the scent was foreign to these woods. Her eyes widened and narrowed as she moved closer to investigate the source of the sound.

@fallesto

“Ooh! Ow!” Hushed complaints joined the rustling in the underbrush.  Please…Please don’t let any spiders or snakes hiding here. Don’t bite me, don’t bite me! Please! Harmony thought as she weaves between the foliage for the clearing.  A soft sigh follows those words.

“I knew I should have taken that turn earlier! I have no clue where I’m going now.”  Ah, well. All she can do is get out of the underbrush, take a break, and gather her thoughts before taking the next step.  The curved figure emerges from the dense greenery lined with vines and thorns. Tiny, red scratches from the thorns adorn her calves. She has yet to discover the loose leaves and twigs caught in her long hair.  Exhausted but relieved, the traveler takes one step forward.

“Huh?!” Suddenly, a sharp pull at the back of her hair catches her. Harmony’s head jerks over her shoulder to find a lock of her dark hair caught by a thorny branch.  The moonlight casts the crimson shine in that silken lock, now tangled and wrapped around the branch.

Damn it!

She huffs as she reaches into the underbrush, only to wince when sharp ends graze her slender hands.  Then, a sound halts her pursuit for the captured strands. Silver eyes widen as dread rise deep within her. That sounds like footsteps, and they are coming closer!  Terror kicks her heart to rush in a hurried pace. She turns away from her hair to the source of the steps.

Is it a friend or foe?

Could they be human, fae, or a monster?

She gasps to see who or what could be here.

“A-ah! Oh! Oh, my-“ She gasps as dark brows rise.  Fear disappears, only for sheer excitement to take over when she sees a figure she heard since childhood. A mythical creature she adored when she was a little girl.

“A unicorn! Unicorn! Y-you-real! Real unicorn!” A grin stretches her lips as excitement fills her eyes.  The unicorn looks far more beautiful and graceful than she can ever imagine. She's absolutely radiant, she can't help but stare! Her eyes shine bright in pure wonder

She’s so, so pretty! She thought, only to squeal when the unicorn approached her.

Oh, my stars! She’s coming! She’s coming over! Easy! Don’t scare her. Harmony told herself, still smiling. “H-hey.” Harmony softens her voice for fear that loud sounds could scare her. She ignores her own predicament for now. How can she worry about that when encountering one of the creatures from her childhood dreams?

“Hi! My name is Harmony and I'm from outside the forest! I don’t mean trouble. I kind of got lost and it’s now dark and stuff!”  She holds back another squeal of delight but it’s harder to contain the thrill of this encounter.  

“Um, I’m not sure if you can talk, but if you can, may I please know your name?”

[more-than-a-princess]

A sudden realization of transformation hit him like a bolt from the blue. His gaze shifted sideways, revealing glimpses of his sides that his usual peripheral vision had only hinted at. The rich scents of the forest life surged into his nostrils, drawing in deep breaths as if even the act of walking demanded the kind of air typically reserved for strenuous activity.

The soft rustle of the wind through the branches and the ceaseless melody of birdsong filled his ears, which instinctively turned toward the source of the sounds. His hunched posture now felt like the only way he could ever exist, the notion of standing upright fading into a distant memory.

He glanced down at himself, noticing a chalky barrel chest clad in once-vibrant crimson garments now faded to a sickly yellow, while blue robes lay discarded in the mud near his strangely hoofed feet.

A sudden movement caught his attention, sending a jolt of alarm through his transformed being. With careful observation, he barely caught sight of a thick, furry tail swishing past his rounded backside; his body retained its ample form despite the astonishing changes unfolding.

A breeze brushed against his underbelly, accentuating his newfound, vulnerable nudity. The obvious truth loomed in his mind, yet acceptance eluded him, his thoughts spinning like a mill wheel caught in an endless cycle of confusion. He tossed his head in disbelief and snorted, trying to shake off this surreal nightmare or drunken vision; its persistence burned away any comforting illusions.

He turned to examine himself again, mouth agape in shock—he was no longer a man but a creature of the wild.

The legends of this forest were indeed real, and by some twist of fate or magic, he found himself not as a nobleman, but as a magnificent steed fit for nobility!

Sometimes, all it took to improve her mood was to immerse herself in Novoselic's natural beauty.

Sonia didn't always have the time for it, with an often-full diary of meetings, conferences, royal engagements, fittings, and all manner of events that required the future Queen of Novoselic's attendance. It was all so meticulous, from the outfits selected by her staff the night before, to the curated menu crafted by the Castle chefs in order to best keep her healthy and energized, to her Private Secretary, who started every day sauntering into her bedroom just as the maids had pulled back the curtains and poured her a cup of tea to remind Princess Sonia everything on her schedule for the day alongside any important international news that had broken during the night, all read off an iPad as easily as reciting a favorite poem word for word.

