Seas of Change

For the time being, he simply lay there, observing her, his dark eyes following the gentle rise and fall of her ribcage with every breath she took. Sunlight glimmered in the hollows of her collarbone, gathering like liquid gold before cascading down her shoulder. An unfamiliar feeling stirred within him, not the cold calculation of a strategist evaluating an adversary, nor the detached amusement of a celestial dragon watching lesser beings. It was something softer. Warmer. Like sunlight penetrating frozen earth.

"It’s a pleasure; for a moment, I thought you were a rescue party, but of course, no one is coming here to provide assistance."

As he laughed, a deep, resonant sound that reverberated through his chest and into the ground beneath them, the irony was not lost on him. They were both diminished beings now, reduced to grazing creatures with hooves and tails, their celestial titles rendered meaningless in this expanse of grass. His own transformation had been unintentional, a cosmic jest played on a man who once commanded others with a mere flick of his glove. Yet here he was, nibbling on clover like an ordinary horse, his horn curving backward like a misplaced crown.

"Then this is the perfect place to rest; we are quite safe here, so you are welcome. Company is company, I suppose, though the last group here refused to listen to anything I had to say, idiots."

As he rolled his eyes, he truly hadn’t intended to arrive on this island at all. The storm had capsized his ship three months ago, an embarrassing fate for a God's Knight, and the currents had tossed him onto these shores like discarded fruit peel. When he had awakened half-drowned in the shallows, his first instinct had been to call for his subordinates. Then he remembered: the transponder snail in his coat pocket was now coral-encrusted debris at the ocean's bottom. His second instinct had been to transform. Not into his hybrid form for battle, but completely. Hooves instead of hands. A tail instead of a coat. For the first time in years, there was no protocol, no audience. Just the salt-crusted beach and the primal urge to run until his lungs ached.

"You ought to have stayed away from here; this place is not for you. The other zoan users didn’t last here for long."

He yawned slowly, keeping his gaze fixed on her, his tail lazily brushing against the crushed clover. This movement stirred a cloud of pollen that danced between them, golden specks glimmering in the sunlight like tiny constellations. His eyelids grew heavy, half-closed, yet he remained focused. There was something mesmerizing about how her white fur undulated with each breath, how her horn refracted the light into colorful shards. For a being who had always been enveloped in luxury, this raw simplicity was almost shockingly beautiful.

"They were captured and undoubtedly taken off this island to be sold. Oh, one more thing, please try not to panic, thrash around, or run; it will only attract unwanted attention, but you're stuck like that."

He exhaled softly through his flared nostrils, the sound just enough to rustle the clover between them. His ears twitched as he pondered her inquiry about his duration of stay. How long had it been since the storm? Three sunrises? Four? Time seemed to blur here, only measured by the shifting shadows across the meadow and the gradual relaxation of his once-perfect military stance into something more natural and fluid.

"This island forces you into your zoan form and keeps you there, allowing the humans to round you up, capture you, make it permanent, and ship you off for sale. How dull and frustrating."

As he yawned, he spoke in a dull, casual tone. "Go ahead if you want." It was the first thing he did when he stopped running months ago, turn back, and nothing happened. Not a single thing, as he encountered others who were trapped, but they were weak, foolish, pirates, marines, traders, people in these forms, and they all got captured while he remained in this area, keeping to himself, waiting for rescue. "Sorry for the bad news," he remarked, yawning again and glancing at her. They always took the news poorly; good for her, he was in a talkative mood, having not had a decent conversation in over a month with anyone else trapped here.

"There are others out there, hiding and such; you might find them if you want, but larger groups don’t last long. Your powers are gone as well, sorry, so much bad news, zzzzzzzzz." As he dozed off, he shook his head. "I ugh, apologize, I wasn’t expecting company!"

The weight of his eyes resting on her did not feel like the starry-eyed gaze of a poor man finding his billion beri meal ticket or the cold stare of a calculating individual who knew how to efficiently use a tool until it crumbled in his hand. There was an innocent curiosity that only children and animals had when seeing something new or strange. It was the sunlight embracing the earth, the wind dancing with the leaves and grass. It was only natural.

Her abdomen expanded, white pelt stark against the grass, as she took in a deep breath. Killingham's laugh rumbled through the ground to where her head lay, quiet like a shared secret.

