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+--- Thread: [O] where our story begins [welcoming!] (/showthread.php?tid=26418)
where our story begins [welcoming!] - Tiamat - 02-05-2017
no dreams within her heart,
but dreams of love
but dreams of love
The journey from the Threshold to the Aurora Basin takes a little bit longer than usual. Tiamat is aware of the long journey that Qeren had taken before she even came upon Helovia, and so she sets an easy pace for them, not wanting to put the taller mare in any unnecessary discomfort. All the same, she cannot discredit her eagerness to return to her mountain home. So when the familiar peaks come into view, she lifts her head, and gestures with enthusiasm. “It’s just up there,” she gives her company an encouraging smile, reassuring both of them that it’s only a few miles that separate them from the end of their travels.
Picking her way carefully over the rocks, she guides Qeren through the familiar trails. The final distance passes by quickly for the ocean mare, and before she knows it, her beloved valley is opening up below them. “Here it is! This is home,” she stops for a short moment to bask in the beauty of the view, and takes a deep breath of the fresh highland air. Grinning silently to Qeren, she then descends in her—their—home, her cloven toes brushing softly through the spring grass.
“And before I forget—” suddenly the Mender halts again, arching her neck in order to sift through the herbs and seaweed braided into her hair; grasping a sprig of rose-hips in her lips, she pulls it free and offers the red oblong-shaped berries to Qeren, “—here, take these; they will help ease your aching feet.” She smiles around the sprig, knowing the pain of a worn foot. The ruby herb should help strengthen and restore her hooves to their original health. “I’m a healer, by the way. If I haven’t said that before,” Tiamat adds quickly, laughing lightly between them. That way Qeren will know that Tiamat knows what she’s talking about, and wants to help.
notes; Everyone come welcome @Qeren !!<3
“Speech.”
Picking her way carefully over the rocks, she guides Qeren through the familiar trails. The final distance passes by quickly for the ocean mare, and before she knows it, her beloved valley is opening up below them. “Here it is! This is home,” she stops for a short moment to bask in the beauty of the view, and takes a deep breath of the fresh highland air. Grinning silently to Qeren, she then descends in her—their—home, her cloven toes brushing softly through the spring grass.
“And before I forget—” suddenly the Mender halts again, arching her neck in order to sift through the herbs and seaweed braided into her hair; grasping a sprig of rose-hips in her lips, she pulls it free and offers the red oblong-shaped berries to Qeren, “—here, take these; they will help ease your aching feet.” She smiles around the sprig, knowing the pain of a worn foot. The ruby herb should help strengthen and restore her hooves to their original health. “I’m a healer, by the way. If I haven’t said that before,” Tiamat adds quickly, laughing lightly between them. That way Qeren will know that Tiamat knows what she’s talking about, and wants to help.
notes; Everyone come welcome @Qeren !!<3
“Speech.”
RE: where our story begins [welcoming!] - Qeren - 02-08-2017
@Tiamat
RE: where our story begins [welcoming!] - Tiamat - 02-11-2017
no dreams within her heart,
but dreams of love
but dreams of love
The whispered words of, it’s beautiful, bring a warm smile to the ocean mare’s expression. She couldn’t agree more with this simple, breathless statement. The corners of her eyes crinkle with the strength of her grin, and she follows Qeren’s gaze, looking out over the mountain valley that opens wide before them. “It is, isn’t it?” She answers rhetorically, her slender shoulders heaving in a long sigh that slips blissfully through her sapphire lips. It doesn’t matter how many times she comes and goes from these northern peaks—each time she returns, Tiamat never fails to be caught again in the terrain’s beauty.
The mare closes her eyes in a long blink, enjoying the familiarity of her home around her. A single ear slants downward when she feels her companion’s touch against her side, and the two lean into each other, both drinking in the comfort of the land that they will always know and cherish.