It was, she thought, likely their most-cherished art: taking care of every aspect of royal life so the Royal Family could both simply exist as well as make the hard decisions and negotiations for the better of the nation. Everything organized and in its place, including the people they managed.

That was why, then, she cherished any time she could get at her family's country estate. 35 kilometers to the east of the capital left the busy city streets behind in favor of what seemed like endless hills, clear blue waterfalls, and sparkling lakes at the base of the Alps that ran through Novoselic. Late summer was particularly pleasant, with moderate temperatures for the season and the faintest hint of changing leaves. For that reason, she'd forgo a horseback ride or a Land Rover in favor of a hike: the first fall leaves beneath her boots, jeans and a striped sweater, and her blonde hair tossed back into a tousled braid made her look decidedly common. 

Just as she liked it, as she opened a flannel blanket and spread it over the grass. She'd been hiking for nearly two hours before exiting the forest and finding a suitable spot for lunch: at the bank of a nearby lake, perfect for a picnic and a book she was eager to continue devouring, even more than the freshly-baked baguette and slices of local cheese.

But as she poured herself a cup of hot tea from the thermos she'd carried, nearby footsteps and the crunch of leaves indicated she wasn't alone. Heavier, and in a different pattern of steps than her usual security team: it was enough for her to raise her head in their direction...only to find a horse.

Now, a horse in and of itself wasn't terribly rare: she had one of her own and her family kept several, both for riding and to pull the various centuries-old carriages brought out for special occasions. But this horse wore no saddle, or bridle, or even a simple harness and lead, so it was doubtful that it had gotten away from its rider. Sonia watched it for a moment, wondering if it would be spooked before letting curiosity get the better of her. She'd blame Gundham for this, when she told him the story later: she couldn't ignore an animal in need.

"Hello there!" She called out in French. She guessed from the region of the country her family's estate resided in, it was more likely that French was spoken, as opposed to Italian, English, or Japanese. "Are you lost? Did you perhaps seek your freedom through an unsecured gate or broken fence?" 

It happened at times: grand country estates that had stood for hundreds of years had no shortage of repairs, including the gates and fences meant to keep their residents in and strangers out, animals included. And horses, she knew, weren't wild in the Novosonian countryside: this one likely belonged to someone, who might not have realized it was lost.

[toussainttwins]

“You are implying that all beautiful things may shatter.” Eyes of hazel gilded in flecked crimson sharpen, the previous glimmer of welcoming mirth ripped away with the slight lower of a brow. Feigned or not. And yet, a smile remained curled within gentle features, and it is so that it broadens ever so slightly. A witch made to show her teeth, unafraid to bloody them with the red of the flayed man if she so pleased. She was a witch, the next thing to a God, and she was not fragile, and she would never break. And so she gives her a smile, with the fold of hands at her torso. “And yet- I have heard that beauty often hide claws.” And mine are as long and sharp as yours.

As she would chuckle for the moment. “Yet I am glad you are here.” As she leaned forward and would look right at her for the moment, hand raising to her face and cupping her cheek for the time being, before one hand moved to her skirt and would pull upon it, pulling up the crimson silks, to show her, the hazel fur, the softest brown fur there ever was, along with the hooves that where on the ground. “How do you walk like this.” As her tail flickered back and forth, as she was beautiful in every single way. But her curse, of all those years ago, with turning lovers into horses, had bitten her back, and this was the result, she was like the little lamb, hiding right in plain sight.

Who could blame a maiden that sought the help of a witch? It was as common in fairy-tales, as it was in daily life, only in the latter girls had a much more meagre desires and the payment was, as a result, less demanding. But for Natanis her cause seemed as dire as all the woes of princesses of earth and parchment combined. The petite succubus would trade anything for the happy ending of her tale, and thusly one day she put all the wisdom aside, donned a fancy travelling cape in a shade of a dryad's embrace for a good luck, locked the doors of the shop as tightly as she locked the fear out of her own heart and went to seek the Daughter of Kaedwenian Wilderness. Luckily, the infamous sorceress resided not as far as her moniker suggested, and it took the horned beauty but a short trip to the border. Yet her pretty hoofs burned with hurry, as if she was dancing thought a garden of knives, like that unhappy little siren... "Oh, I am glad too, sangbonbon!" Sabrina's smile left a hollow taste down her throat. It yearned and it burned, but not for her kisses, not for her flesh. It seemed like a tainted mirror of the crimson flower that burned inside her own chest. But was such a terrible miracle even possible? Regardless, a sorceress you know was better than a sorceress who would like to gobble you up alive... Natanis gulped, but did not let her own relieved smile flicker.

