[O] Run, Run, Lost Boy - Printable Version +- HELOVIA || The Way to the Sun (http://helovia.com) +-- Forum: Out of Character (http://helovia.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=1) +--- Forum: Archives (http://helovia.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=11) +--- Thread: [O] Run, Run, Lost Boy (/showthread.php?tid=25619) |
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Run, Run, Lost Boy - Tembovu - 11-27-2016 They say an elephant’s eyes speak the greatest language
Frostfall came quickly, it’s blanket of cold and white leaving no question of the season change. There was no gradual shift to the freezing weather, no light dusting of snowflakes. No, it was immediate inundation of wintery weather. Icicles twinkled from the Rotunda’s ruined dome while a layer of ice coated the crumbling columns. Despite it’s cracked and broken-down state, the ancient building had a stately beauty in the frost. The King’s ears swiveled all directions, navy eyes closely studying all of the long shadows cast by the sinking sun in the dead and dormant shrubbery. Only evergreens retained their needles—for which the Elephant was vaguely annoyed in the moment for it blocked his futile searching. The Rotunda’s charm was lost on his busy, purposeful gaze; large, ivory hooves leaving meandering tracks that marked his search for his son. “Kianzo!” His deep call rumbled, shaking loose some precariously perched snow from a few tree boughs. Thick, black and ivory limbs lurched to a halt alongside the ice-shrouded columns and collapsing stairs. His black-rimed ears tilted backwards, the dark dot on them bright against the white skin. His coat had grown thick and shaggy this year, finally accustomed to creating a winter coat in the Edge’s cold, wet climate. His silvered buckskin had become dark and rich with the added length and thickness, adding warm golden hues to his hide. But his own comfort in his newly thick coat only renewed and deepened the worry that creased his black-marked face. The skin around his eyes was drawn and lined, jaw set and lips tightly pursed. If it had taken the King years to adjust to the cold weather, a young foal certainly would not handle it well… He shook his head slightly, unwilling to turn his thoughts in the direction of death. Rexanna seemed certain that Kianzo lived. And Kiada, despite her surly mood and pained loneliness, seemed more angry than concerned about her twin. A deep sigh pushed out of his thick nostrils as he struck at the stairs with his hoof, sending rivulets of cracks throughout the ice. What else could make you feel so much without a word? Open thread, he's searching for Kianzo! RE: Run, Run, Lost Boy - December - 11-27-2016
@Tembovu - I was gonna post Myrrine but then December saw him searching for his baby too and she panicked and wanted to help lol. RE: Run, Run, Lost Boy - Howl - 11-27-2016
Howl found himself drawn to the beautiful Rotunda once again, however this time he was accompanied by a little cloud of leaf-winged butterflies. They fluttered delicately around him as he made his way through the snow. It had taken him weeks of concentration to develop his creations, painstakingly exercising the new muscle in his brain which ruled his magic. The last time he had come to the rotunda, the grey had been only able to craft one feeble creature which fluttered tremulously on flimsy wings. Now, they twirled and dipped and danced all around him, catching the dusk sunlight with leafs of varying shades of brown and rust. Now that snow obscured everything in sight, it was quite difficult to acquire leaves of sufficient quality to supplement his magic. The ones he did find were tucked carefully into his mane, only to be used when the extant creatures inevitably fell apart.