When Qeren accepts the sprig of rose-hips, Tiamat’s smile deepens, happy that the taller mare is apparently comfortable enough to accept her aid. “If you need anything else, please let me know,” the sea maiden assures her new herd mate with sincere earnestness, ever the healer and ever the mender of the world’s calamities. Satisfied that Qeren is well enough for now, she sinks pleasantly into the peace of the Basin. She doesn’t pressure for their conversation to continue, although she is pleased when Qeren voices a question without further encouragement, wondering about the blue mare’s time in the mountains.
Tiamat pauses shortly to ponder the time. “I first came to Helovia several years ago—almost five, I think,” she shakes her head, disbelief shadowing her smile. Has is really been that long? It seems impossible, but the months have slipped steadily away, leaving the Mender with a treasure trove of memories. “I had to leave briefly due to personal reasons, but I was eager to return as soon as I was able. In all the time that I’ve spent in Helovia, I’ve always lived in the Basin. I love this valley—it’s my home,” a breath of laughter breezes through her words, and her white eyes are cast around them with fondness.
She couldn’t imagine having to live anywhere else. Even as much as the ocean calls to every fiber of her being, and she adores her father so, the ocean is not home. Her lion tail brushes through the tall grasses, as if to stroke the earth beneath her feet. Quietly returning her attention to Qeren, Tiamat inquires of her: “Would you like to see the hot springs? They’re on the other side, just around the lake.” With a motion of her chin she gestures across the water’s glittering surface, where cascades fall gently from the rocky summits.
“Speech.”
The mare closes her eyes in a long blink, enjoying the familiarity of her home around her. A single ear slants downward when she feels her companion’s touch against her side, and the two lean into each other, both drinking in the comfort of the land that they will always know and cherish.
When Qeren accepts the sprig of rose-hips, Tiamat’s smile deepens, happy that the taller mare is apparently comfortable enough to accept her aid. “If you need anything else, please let me know,” the sea maiden assures her new herd mate with sincere earnestness, ever the healer and ever the mender of the world’s calamities. Satisfied that Qeren is well enough for now, she sinks pleasantly into the peace of the Basin. She doesn’t pressure for their conversation to continue, although she is pleased when Qeren voices a question without further encouragement, wondering about the blue mare’s time in the mountains.
Tiamat pauses shortly to ponder the time. “I first came to Helovia several years ago—almost five, I think,” she shakes her head, disbelief shadowing her smile. Has is really been that long? It seems impossible, but the months have slipped steadily away, leaving the Mender with a treasure trove of memories. “I had to leave briefly due to personal reasons, but I was eager to return as soon as I was able. In all the time that I’ve spent in Helovia, I’ve always lived in the Basin. I love this valley—it’s my home,” a breath of laughter breezes through her words, and her white eyes are cast around them with fondness.
She couldn’t imagine having to live anywhere else. Even as much as the ocean calls to every fiber of her being, and she adores her father so, the ocean is not home. Her lion tail brushes through the tall grasses, as if to stroke the earth beneath her feet. Quietly returning her attention to Qeren, Tiamat inquires of her: “Would you like to see the hot springs? They’re on the other side, just around the lake.” With a motion of her chin she gestures across the water’s glittering surface, where cascades fall gently from the rocky summits.
“Speech.”
@Qeren
RE: where our story begins [welcoming!] - Qeren - 02-12-2017
@Tiamat
RE: where our story begins [welcoming!] - Tiamat - 02-15-2017
no dreams within her heart,
but dreams of love
but dreams of love
“I do,” the ocean mare croons in response to Qeren’s initial observation. Every word she had spoken before is true—beyond a doubt, these mountains are her home. If the brown mare can find what she has found here for herself, then it will be a joyous day indeed. Especially when her company continues, briefly explaining the nature of the previous place she had lived...where blood had been demanded. Tiamat finds a shiver crawling down her spine at the mere thought. “That’s horrible! I’m so sorry,” she reaches out to Qeren, seeking to touch her muzzle in an attempt at comfort.
Tiamat can’t even imagine having to live in such a ghastly environment. Why? What awful things had happened to bring a people down to such horrifying measures? Her heart goes out to the taller mare, suddenly very grateful that Qeren had been able to escape that frightful place. “I’d be happy to cheer you up whenever you need,” Tiamat smiles warmly, wanting her newest herd mate to know that she is no longer alone. She no longer needs to go without kindness.