"Beautiful things may shutter...if they are left alone in this world, if there is no one to cradle their heart in their arms. For what would beauty mean, if it shone only for itself? Claws can't fight solitude." the petite succubus hurried the words out of her mouth, terrible and ugly, for all the fear they were laced with underneath. Natanis was afraid, but not of Sabrina Glevissig - not that she didn't recognize teeth and claws even if they were but lovely names for grisly weapons - of her own thoughts. Of her...loss she was afraid to put into speech. "Oh..." a plump hand flew towards the horned beauty's mouth. She looked up and down the flame-haired sorceress figure, up and down again and..broke into a genuine, sugar-sweet smile and a squeal of delight. "What a beauty you are, mistress Sabrina! Why, a fur of such a shade, like golden-chestnut-of-3-wishes... the softness of a dream, and to the eyes alone! Hoofs strong and shiny! almost as pretty as mine! And a tail..." Natanis, the weight of her iron-heavy woe lifted from the dainty shoulders for a moment, circled the newly-cursed - blessed! - sorceress-succubus, like a clockwork toy - rapid and loud with many gasping praises, sharp to the details with the eyes of a seamstress.

"Ah, do your new, charming hoofs give you any pain? It must be the cobblestones! They are a torture once you change the soft earth of the forest for the joys of the cities!" the vivacious twin shook her golden curls in sympathy, gasped again as if remembrance of something vital shoot her through the very heart and snatched a tiny, silver-clasped notebook, seemingly out of thin-air. The movement was so nimble, one could call it magic, whence it was a sleight of hand and a silver chain of a chatelain, hidden amidst the fold of the dress to blame. "I shall make a special skirt for you, with a long train, as long as a cloud on an autumn day, so it would hide your hoofsteps from the prying eyes when you walk in all your beauty!" @fallesto

[thehealerhairpin]

A comprehension of change struck him like lightning. Focused vision slid sidewards, giving him views of his flanks which usual peripheral vision only teased at. The varying pongs of woodland life rose to prominence in nostrils which now pulled heavy breaths as if even walking pace demanded air usually afforded for continued exertion.

The gentle sound of wind blowing upon the branches and the endless titter of birdsong filled ears which alarmingly moved toward the source of sound. His abruptly hunched disposition now seemed like the only position he ever could have been arranged, the idea of standing straight relegated to a passing novelty. He looked upon himself and saw a chalky barrel chest draped in previously crimson clothing now turned a sickly yellow, blue robes below strewn upon the muddy ground near his alarmingly hoofed feet.

A flick of something beyond locked his focus rearward, alarm surging into his altered self. Watching carefully he he could just about catch a glimpse of a thick haired tail sweeping past his plump posterior; his entire body keeping its amble girth despite the alarming and wondrous changes on display. A breeze was felt by his underside and helped reinforce his new found indigent nakedness.

The obvious conclusion laid itself bare in his mind but acceptance denied it, his mind spinning endlessly for some sort of mundane conclusion like a mill wheel endlessly churning water. He threw his head around and snorted, attempting to cast off this feverish dream or drunken hallucination; its persistence burning away comforting possibilities. He looked back at himself, mouth parted in shock -- he was no longer man but a beast. The tales of this woodland were true, and by some sort of enchantment or curse, he walked not as a man of nobility, but what would be considered a fine steed for nobility instead!

feet step along the cracks within the woods , foot following along the trail that aren't very visible but it's leading her somewhere . the trees are making up a trail , she's only following the light that shines through and making up its path up like it's leading her . her pink dress flowing along the brushes of the wind and at times it does get in the way making her dress be stuck on woods and sticks .

as she steps on a spot that makes her fall down a hill she yelps out . sticks , mud , and leaves getting into her hair and face making everything that surrounds her body and clothes dirty .

kneeled and dizzy she looked up from her spot grabbing onto her head . leaves and sticks in her hair hindering what is used to be a wavy beautiful hair , yet still keeps its brightness from being an orange head .

she saw a beautiful horse . one that shines .. is that a unicorn .

oh it's not . she got up from her place pulling her dress up trying her best to not damage it but also wanting to pull off the sticks and leaves that are getting her stuck . she took one step forth making a crack of the stick beneath her feet .

" h - hello horsey ! "

she said after being startled by her own step of the stick cracks . dropping her dress and waving at the horse that seems like it's lost from some sort of mysterious noble castle that are used for royalties transportation , her other hand trying to pull onto her dress as it yet again getting stuck to another stick - what a trouble .