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Zerathur A. Naszberuk
by on November 19, 2022
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Waves crash upon the golden sands of the Southern Shores. Seagulls fly above, silent fireworks explode in the distance. His shoes sink into the damp sand, and the maritime breeze of the early evening fills his lungs.
"Zera?"
A feminine voice calls out, prompting him to turn his head to look over to its source. Even though she was heavier than him, the changeling mare skips next to him with unparalleled grace, not leaving a single mark where she stepped. Her purple mane flows along the wind as freely as her loose white dress, a large smile dawning from one side of her delicate chitinous face to the other.
"We're together now!"
Her words sounded innocent, even as she skidded into place in front of him and pointed at his face. Zerathur couldn't help but laugh, gently batting her hand to the side with his own. Her purple eyes look back at his with joyful defiance, the stubborn changeling princess stepping from side to side every time he tried to go around her. Eventually, the grey-coat sighs and burrows his hands into his pockets.
"Wait, what? What in the name of Khas all of this about now, friend?"
"Drop that word!"
The chloromancer steps to the side just in time to dodge the punch she aimed at his chest. She misses wildly, spinning in place and nearly tripping over herself, giving the stallion just enough time to hasten the pace and continue his walk along the shore. Once she finally regained composure, she ran back up to him and strutted around by his side, whistling with the hands behind her back.
"So! Your sibling told me you cry your eyes out when I leave for the mainland---"
"Sibling, you mean Four Eyes!? That lying lardhead!"
"--- And that you! Have difficulty deciding stuff, so I've decided for you! Don't worry, I'll be making all of your choices from here on out. O k a y ?"
Her grin somehow grows even further as she stares at his dumb surprised/betrayed expression. She wastes no time, taking ahold of his wrist and dragging his hand out of the pocket in which it hid, just so she could hold it.
"Just because a set of stubs have grown at the top of your head doesn't mean you're a queen yet, you've no right to command me like that!"
"That's not a no!"
She runs ahead, her hand slipping away from his as she laughs loudly and proudly. Zerathur chuckles and follows for a few steps, but his smile diminishes as her details fade. Just ten feet away, all that could be seen was her white silhouette running over the sand. The smile on his face, whilst weak, remains still even as he raises his hand and snaps his fingers, the illusionary phantom of his lover fully dissolving.
Post in: Lore