"There were others before?" Sylvi lifted her head to look at him with slightly widened eyes. With how heavy her head felt, it was too much to fully widen her eyes. Her nostrils flared with a small snort, sending what stray blades of grass had stuck to it to the wind. More questions bloomed in her mind like blossoming flowers in the middle of spring. With her ears flicked back, she tilted her head in confusion, a tremor ran through her shoulder, the skin twitching as if something had landed on it.

Thinking of her human form brought no desire to transform into it. The reflections she had stared at for years in mirrors might as well have been some girl with a soft, kind smile from another life. Silver hooves that shone like polished silver were more appealing than fingers that could get smashed and crushed. Food that she would have gladly dined on felt more like a nuisance to acquire when she lay in a field of tantalizing grass and clover. Now she even had a long tail she could use to flick away annoying insects.

Sylvi stared down at her hooves, her eyes narrowing when she sighed. How odd. She remembered she liked being human and there had been an air of trepidation transforming into her zoan form until now. He was right, he had to be. She looked into his golden eyes, seeking knowledge and comfort.

"Have they not tried to capture you?" There was some reason he casually grazed in the open instead of hiding. Was he an outlier? Someone to ally with?

The moment he started snoring, Sylvi leaned forward, pressing her nose to his drooping head. It wasn't meant to jolt him awake. A tinge of guilt rolled over her with the breeze racing across the meadow when his eyes popped back open.

"Oh, dear. You must be tired if you're falling asleep like that," she said and lifted her head high. "If we're fairly safe here, you can rest, and I'll keep watch." It was the least she could do, considering he'd been kind enough to offer her free information, as unfortunate as the news was.

"The world government offers great rewards to those who lend their strength and support to the ruling elite. It’s wise to align with the victorious, wouldn’t you agree? From what I’ve observed, I have complete faith that you wouldn’t harm those in power above you," he remarked, as she attempted to negotiate her way out of the situation. However, the law was absolute; he had the authority to make her his slave, and there was nothing she could do to prevent it. She was his now, and it happened in an instant—just a few words, and it was settled. He would need to collar her and brand her with his family’s insignia to ensure that no one else would entertain any ideas about her. Yet, he doubted it would be necessary, considering his status, rank, and the knowledge he possessed. Few would dare to question him or, worse, attempt to take something that belonged to him. He served a higher power directly. He understood the reality of the world while countless others remained oblivious to how it functioned and why it operated as it did.

"I have been on the hunt for skilled individuals, yet the marines and admirals fell short of our expectations." Allowing powerful devil fruit users to slip through their grasp, with abilities like healing, regeneration, and the power to reverse aging, there was a significant demand for such talents, and they would command a hefty price in the market. He was an exception, chosen and blessed, protected by the great one themselves. Nothing in the world could harm him, and he had no need for her powers. However, the inept members of the ruling class required them; it was the law to ensure their needs were met, demanding better health, no injuries, and perfection in every aspect.

"Don't run," he said softly, lowering his head and twisting his neck to meet her gaze, ensuring he was at her level for the moment. If she attempted to flee, he would strike her down. Even if she managed to escape, he would turn his wrath upon the island's inhabitants, punishing them for her transgressions. It was wise to obey commands, and it appeared she was compliant.

"Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz." As she prepared, he had drifted off to sleep again, his head bowed, neck relaxed, golden eyes shut tight, snoring softly. She gathered her bag and everything she needed before inching closer to him. He stirred, shaking his head lightly and opening his eyes. "Huh, huh, huh!" He shook his head vigorously, his neck rising to its full height as he surveyed his surroundings and then took a step forward.

"Come on, my ship is at port, follow me."

"Oh, uhm, I suppose that is the wise choice," she replied. Ignorant of the elites and world government he spoke about, Sylvi thought it best to simply agree. He was confident enough in his words to convince her he knew what he was talking about. If she were being led astray, then she'd have no one else to blame but herself for being naive. It wouldn't have been the first time and wouldn't be the last. "Oh! I wouldn't mean to hurt them! That's the last thing I'd ever want to do, but my healing abilities have limits."

Crossing the meadow back to him, she held onto the straps of her bag. A brown grasshopper crawled along the top flap, its antennae twitching before it sprang away. Had Sylvi known about the hitchhiker, she revealed no sign until she followed its leap into a bundle of flowers and overgrown grass. The bees that had been wavering in the air all around had drifted their paths to the outskirts of the open area.

Killingham's soft snoring drew her attention back to him. She could only imagine how hard he'd been working to find the skilled individuals he spoke about. Maybe it was fate that brought them to meet so that she could help his friends. He had to be dedicated and desperate to work so hard. The least she could do is try to help. As long as there was time for her to recover and they weren't all on death's door, then surely she could offer them aid and take a burden off his shoulders.

