[O] Clean and Whole - 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] Clean and Whole (/showthread.php?tid=25635) |
||
Clean and Whole - Esinakh - 11-03-2016 esinakh
It seemed that history would repeat itself for the two calves on the beach. Because, again, the small grey filly was being attacked on the beach—though this time it was the itchy, stinging plant leaves that pushed the troubled calf over her limit. And, as she was flailing and thrashing and sucuumbing to the tight vines of panic her mind wrapped around itself— And suddenly salvation is there, stomping the attacking leaf. Rak’s warm side, Rak’s soothing whisper, Rak’s foal-fuzz tail sweeping mud and sand off of her flanks. And again, just as before, she immediately pressed her face into his larger, stockier shoulder; tucking her eyes away from a world that was simply too much for the filly. Instead, she found safety in the dark blackness of brother calf’s hide, her trembling nostrils taking in his scent. “Sorry, Rak,” her half bleated, half croaked words were raw from terror and barely audible. And again, just as before, she blindly follows him to the sea to wash away the clay. Her mind is too full of panic to fully (yet) give thought to the idea of flying (—what if she fell into the sand?!—). Though she does slowly open her eyes they begin to wash in the rolling tide. Still, the sea has a salty scum, but at least it is cleaner than the sand and briefly soothes the burning itch on her legs. Her pale eyes dart towards the others as they come out of the sea, though her panic-numbed mind has an attention span only for brother calf. A quiver runs through her body from both the water’s chill and the idea of flying. But if she could fly, then she would be free of earth’s filth… “Teach me flying, Rak,” her whisper was quiet, hardly heard above the waves as trepidation began to mount once more (or, perhaps, never truly left). Her pale eyes grew white-rimmed, heart beginning to race at the thought of flapping her small, half-white wings. But her face was serious as she looked at Arakh. You will fight a battle more than once to win @Arakh and open to anyone else! Set directly after this SWP thread! RE: Clean and Whole - Arakh - 11-20-2016
@Esinakh sorry for the wait! :c RE: Clean and Whole - Esinakh - 11-29-2016 esinakh
Brother calf’s sweet words do wonders—far more than any others’—as they wash away her filth. Rak was her stability; he protected her, comforted her, gave her a sense of worth when all around her was crumbling in panic. Never did he turn her away or berate her for her compulsions; nor did he become exasperated as mother sometimes hid behind concern in her pale eyes. The calf may be strange, but she was not stupid; intuition, though sometimes approaching her differently than it would others, still illuminated things in her tangled mind. Even now, Rak did not deny her, answering her request with a nod of his largely horned head—and elated trepidation explodes in her chest, causing her slender, barred limbs to quake. But any excitement is quashed by brother’s next words: “Come to dunes.” Her grey-and-white rimmed ears tilt backwards, pale eyes wide and darting from the dunes, the deep sand that stretched to them, and Rak. Her breaths began to come faster, small nostrils flaring as the white snip between them quivered, “Rak—can—can—” her small voice stumbled over a few words as she remained in the waves, not following her brother. “Can teach here? Not on dunes?” Her eyes were large and pleading, grey and white wings tucked tightly to her body as a physical manifestation of her sudden, intense need to not cross back onto the beach. Her slender ribs moved quickly with her shallow breaths and rising panic, brow creased in fear and worry as she You will fight a battle more than once to win @Arakh RE: Clean and Whole - Arakh - 11-30-2016
@Esinakh RE: Clean and Whole - Esinakh - 12-04-2016 esinakh
The reassuring press of Rak’s solid grey muzzle calmed her quivers—Esi always loved Rak’s muzzle. It was an even, symmetrical, grey (unlike her own, white-marked maw); always so uniformly warm; the whiskers were all the same length. In short, it was safe perfection, so she eagerly accepted his muzzle against her shoulder, letting it settle the panic that roiled in her. “Thank, Rak,” was her whispered, grateful reply. And then, again, brother-calf granted her request. A shaky smile curved up her small, grey lips and crinkled the white and grey barring on her petite face. And, in her relief and her So, with her trembling abated, her pale pale eyes (still wide and white-rimmed, but calmer now) snapped from Rak’s muzzle to his wings and body, just as he bade her to do. Her focus was absolute, a model student for brother-calf—at least, in this moment. Her own wings unfurled, mimicking how he spread his, the white feathers of her right glimmering with cleanliness she so prized. A quick, nervous nod of her mottled horns was her response to his instructions that she needed to fly everyday to make her wings as strong as brother’s. Her gaze darted between his well-muscled appendages and her own, wimpy ones. “Esi want fly in clouds with Rak,” she murmured, hope darting through her bleached gaze. She wanted that more than anything in that moment. But then Rak was talking about running and he was gone, sprinting down the beach. The only thing that stopped her from taking immediately after him was the spray of wet sand behind him. She bleated once, nervously and anxiously, before hesitantly running after him—but then he launches into the sky and she bleats once again in surprise. “Esi try now, fly towards Rak. ” Her white and grey rimmed ears swivel in uncertainty, before she begins to really start running—though her body is slender from her cautious lifestyle, she still has the strong build of their parents. So, with wings spread and legs pumping (for the moment, she does not notice the wet granules of sand peppering her legs as she is so focused on flying to Rak) she leaps— —and glides!— —and sinks. But it is a controlled (barely), wobbly drop back towards the sand. She cries out in surprised excitement, “Rak see?! Esi fly—” her words are cut off by the hard landing on the wet sand. It sprays up to coat her front legs, and for a moment her eyes widen and she begins to tremble, head swiveling to find the safety of brother… But then the rolling waves and rising tide hits her limbs, and her eyes find the grey face she knows and loves. So, with a soft snort, she whinnies, “Try again!” You will fight a battle more than once to win @Arakh Do you want to continue this? It seems like a good place to end it? :D I really enjoyed this thread! |