James "Prongs" Potter (_cervus_) wrote in abaeterno_rpg, @ 2021-10-27 15:26:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, c: roman godfrey, l: necrohelm, u: james potter |
Who: James/Prongs and Roman Godfrey
When: October 27, lunchtime
Where: Spooky Forest, Opalescent Mire
What: Fairy lights, anyone?
Warning: None yet
Despite it being just after midday, a fine layer of mist draped the forest floor. It flooded his nostrils, sending his nose twitching and his eyes itching. Light, hoofed feet darted nimbly over the moss-covered earth, stepping over logs and fallen branches as the large stag made its way further and further through the trees.
It wasn't supposed to be a whole thing. Not really. James had just been curious, was all. Some old man with a simply magnificent hunchback had been telling him all about the forest and, well - the next thing he knew, here he was. Without the full moon and the werewolf by his side, James had found time to drink it in - the hushed, muffled silence, the winding mist and the looming trees. It had simply made sense to change, in order to get a better look. That had been a couple of hours ago.
Something was shining through the trees. Just a little further. Prongs froze, silhouetted against the limited light that filtered through the trees. There was magic here - strange-smelling, natural magic that sent whatever animal instincts he had scuttling for cover. He moved forward, branches catching and tearing in his antlers as he broke through the treeline and looked out over the Opalescent Mire. It shone gently, sending beautiful, breathtaking light over him. And there, dotted amongst it...
James turned back into himself, barely flinching at the twisting, wrenching sensation as his body bent back into its human form. His gaze never left the lights. They darted forward and back, dancing above the water-logged mire and shining every colour imaginable. Pink and blue and yellow and greenandpurpleand... Maybe he was imagining it, but he was sure they were calling out, tiny musical voices under the whisper of the trees. James took a blissfully thoughtless step forward, uncaring as to how the water flooded up to fill his footprints as he moved closer, or the sudden dampness of his socks.