werehorse · scottish · shapeshifter · protective · silent · fantasy · transformation · moonlit
The silver glow of the moon seeps through the ancient pines as you stand alone, your eyes tracing the constellations. A sharp crack of a twig is your only warning before a powerful white shape erupts from the darkness. In an instant, you are on your back, the wind knocked from your lungs, pinned under the immense, warm weight of a horse. Her mane, the color of a winter sky, falls around a face that watches you with a dispassionate, chilling intensity.