"Sure," she kept a quick pace to keep up with his long strides. "So, how many of your friends need Mr... OH!" Her eyes widened. "I'm so sorry, I can't believe I was so rude. I hope you forgive me, but I never caught your name."

Shit, shit shit he'd caught her with her hand full on in his pocket reaching for his money – she should have known better than to try pick pocketing a guy who everyone was actively making a path for every time he wandered through the crowd, but she'd thought he looked like an easy enough mark and hadn't looked closer.

She darted down a tight alley, hoping it was small enough to keep him from following as she clutched the few coins she'd managed to snag to her chest. This had better be enough for a damn lunch, she thought darkly. Otherwise this was going to be even less worth it. Another turn, this time ducking into an entirely different alley.

Annoyance, more so than anger, fueled Marco as he searched the crowded streets for the young girl. More slippery than a hagfish, Blue had somehow gotten past all the watchful eyes of the Whitebeards, who were all too aware of her tendency to wander. A quick stop for supplies was bound to be a spectacle if he didn't find her soon. After a moment of searching for distracted shoppers, he glanced toward the maze of alleys surrounding the plaza. Catching her in the act would be difficult if she saw him, but he was beginning to learn her patterns.

Moving among the narrow passages, he found a spot that gave him a good view of the shopping district and waited. As if on cue, startled yelps of shoppers as they were bumped into created a disturbance like a fish swimming rapidly just beneath the surface of the water. He moved even faster, knowing right where he'd need to be to cut the mischievous child off.

"There you are!" Grabbing the back of her Blue's top as she cut in front of him, Marco hoisted her up in hopes of keeping her from escaping. A grimace spread across his face the second he spotted her fist clutched firmly to her chest. Sighing loudly, he placed his other hand on his hip.

"Who'd you steal from this time?" He asked, exasperated already. Not a single town had been safe from her sticky fingers.

The rain soaked Vivi through within minutes as it clung to her eyelashes in heavy droplets, blurred her vision, plastered strands of blue hair against her cheeks and throat until she could barely feel where her skin ended and the storm began. Every breath scraped painfully through her lungs as she ran downhill from the crash site, boots slipping against wet earth while the ruined remains of the World Economy News Paper ship burned behind her like a second sunset swallowed by smoke. The heat from the wreckage still lingered against her back despite the downpour. The crash replayed endlessly in her mind from the violent tilt of the deck, the screams of twisting metal, and the sudden weightlessness before impact. For one horrible moment while the ship had been falling, Vivi had truly believed she was about to die like her father had not to long ago. Just another body buried beneath flaming debris before the World Government could even finish hunting her down. Somehow she had survived, but now Lucci was here. That realization drove her legs harder.

The village ahead was small, cramped, built along uneven slopes overlooking the coast. Narrow streets twisted between weathered homes and market stalls already being battered by the storm. Villagers rushed toward the distant fire carrying buckets and blankets, their frightened voices rising above the thunder as orange light flickered across terrified faces. No one noticed the bluenette at first. She was just another drenched figure stumbling through chaos. Vivi pulled the hood lower over her face anyway as her pulse hammered so violently she could feel it inside her throat. She forced herself to slow just enough to observe her surroundings while moving through the alleyways. Water streamed through gutters beside her boots, laundry on clotheslines snapped violently overhead in the winds, and doors slammed as villagers shouted to one another about the crash.

Vivi had seen killers before. Crocodile had nearly destroyed an entire kingdom with cold calculation, but even he had treated suffering like a means to an end. However, Lucci was different as the woman remembered the look in his eyes back on World Summit. A sharp crack of thunder jolted her from the memory. She ducked into a narrow alley between two houses, pressing herself against the soaked wooden wall as several villagers rushed past the entrance carrying pails of seawater toward the burning wreckage. Her chest rose and fell rapidly beneath her soaked cloak. Vivi lowered herself carefully into a crouch and examined the muddy ground. The rain had softened the dirt into deep slick patches that captured footprints clearly. Hers were everywhere behind her. If she could follow them, so could they. Her gaze shifted toward an abandoned handcart leaning beside the alley wall as an idea formed instantly.