Brushing the length of her lion tail over the blades of spring grass, the blue mare turns, ushering for Qeren to follow before she redirects their conversation to more pleasant topics. “They are very relaxing!” She comments about the hot springs, her head bobbing in time with her gait. “The water never gets too hot, and it’s never not hot enough. It’s a glorious relief—especially for aching muscles, or on frosty winter nights,” she gives the other unicorn a coy wink, knowing well the frigid bite of Frostfall’s icy weather.
Around the Aurora Basin lake they walk, where Nimue drifts from her bonded’s side to play in the clear waters, leaping in and out as she follows them. Finally the steamy springs come into view. Tiamat perks up, her head rising and ears slanting forward, before she gestures with enthusiasm. “Here we are!” She steps eagerly into the artesian well, picking her way carefully over the damp rocks until she reaches the bottom. A sigh of contentment slowly leaves her. “It feels nice, doesn’t it?” The sea maiden questions Qeren, looking over to her with a small smile as she relaxes, breathing in the warmth of the steam.
Once she has a moment to get comfortable, Tiamat can’t help but question: “Is there a path from your previous life that you’d like to pursue? Like healing, or fighting, or crafting?” Her head tilts slightly to the side, causing her long hair to fan out across the misty surface. “There’s no pressure for you to decide, but you have that option. There are different ranks here that you can choose from: the seers, the crafters, the sneaks, the warriors, the healers, and of course, there are the leaders,” she waits patiently for a response, content to unwind among the hot springs all evening.
“Speech.”
Tiamat can’t even imagine having to live in such a ghastly environment. Why? What awful things had happened to bring a people down to such horrifying measures? Her heart goes out to the taller mare, suddenly very grateful that Qeren had been able to escape that frightful place. “I’d be happy to cheer you up whenever you need,” Tiamat smiles warmly, wanting her newest herd mate to know that she is no longer alone. She no longer needs to go without kindness.
Brushing the length of her lion tail over the blades of spring grass, the blue mare turns, ushering for Qeren to follow before she redirects their conversation to more pleasant topics. “They are very relaxing!” She comments about the hot springs, her head bobbing in time with her gait. “The water never gets too hot, and it’s never not hot enough. It’s a glorious relief—especially for aching muscles, or on frosty winter nights,” she gives the other unicorn a coy wink, knowing well the frigid bite of Frostfall’s icy weather.
Around the Aurora Basin lake they walk, where Nimue drifts from her bonded’s side to play in the clear waters, leaping in and out as she follows them. Finally the steamy springs come into view. Tiamat perks up, her head rising and ears slanting forward, before she gestures with enthusiasm. “Here we are!” She steps eagerly into the artesian well, picking her way carefully over the damp rocks until she reaches the bottom. A sigh of contentment slowly leaves her. “It feels nice, doesn’t it?” The sea maiden questions Qeren, looking over to her with a small smile as she relaxes, breathing in the warmth of the steam.
Once she has a moment to get comfortable, Tiamat can’t help but question: “Is there a path from your previous life that you’d like to pursue? Like healing, or fighting, or crafting?” Her head tilts slightly to the side, causing her long hair to fan out across the misty surface. “There’s no pressure for you to decide, but you have that option. There are different ranks here that you can choose from: the seers, the crafters, the sneaks, the warriors, the healers, and of course, there are the leaders,” she waits patiently for a response, content to unwind among the hot springs all evening.
“Speech.”
@Qeren
RE: where our story begins [welcoming!] - Qeren - 02-25-2017
RE: where our story begins [welcoming!] - Tiamat - 02-27-2017
no dreams within her heart,
but dreams of love
but dreams of love
As the larger mare settles into the balmy waters, Tiamat smiles at her reaction, the brown woman noticeably pleased to have a chance to rest her travel-weary muscles. Enjoying the comfort herself, Tiamat can’t imagine how the other must be feeling (having wandered much, much farther, and much longer, than the Mender has in the last few days). Qeren gradually saunters further into the hot spring’s depths, while the sea maiden slips back towards its damp banks. Stepping back into knee-high waters, she lowers herself to the spring’s floor, sighing audibly and closing her eyes blissfully before she returns her attention to her new herd mate.
