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disarm - Faelene - 11-22-2013 Sweat clung to the valleys of her naked neck, pooling downward on the messy patch of pink that covered her chest. It glinted on her flanks, and down the sides of curved cheek bones. When the sun had began to lighten the world the red maned had began to take up a quick three-beated gate to make it to the meadow. The arrival of dawn had a chilly air, and she could feel it caressing her new skin, open to the elements. No longer did she have a plain charcoal coat. Now there were patches of pink, and light silver adorning her legs, barrel, chest and throat without any thread of hair. She looked like burned victim now on the road to recovery. That's because she was. She only wished she could have explained to Onni it was of her own foolish doing. Too late now. Here she was, ears stretched for the river's voice knowing she had many more miles ahead of her. The warmness of her rampant breaths shot from nostrils, and her heart vigorously twisted, pumping hot blood to work against the cold. Against the lonely road. It was getting late in the season of Tallsun, and she was a little worried in this condition she could catch cold. It was why she had not gone too far in the night after leaving the Throat, and the fact she barely had energy to leave the wall. Secretly, she was still trying to deal with her strange transformation. Where she didn't quite feel as hopeless, and forsaken. The river's voice became clear, and needing a drink she headed down the steady bank, reaching for the sweet water. credits for art and table argent 2013
RE: disarm - Tingal - 11-27-2013
table by whit RE: disarm - Faelene - 12-05-2013 Shaking away remaining drops, a swift exit from the bank she debates about what next. Rest or to keep walking. There is an enormous ruckus behind her. On guard she curtly turns about, letting her eyes search along the meadow. The tiger horse does not exactly hide. Was he actually walking toward her? A narrowed gaze, muscles taunt, there is a great instinct in telling her it's far better to run. He certainly must have suffered for her idiocy, and maybe he was not the caring, sensible beast in the woods any more. No, the red maned stands her ground, looking equally at his own wounds that looked far worse. It made her cringe on the inside, because they were her fault and he had not reached a healer. The dark lady had her mask on, it remained still, simply observing with a quiet air. If he should chew her out, well she was ready to embrace that. Should he attack, she wasn't sure she would simply take it. How far she come to be beaten again. Curious, and anxious her eyelids blink, and she calmly gives a twitch of her blood red tail. The strangest thing happens. His voice has a rough edge to it, tone something that made her wonder of his origin he did not say anything out right rude. Straight away she wanted to answer, she waited still careful, still cautious. The beast was smiling at her, offering a name, and asking about her. Amusingly finding the weapon on her head. "Yes, it was me. I'm sorry for your wounds. If I had known that would happen I wouldn't have tried magic. But, goes to show when I try to help it all burns..." Faelene muttered, frowning more than smiling because what she said wasn't really funny, but twisted truth. "I'm Faelene of the Aurora Basin. Do you have a home Tingal?" A great part of her was tempted to make sure his wounds were as healed as her own. credits for art and table argent 2013
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