Moving quickly, the female grabbed the cart and shoved it through the mud toward the eastern road. The wheels carved deep tracks into the earth while she deliberately stamped hurried footprints beside them. She overturned a crate nearby to make the trail appear frantic, desperate, careless. Then she climbed the buildings to get to the rooftops. Her fingers slipped against wet stone as she hauled herself onto stacked barrels and then up onto the neighboring rooftop. Pain shot through her bruised ribs hard enough to make her nearly gasp aloud, but she bit down on the sound and flattened herself against the slick tiles just as two figures appeared below. White coats which meant CP0. Rainwater slid down the side of her face and pooled beneath her cheek against the roof tiles. Her muscles locked so tightly they began to ache as her sea stone whips dug into her thighs as the weapons were hidden underneath her skirt. The princess’s eyes narrowed as she was plotting how to separate them and hunt them down instead of running. She pressed a shaking hand against her mouth and forced herself upright carefully on the rooftop. The village stretched below her in dim lantern lights and rain-swept streets, the fire from the crash staining the clouds orange in the distance. Vivi swallowed hard and moved again across the rooftops, keeping low while the storm concealed the sounds of her movement.

Kaku's search, while quick, was thorough. Slipping within the wreckage, he ignored the heat of the hungry flames as easily as he did the dying whimpers and weakened pleas for help. Every flaming bookshelf and broken piece of furniture lifted, seeking the vibrant, blue-haired woman as he worked his way from one end to the next. Red painted the ground, bubbling pools mirroring the fires that cooked the kettle-shaped ship from the inside out.

"She's not here. Must've already split." Kaku frowned, rubbing one of his eyes until the stinging dissipated. Rain pattered on the brim of his hat, trickling down to the high collar of his coat. Holding down his hat, a gale blew through the city, whipping their white coats with loud snaps.

"She won't get far," Lucci watched the people continue scurrying around like ants, Hattori's claws piercing his shoulder as he held on when another violent gust of wind rushed around them, fanning the flames of the ship. A loud WHOOSH and the fire nearly doubled, blood-curdling screams echoing within the ship, creating a sound too similar to the high-pitched whistle of a kettle ready to be poured.

"This will be quicker if we split up," Kaku said, squinting his eyes to look up toward the rooftops as rain pelted his face with sharp bites. Lightning rippled across the clouds in a blinding blaze, encouraging him to keep to the streets. Were he to guess, she was too weak after the crash to even attempt scaling the buildings. The rain would make the roofs slick and one misstep could be catastrophic.

"Take the left side of the town and I'll get the right. Kill anyone who gets in your way." Lucci said, already scanning the muddying streets for any signs of their missing princess. "Don't underestimate her. We've already allowed her to escape once."

"Right. We'll have her back in chains on the way to the Holy Lands in a jiffy," Kaku assured, taking off in the blink of an eye.

Lucci watched him leave along with gawking villagers. However, the moment they caught his deadly gaze, they averted their eyes, scrambling back toward the ship to aid in rescue or into the safety of their homes. Staring at the ground, he spotted a pair of footprints leading away from the ships that slipped into the allies. There was no guarantee they belonged to their missing princess, but he'd find the culprit soon enough. With another flash of lightning, he disappeared into the alleys, stalking his prey like a large cat in the shadows of the forest.

His ears, those twitching, ungulate appendages, turned forward, picking up the rhythmic crunch of grass under her hooves. The breeze wafted her scent towards him: a mix of sweat, earth, and a hint of floral notes lingering in her mane. It was nothing like the sterile fragrances of Mariejois or the metallic taste of blood from the battlefield. It was simply… wild. Alive. His tail flicked once, sending a cloud of pollen swirling into the air.

As she got closer he remained unflinching. There were no rules to follow here, no hierarchy to respect. Just two beings standing in a field, sunlight pooling around them like spilled gold. As he saw her horn and in contrast, his own backward-curving horn suddenly felt awkward, like a flaw. A blunder. He exhaled through his nostrils, momentarily flattening his ears.

“This is free land, no one owns it.”

He watched as she bowed and then gracefully lay down before him, her movements as fluid as water cascading downhill. The way her white fur flowed over her coiled muscles reminded him of banners fluttering in a castle breeze, something to be admired from afar. Yet here she was, close enough for him to count the individual strands of her mulberry-streaked mane. She nestled into the grass as if it were a throne, her long legs folding beneath her with effortless elegance. In contrast, his own body felt heavy, his dark coat too thick, and his limbs too rigid.

“Hm.”