As he had been distracted by the gold-marked stallion on his previous visit, Howl had not been able to investigate the interior of the regal structure. With a sense of conviction only the chronically curious are able to feel, the stag approached the building, nose thrust confidently ahead of him. One dark hoof was placed hesitantly on a cracked step—after a moment of complete and utter silence, another followed, and then another, until his entire form was perched over the steps, swaying with an air of uncertainty. Would some strange god come down to smite him if he entered the shrine? The grey watched the wavering fabric intently, sometimes catching glimpses of the jewel-bright colors dancing on the Rotunda's floor between the gaps in the drapes. Both forelegs placed securely on the top step, he pitched his weight forwards, pushing his face between the pale curtains before him. When he ascertained that there were no idols or any other religious symbols housed within the structure, the rest of his body followed. Almost surreptitiously, as if intruding in some sacred space, Howl and his fluttering retinue moved through the Rotunda. A million shards of colors played on his otherwise drab coat, shifting with every minute movement he made. The rustle of hooves through fresh snow somewhere outside interrupted the grey's musings. He almost let them pass without a reaction on his part, but a call followed the hooves, a deep roar which echoed against the granite and stone of the shrine. Kianzo. Howl's ears tilted backwards, casting an expression of uncertainty on his slender face. What was that? Although he had learned a great deal of the Common Tongue since he was a child—to the point where he bore no perceivable accent—there were many words he was not familiar with. Was Kianzo a name? Or perhaps a greeting of sorts? As far as he knew, the deep-voiced stranger was not aware of his presence, so he made the decision to peek through the drapes in order to determine his next course of action. Due to his lengthy horn, it was quite difficult to remain incognito, so he shoved his face through the curtains without any pretense of stealth. Before the Rotunda was a creature of considerable mass and strange coloring; a stallion that recalled a more primal nature—he was closer to the wild than any other horse Howl had ever seen. The stranger seemed quite agitated, a distraught expression playing on the long lines of his face. He lingered by the stairs, a massive hoof colliding with the structure with a force that seemed to Howl to almost make the entire building tremble. Although he had the good fortune to not have encountered any ill-willed souls during his time in Helovia, he always thought it prudent to be cautious around strangers, especially ones that could easily crush him beneath a single hoof. However, before he could attempt any sort of greeting, another voice rang through the dusky winter glade, this time more feminine in tone. Moments later, a pale mare came into view, not as tall as the stallion, but perhaps just as substantially built. She spoke of searching for someone, which elucidated the entire situation for Howl—Kianzo and Merialeth, and that explained why both of them seemed so fraught. His head still thrust between the two drapes, Howl cleared his throat politely, as to not startle the two. "Excuse me," he began, watching both giants with both curiosity and concern. "Can I be of any help?" omg sorry for the completely unnecessary length. ;__; the last two paragraphs are all you have to read. @Tembovu @December RE: Run, Run, Lost Boy - Tembovu - 12-04-2016 They say an elephant’s eyes speak the greatest language
His ears swung forward, catching another’s call. Though the snow dampened the call so that he could not quite make out the words, the King could make out the desperate tone with which it was shouted. His head rose from his disappointed, worried level at his withers, navy eyes probing the barren mostly trunks around him—there. From the trees appeared a grey mare, tall and solidly built with dark and thick limbs— but it was nor her frame that attracted his eyes. No. It was the hopeful pain that twisted her face and lined her dark eyes. A soft breath pushed out of his thick nostrils, clinging as a cloud around his pale muzzle as his cupped ears caught her words—an offer of help paired with a hopeful favor, a combination that only one who has lost something dear can fully understand. But, before he could respond another spoke—and the King realized his great bellows had likely drawn more attentions than the one he had been seeking. Though, a father searching for a son has (understandable) tunnel vision. His navy eyes left the painful hope of the mare’s face, finding a grey man standing in the Rotunda, wreathed in cloud-like moths and multicolored light. The Elephant’s tunnel vision from earlier must have prevented him from seeing the stallion—indeed the grey coat could be made to blend into the ice-coated ruins if one looked at it just right. Navy eyes glance between each antler and the horn sprouting from between his eyes. Three horns? Nothing of the sort had existed in Dorobo—though certainly it would have been praised as a godly fortune in his homeland. But the Elephant does not spend much time on thoughts of his distant home (though Helovia was more his home, now), instead focusing on the two horses around him. “I am searching for Kianzo, my son. He is marked similar to me, but gold, and not more than three seasons old. Have you seen him?” his deep voice rumbled, painted with worried concern, before he turned to the mare, “I would be happy to help each other search. Who is it you seek?” His head tilted, and though his eyes remained trained on those he spoke to, his ears were forever swiveling—listening for sounds in the forest around them. Then, as an afterthought, he added, “I am Tembovu, King of the Edge.” He hadn’t entirely meant to tack on his title at the end, it more slipped out as a matter of habit. What else could make you feel so much without a word? @Howl @December RE: Run, Run, Lost Boy - December - 12-04-2016
@Howl @Tembovu - sorry it's short, but I wanted to know if we'd actually be finding Kianzo or if we come up empty handed. I know December kinda just bolted to randomly look, but if Temb wants to give out suggestions or orders that's fine too. Waiting for orders whenever you're ready! |