Qeren speaks of how her mother had crafted, and how she had worked with her at times. This little picture, at least, seems to be some sort of redeeming light in the bay mare’s otherwise bloody history (as far as the sea maiden is aware). A soft and pleasant smile curves her sapphire lips. “You’re welcome to craft here as well, if you would like,” her grin deepens cheerfully, white eyes shining, encouraging Qeren to follow whatever path her heart longs for.
“There are different tiers within each rank, so you would first start at the beginning, as an Apprentice, and move up as you learn. Our Weavers would teach you—they are gifted with magic from the Time God to create the most beautiful textiles,” her gaze flutters briefly to the clear skies above, to where her own mother watches over her, and wonders if that is where their patron deity watches over them as well. The Time God gives them so much—their home, wisdom and guidance, the power of healing, and the ability to create something beautiful from nothing…
With that train of thought, Tiamat returns her eyes to Qeren, her expression softening as memories flit through her thoughts. “I’ve seen them construct things from warm scarves to thick blankets, sturdy tents, and even strong armor,” instinctively the adorable face of the Basin’s resident candyman comes to her mind. Johnny had been a Weaver for a long time before he fell ill—idly she wonders if he will continue his trade as he heals. He would be a delightful mentor for anyone. “I’m sure you would do well,” the blue mare assures Qeren with laughter lacing her voice.
An unexpected nudge against her shoulder has the ocean mare turning her head, her smile growing affectionate at the sight of her companion. Having had her fun in the glassy waters of the lake, Nimue now settles at the edge of the hot springs, resting her smooth body among the long grasses and leaning against her bondmate. Tenderly brushing her muzzle across the whale’s forehead, Tiamat sweeps her eyes again to Qeren. “What did your mother used to craft with?” She inquires softly, delicately. While her curiosity is genuine, Tiamat does not want to prod any raw memories that the taller woman might hold.
“Speech.”
Qeren speaks of how her mother had crafted, and how she had worked with her at times. This little picture, at least, seems to be some sort of redeeming light in the bay mare’s otherwise bloody history (as far as the sea maiden is aware). A soft and pleasant smile curves her sapphire lips. “You’re welcome to craft here as well, if you would like,” her grin deepens cheerfully, white eyes shining, encouraging Qeren to follow whatever path her heart longs for.
“There are different tiers within each rank, so you would first start at the beginning, as an Apprentice, and move up as you learn. Our Weavers would teach you—they are gifted with magic from the Time God to create the most beautiful textiles,” her gaze flutters briefly to the clear skies above, to where her own mother watches over her, and wonders if that is where their patron deity watches over them as well. The Time God gives them so much—their home, wisdom and guidance, the power of healing, and the ability to create something beautiful from nothing…
With that train of thought, Tiamat returns her eyes to Qeren, her expression softening as memories flit through her thoughts. “I’ve seen them construct things from warm scarves to thick blankets, sturdy tents, and even strong armor,” instinctively the adorable face of the Basin’s resident candyman comes to her mind. Johnny had been a Weaver for a long time before he fell ill—idly she wonders if he will continue his trade as he heals. He would be a delightful mentor for anyone. “I’m sure you would do well,” the blue mare assures Qeren with laughter lacing her voice.
An unexpected nudge against her shoulder has the ocean mare turning her head, her smile growing affectionate at the sight of her companion. Having had her fun in the glassy waters of the lake, Nimue now settles at the edge of the hot springs, resting her smooth body among the long grasses and leaning against her bondmate. Tenderly brushing her muzzle across the whale’s forehead, Tiamat sweeps her eyes again to Qeren. “What did your mother used to craft with?” She inquires softly, delicately. While her curiosity is genuine, Tiamat does not want to prod any raw memories that the taller woman might hold.
“Speech.”
@Qeren