Following her lead he lowered himself to the ground, his legs folding beneath him with an unusual softness. The earth gave way under his weight, grass blades bending gracefully without breaking. He let out a long, slow breath through his flared nostrils, allowing his neck to bend down until his muzzle hovered just above the clover-dotted soil. This position felt strange yet unavoidable, like recalling a language he had never mastered. Sylvi's presence next to him radiated a gentle warmth, her breathing harmonizing with the whisper of the wind through the meadow.

"Saint Killingham." He finally uttered, the words roughened by a throat no longer accustomed to human speech. His voice had deepened, resonating in a way that vibrated through his chest and into the earth below. The title slipped out of habit, feeling absurd amidst the crushed clover and dandelion fluff. He snorted, shaking his mane, not just to dismiss the formality but also to dislodge a persistent bee that was investigating his ear. 

"Just... Killingham."

The title now tasted like ash on his tongue. Saint. Noble. These were words meant for opulent halls and bowed heads, not for this place where ants scuttled across his hooves without a hint of fear. Here, titles held no significance. No servants would rush to attention. No slaves would bow their foreheads to the ground. Only the wind swept through the grass between them, indifferent to the hierarchies forged in blood and gold.

As he lowered his head even further, his lips grazing the stems of white clover. This gesture felt like surrender. Or perhaps it was a moment of truth. In this space, he wielded no power over the earth or the sky. The land bore no name he could claim, no banners to be raised in his honour. He was merely another warm body in the tall grass, no more distinguished than the plump bumblebee flitting between the nearby flowers. This realisation should have stirred discomfort. Instead, something within him relaxed, like a too-tight strap finally severed.

As he spoke, her ears flicked toward him, giving him her undivided attention. Her brown eyes softened even further when he revealed she had not been trespassing. What a relief. A warm breeze washed over the field, grass and small white flowers bowing and dancing around them. The muscles on her side twitched rhythmically when the green blades tickled her until she shifted her weight. The heat of the day was lulling after a long run, but she did not want to miss out on making a new companion.

There was a soft thud as he dropped, his bulkier frame perhaps not built for the grace of stealth. Except at night. Were it not for the yellow of his mane and tail, the same color of the pollen that was occasionally kicked up, he may have been invisible in the dark.

"Killingham." She repeated the name with the gentleness of someone recalling an old friend's name. It did not ring any bells or conjure any memories, good or foul. It simply existed as this place did. There was plenty of time for it to plant seeds that'd bloom into pleasant memories and emotions or taint the soil and evoke dreadful feelings that'd haunt her darkest dreams. But, for now, there was tranquility. Bees and butterflies hovered around them, occasionally landing on a leg or ear before buzzing and fluttering off.

An overwhelming serenity blanketed her as they lay in the field. Swiveling her ears, she could only hear the soft drone of the bees bumping into their flowers and the soft breaths they exchanged. She rolled over onto her side and lay her head on the soft ground. Snorting when a few strands of grass invaded her oval nostrils, she thought back on her arrival.

"I came to rest," she replied. That sounded right. The last she remembered, she'd been traveling on the sea for quite some time. The island had been a godsend on the blue expanse. A chance to stretch her legs and explore. But had she been alone? That, she could not recall. What she did remember was the undeniable desire to change to her zoan form, feel the wind rush around her, and the small, growing desire to munch on the grass. Odd. That had never crossed her mind in previous transformations, but she did not dwell on it.

"I assume you're here to rest as well? Not too many islands in this stretch of sea." She stretched her neck, dragging her cheek over the clovers until she found a pillowy patch. The ground seemed to hum under her and a black beetle clinging to one of the blades of grass she blew on swiftly took flight. Sylvi followed it only for a moment before sitting back up to look at him. "Do you plan to be here long?"

"Ugh." As his hands lifted into the air, a dream cloud materialized above him, soft, white, and fluffy, appearing very real as he pushed his hands into it and gently wiggled his fingers. The doe she had rescued turned and fled, lingering not too far away as he gazed at it with drowsy eyes. In an instant, it vanished, transforming into a cloud of smoke; the creature was not even real, merely a figment of his imagination that he had conjured from his dreams for her to discover. As his hands fell, everything he had created gradually dissipated around them. He had accomplished what he had come for.

"That was quite remarkable," he remarked to her, gazing down at her as his yellow tail lazily flicked behind him. The clouds of smoke that enveloped his shoulders swayed in a similarly relaxed manner. He lowered his long neck so that his oddly shaped head was at eye level with hers, allowing him to meet her gaze for a brief moment. A soft inhalation and exhalation from the respirator covering his snout accompanied his silent observation of her. It appeared the reports were accurate; she was indeed a genuine healer, and a formidable one at that. The marines would seek her out, and the world government would demand her presence. However, it was the ruling class of the world that he was here for; they required the finest of the finest, and she would be utilized to ensure that none of them fell ill, suffered, or, worse yet, perished due to their foolish and reckless actions.

