Tria 14 81382 -------------------------------------------------------- The water dazzles beneath the light of the sun, like countless jewels dancing and winking on the ever moving surface. The air is filled with the music of the gulls, of the ocean lapping up upon the white sands and the sunlight is so warm Cestaleah is compelled to spread her wings beneath the sky beingÂ’s gaze to bath them in intangible delight. Ever so often she glances back behind her at the footprints she has left and in her mind poetry winds about her thoughts, something near contentment soothing her normal everyday worries. Cestaleah had been drawn to this place as she passed by, spying the strip of coast from a distance and meandering over in curiosity. Now she wanders down it, enjoying the peaceful moment she has been lucky enough to have discovered. She half walks on her hind legs as she goes, her arms wrapped around a pack of supplies she has along with her. And once in awhile she needs to drop down onto one front limb for it to return her to a bipedal movement in a small push on the shifty earth. The lukuo femaleÂ’s eyes drift over the scenery as it passes by her leisurely, in search of an attraction that would seize her attention enough to merit capturing it upon canvas in a forever picture. Finally, her steps halt as she stares out across the waters and her eyes scan over the crop of rocky formations jutting up from the oceanÂ’s body like spikes on the back of a lukuo like herself. The forms are covered in some sort of greenery she cannot recognize with birds perched upon it, for surely they must nest there upon its safe haven-like surface. So, with a smile turning up the corners of her mouth, she sets up her small, portable easel and settles down upon the soft ground, wings folding over her back and tail curling at her haunches. ~Cestaleah OOC: Sorry for this OOC, but if I didn't get the timestamp right, please point it out so that I can correct it. It's my first one. Thanks!
Sontag Hiligda was going places. Seeing her walk purposely down the edge of the calm-bodied sea, a bystander would not think that this 'dragon was anything more than another busybody. With nothing other than her quick, neat steps and her lack of wings to distinguish her, the bipedal purple female was a lazy eye's moment of distraction, nothing more. She was casually pretty, with her close-cropped white hair and her bright gold eyes, her mouth (tucked in a frown) and her choppy, frustrated steps precluded any deceptions of beauty. All the better, then - she wasn't alive to be a beauty, she wasn't alive for the pleasure of others. She was alive to go places far beyond a 'dragon's imagination. But she was frustrated now, and it showed. She had traveled to Terhesian on a rare day off - a vacation, ostensibly. Instead of letting loose enjoying her vacation, however, Sontag was wracked by a problem she couldn't solve. For her job, of course - not the one up there but the one down here, the real one, the one that mattered in the long run. The one that kept her up late at night and (aside from the sight of deep, star-speckled space from her ship window) her single greatest joy in life. The job that was going to take her places. Hands in her pockets, pacing sharply, she did not notice the lukuo (seated below her vision, painting an ocean that Sontag could not see for her internal designs) until it was too late. Rapt in her pacing, a leg stepped out, and found solid fur (fur?) and before she knew it, Sontag had tumbled straight over the unfortunate lukuo. She rolled upon hitting the ground, still dazed by the shock, shot back onto two legs, dusting herself off instinctually, brushing off the dirt with a frustrated, irritated gesture. Damn! She'd lost her train of thought. With a deep intake of breath (to regain her composure) Sontag allowed herself to turn toward the toppled-over lukuo. No damage done, it seemed. Staring at her mistake, wondering just how she had not managed to see the female, more than a few moments of silence passed. Then it hit her again, and she was down on her knees to assist the lukuo. "Oh, dear, I'm so sorry," she said softly, her paws searching for something to take in them and fix. "It was an accident, is there anything I can do?" //ooc: by the way, you're suppose to post in past tense. :)
(OOC: Whoops…I forgot about that. That’s going to be easier said than done. >.> Sorry if the tenses get messed up in this post, I’m not used to writing in past tense so it might get messy. And yes, fur.) BIC: Like Sontag, Cestaleah had not been paying her surroundings any mind, only set on the small piece of it that she had the intention of preserving. She was engrossed in it, in the grace of the brushstrokes, in the colors opening up a canvas devoid of life and world. Her perfectionism had her attention set on it, her senses filled with no room left to spare, entirely consumed by the idea of bringing to life a moment in nature that would never been seen as it is again. And the female was content, until... “Oof!" A foot struck her in the side, a few seconds of discomfort that knocked her over as the offender toppled over her head, a breath stolen from her lungs was quickly regained. But even after recuperating she remained where she was, eyes turned upward towards the sky, caught there, and absent-mindedly admiring the canvas of the Gods that they paint so magnificiently day by day. But the other female’s voice brought her back from her daydreaming, reality forced her to sit up straight on her haunches. “Oh...n-no. It’s-it’s f-f-fine," she stuttered out nervously, quick paws extracting her brush from the sands, from where she promptly stuck it behind her ear like a pencil for safe keeping.. “N-nothing a little water c-can’t fix," Cestaleah tried to assure the frantic pendragon. And it was true. Though the threat had been that her painting could have been cast to the ground, ruined in fact, there was no harm done and she felt no need to worry over something that could of happened, but didn’t. No need to cry over spilt paint. Cestaleah turned a smile towards Sontag, offering a small, quiet laugh of good-humor.. “It’s fine...really. It’s as much my own fault as y-yours." Damn that stupid stutter! The moment she thought she had been rid of it, it returned to embarrass her again. Her eyes, which are currently a meek blue, fell down to the sandy earth in the hope that the embarrassment in her expression would be hidden, that the heat of a blush on her face, beneath the dark fur, would remain a secret.