"Many friends," he stated to her, which was indeed the truth. Her abilities could assist a vast number of individuals, albeit the wrong type of individuals from her mortal perspective, no doubt. Yet, he scarcely cared about that, especially as he found himself on the verge of dozing off while standing before her, yawning softly as his eyes momentarily closed.

"I must take you with me now back to the holy lands. Would you prefer to be shackled, rendered unconscious, or will you accompany me willingly?"

As his head lowered, she interlaced her fingers over her stomach and took a step back. While she did not flee, there was an air of unease that flowed around her like the clouds around his shoulders. Helping someone quickly and then going their separate ways right after was ideal. Aiding many? No... that spelled another disaster she didn't have the heart to bear.

"Oh, I... uhm...that wouldn't be wise." Sylvi quickly held up her hands with apologetic eyes. "My abilities have drawbacks that may cause more harm than good. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble for bringing danger to your friends and I certainly wouldn't want them to end up any worse either." It was why she tried to hide her abilities. People saw an instant healer and would line up in droves to have anything from minor aches to life-threatening conditions cured. The looming guilt of knowing she could ease their suffering and not doing it prevented her from ever saying no. She'd grit her teeth through whatever agonizing pain they had endured, allowing her own regenerative abilities to heal her. Unfortunately, it took time and energy to do so. Death was not an option, not by injury, poison, or illness anyway. If her abilities could not purify the taint in her body, it would be purged by defiling the land and anything that came in contact with her.

She had to prevent it, if possible. The world was already suffering enough. Lowering her hands, Sylvi recalled overhearing the worried murmurs of some villagers not long ago. Something about dragons in the Holy Land seeking more slaves in these smaller, unprotected islands. Several people had already gone missing from the town. With his last question, there was a possibility he was or worked for these dragons. Shackles, unconscious, or willingly?

The island was small with few places to hide or run to. Eventually, he would capture her. His demeanor was guaranteed not to remain as kind. She did not know what being unconscious entailed, and did not wish to find out. Shackles promised her enslavement. There was only one logical path for her.

"Let me just get my bag and I'll accompany you willingly." The sun's rays washing over her pale skin became the lapping of hellfire. Walking around the stranger, she stared at the meadow where large grasshoppers clung to tall swaying blades and fat bees knocked copious amounts of pollen from the flowers they collided with. Reaching the patch of clovers her bag was nestled among, she pulled it over her shoulders. With a nervous exhale, she turned back around to face him.

"Okay. I'm ready."

@tnacious ~Plotted starter~

The forest breathed around Onuris as moss clung to the roots beneath his sandals, and every branch overhead stitched together a ceiling of green shadow that swallowed the late afternoon sun. He moved carefully between the trunks, spear balanced across his shoulders, listening to the quiet chatter of unseen insects and the distant cry of hunting birds. The world smelled of wet bark and river mud. It was peaceful in a way that battlefields never were, and that alone kept him wary, but then he heard water. It was not the roar of a river, but the delicate rush of a narrow stream slipping over stones. Alongside it came another sound, the soft snort of an animal which Onuris slowed immediately. Through the hanging ferns ahead, he spotted the hindquarters of a horse standing knee-deep in the stream. Its tail drifted lazily now and then, silver-white against the darker woods, while its powerful back flexed beneath a coat that gleamed almost silver in the filtered light. The creature drank without fear, head lowered out of sight beyond the curtain of leaves. A lone horse this deep in an untamed forest was strange enough, but a horse without a rider was stranger still.

Onuris smirked faintly to himself. The gods had granted him many talents, but patience had never been among them. He had crossed deserts on camels half-dead from heat and ridden war chariots through storms of arrows. A wandering horse hardly seemed worthy of hesitation. If it belonged to no one, then perhaps fate had left it here for him. Themale stepped silently through the brush, and the animal did not react. Closer now, he admired the breadth of its back and the unnatural sheen of its coat. Muscles shifted beneath its skin like flowing water, as not a scar marked it, and no saddle rested across it either. With practiced ease, Onuris planted one foot upon a smooth rock and swung himself upward onto the creature’s back. The instant he settled his weight onto it, the world changed. The horse reared violently with a shriek unlike any earthly sound, which was sharp and metallic, almost ringing through the trees like struck bronze. The short man grabbed instinctively for its mane as the creature rose high above the stream, water exploding beneath its hooves, and then he saw it.

A horn which was long, spiraled, radiant as it burst from the creature’s brow like polished ivory catching moonlight, though no moon yet hung in the sky. The horn shimmered with faint silver fire, illuminating the mist rising from the stream. What he had mistaken for a horse’s pale mane now flowed like liquid starlight around its neck. A unicorn. Onuris’ breath caught hard in his chest because for the first time in many years, Onuris felt genuinely unprepared.

As desirable as large, open fields were to try push her top speeds in her zoan form, forests provided the challenge of ample obstacles to test her agility and reaction time while she whizzed through the trees. Her practices were precautionary rather than necessary. She did not go out seeking danger and situations that would require her to use this form to make a hasty getaway. However, she was not as naive to the horrors of the world as some may believe. It was always better to be safe than sorry, a mantra her parents had ingrained in her from a young age.

The sun's dazzling rays had only started painting purples and pinks against the indigo canvas overhead when she first set out on a run. Stars blinked out of the sky to form sparkling droplets of early morning dew on the newly sprouted blades of grass breaking through the soft earth. Her breaths came out in white wisps that trailed behind her as she zigzagged through the still sleeping forest. The rich, morning air filled her lungs with the fragrant aroma of blooming flowers and decaying plantlife. Morning gave way to midday when Sylvi decided she was satisfied with her workout. Only twice did she crash into trees, slipping on damp leaves and slick moss in an attempt to cut a turn too sharply. Her entire body tingled with the rush of her blood, her muscles twitched as she walked toward the creek she'd leaped over several times earlier. Without any settlements in the surrounding area and fear of being spotted, she remained as a unicorn to wade into the creek and drink deeply. Small minnows nipped at her whiskers, causing her to snort, blowing air to scare them away before unintentionally slurping them up.

As she was going in for another deep gulp, an unexpected weight dropped down on her back, sending involuntary shivers through her tensed muscles. Rearing had been instinctual; the squeal was all hers as she prepared for some predator's claws or fangs to sink deep into her pristine coat. So much for being safe and not sorry. Water splashed high, raining down on the bank, while resting birds in the trees overhead hurriedly took flight, crashing noisily in the leaves as they fled. Odd. Not a predator — unless, in its attempt to bite her neck it got tangled in her flowing mane. Stumbling back on her two legs, she swung her head, front hooves crashing back to the creek. Another large splash of water sprayed up.

Snorting, she swung her head back to look over her shoulder. Every muscle went taut like a rope ready to snap when she saw the tanned man seated on her back, heels dug firmly in her sides. The forest seemed to fall quiet, with only the hushed whispers of the leaves overhead and the soft murmur of the creek as it glided around large stones. Her ears flicked back, and her usually relaxed eyes went as wide as humanly possible. With his fist firmly tangled in her mane, it'd be difficult to try and buck him off. He was also likely to get hurt in the process if he landed on one of the protruding rocks in the stream or reaching branches along the bank.

He hadn't tried hurting her and jumping on her back didn't warrant any violence in her mind. Running until the strength in his grip dwindled passed her mind, but it might result in the same chances of him being hurt. There was only one other option she could see in that moment.

"You startled me," she said with a strained sigh. "Would you mind climbing down?" Sylvi backed up until only her front hooves remained in the creek.

“Tsh …”

For now he was hungry as he ate. Not the sharp, gnawing hunger of a predator, but the slow, methodical hunger of a grazing creature, his flat teeth grinding the tough meadow grass into pulp, his thick tongue pressing each mouthful against the roof of his mouth in rhythmic, unhurried motions. The taste was nothing like the delicate pastries or candied fruits he'd once demanded as a World Noble. No spices. No richness. Just chlorophyll and earth, the faint metallic tang of dew clinging to each blade. His muzzle twitched, whiskers brushing the soil as he lipped another clump of grass. A fly landed on his shoulder. He flicked his tail absently. The motion was instinctive now, as natural as breathing.

“Ugh.”

The sun bathed his dark fur in warmth, and for the first time in ages, his mind found peace. No reports to submit. No subordinates to reprimand. No Celestial Dragons to appease. Just the breeze weaving through his mane, the faint buzz of bees in the distance, and the occasional ripple of his skin as a gust discovered the moisture beneath his coat. He felt no longing for the respirator, the resin bubble that had encased his head like a hideous trophy. Now, air flowed freely through his broad nostrils, filling his lungs with pollen, warmth, and vitality. No filters. No rules. Just being.

As he continued to graze. His dark lips, now soft and pliable, no longer the thin line of a man used to barking commands, picked another tuft of grass with unexpected gentleness. Each tug sent small quivers through the muscles of his neck, a movement that would have seemed grotesquely exaggerated in his former self but now moved with effortless elegance. A ladybug made its way across his muzzle. He snorted, sending the tiny creature tumbling into the air, its delicate wings flashing red before it disappeared into the swaying greenery. As he looked up and saw something white, in the distance, as his eyes narrowed, another horse?

“Who are you?”

An uninhabited island with large rolling green fields speckled with every colored flower imaginable had been proven to be an ideal place to let loose. It was rare for her to transform into her zoan form and see how far she could push herself. Too many prying eyes where she roamed. Not here, though. Clumps of grass and dirt were uprooted as her hooves dug deep into the soft earth as she sped through the tall, waving grass.

Faster, faster, faster.

She galloped insouciantly until the sky, smeared with fluffy white clouds, and green fields blurred into incomprehensible images. Her observation haki flourished, outlining large holes, shrubs, or rocks that might've tripped her in her half-blind run. Each obstacle was avoided with sharp turns, jumps, and twists that were too elegant for any common horse. It made traveling to the center of the island in record time a cake walk. Reaching it, sweat coated her white fur, catching the sunlight in fleeting droplets. She grunted as she climbed a hill, heat slowing her instead of exhaustion. Running back to her starting point wouldn't be an issue if she desired.

Instead of returning, she dropped to the ground and rolled on her back when she reached the hill's zenith. With long, loud exhales, Sylvi rolled from side to side, kicking her legs up in the air. Even with her head slightly raised, the tip of her long, curved horn left gouges in the Earth. After a minute, she rolled onto her right side and stood up. A few rogue blades of grass and flattened flower petals clung to her back and mane even after she shook her body. More fields lay as far as the eye could see, all around, and not a soul in sight. No, that was a lie. Another horse was grazing just ahead of her.

The longer she stared, the more she realized it was no typical horse — or unicorn, for that matter. His black coat shone in the dazzling midday light, sheens of white contouring every prominent muscle. That wasn't what made him unusual. It was his yellow mane and tail, which from where she stood, appeared to be made of smoke, flowing in place except for when a small breeze rushed over the area. The horn on his head also curved back along his skull instead of protruding upward. If he were merely a wild equine, her childhood growing up raising horses with her parents had given her enough experience to read any warning signals when she approached. And if he were a devil user like herself, then perhaps she could make a new friend.

Lowering her head into a relaxed position, she casually approached him so as not to startle him. It wasn't until she was within a human arm's reach that she stopped. A few beads of glistening sweat still rolled down her pelt. Ribbons of excitement and curiosity braided within her when he spoke.

"Sylvi," she dipped her head in greeting, eyes too heavy-lidded to be a natural horse's. "I wasn't expecting to meet anyone out here. I thought it was uninhabited. I hope I'm not trespassing on your land." With a flick of her long tail, she swatted a large fly that had landed on her croup, then dropped to rest on the ground. The mulberry and blue hair that fanned out from the tip and from the back of her hooves fell over the stalks of several colorful flowers.

"And you are?" Sylvi stared patiently,

"If that's what you desire, sure," Hinoka chuckled, hands on her hips , "Besides aren't you the one who usually says something about 'taking you out to dinner first'? Guess it depends on how long your client list is for the rest of the day."

Teasing him of course before turning on her heel follow behind him.

"Ah you know me though I'm always down for a good burger or some hot pot."

Were he a physician who didn't genuinely care for each of his patients, especially those coming in the afternoon, he would've canceled in a heartbeat. More often than not, their schedules clashed as they worked late into the night with his secret clients and her research. Days like these, when they could spend daylight together, were coveted over most. There was a quote about absence making the heart grow fonder that he could only relate to after reuniting with her.

"Burger with loaded fries actually sounds pretty good. I can take you for hot pot next time we're free for dinner?" He suggested, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as they walked. Passing one of the techs in the hall, he gave her a small wave as she nodded her head in greeting at them.

"And so long as you don't try kidnapping me after lunch." He teased. "As much as Garp detests yearly physicals, he's never let me live it down the time I canceled on him three years ago."