the taming of the shrew, kri/any - 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: the taming of the shrew, kri/any (/showthread.php?tid=4895) |
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the taming of the shrew, kri/any - Jackal2 - 01-21-2013
RE: the taming of the shrew, kri/any - Sierra - 01-21-2013 The sabino pegasus circles above the Throat, large white appendages straight out, letting her glide around. Eyes of ocean blue gaze down at the sandy red desert, barely any movement. Until there's a stallion, a stranger, a trespasser. He's followed by a bronze dragon. With quick movements the mare angles her wings, swooping down in front of him, her invisible brows knit together. Who is this guy? Why is he here? A soldier does what a soldier does, and this soldier wasn't pleased with a mysterious stallion stepping into her herdland. She was supposed to protect her herd, and that's what she'd do. With a stern look painted on her face she booms out,"What business do you have here in the Throat?" A flat and yet serious tone is directed at the interesting stallion. Nostrils flare, catching the scent of grasses. Where's this guy from? The mare stares suspiciously at the stallion, and then to his dragon. What an interesting pair. I've never seen a dragon companion before. With a toss of her head the sabino steps closer, taking in every detail of the stallion. She goes from his striped hooves to his speckled body, and then to his silvery blue eyes. Swishing her white tail the mare waits for the stallion to state his business. A soldier was always strong, never showing a weak point. Never would a soldier let their herd down. Never. And this fem soldier was strong, and she wouldn't let this stranger out of her sight unless he was to leave the territory, or until Kri had arrived and taken care of him. With a somewhat softened look the mare glances at the dragon, wishing that she herself had one. As she stands there, the mare scratches at the red sand with her hoof, feeling the heat of the sun beat down onto her back. She keeps her wings neatly folded at her sides, still waiting for words to come from this strange equines' mouth. [[Sierra in soldier mode. >] ]] RE: the taming of the shrew, kri/any - Aurelius - 01-22-2013
RE: the taming of the shrew, kri/any - Valentine - 01-22-2013 Horse Background Horn
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Sumati's pale hooves lift red dust as she walks. She has nothing on her mind but the fact that Tallsun steadily approaches, she feels each day grow longer and each hour hotter. The sun has dried the ground into grains of flaky fibers that are carried by even the gentlest of breaths. Her lashes bat away lost pieces of earth as the slight wind pushes them along. She feels the desert ripples and ridges beneath her hooves but she is so accustomed to the seemingly terrible ways of the desert that she doesn't lose the slightest bit of balance. Patrolling the borders is the best thing to do on days like this when only crystalline clouds hang overhead. She knows it is unlikely that someone will be trespassing, especially with warriors like her own, but it is a secluded mental safety net of sorts that keeps her wandering back. Sumati approaches the northeastern-most part of the boundary when a sight catches her by the hazel of her gaze. She sees what she first believed to be a figment of the horizontal mirage, but as she paces ever closer she notices that more colors and shapes are developing in the blur. With a narrow of her sun-glinted eyes she rolls back on her tobiano haunches, spreading brown-tipped wings to take to the crisp skies. With one strong flap, she is airborne. Perhaps three minutes later, the Sinbird speeds in, landing on hot heels with a feisty snort and a wild flick of red-orange dust. The dust subsides, and she steps forward, past her cohorts eying them all gently, halting abruptly before the King of Thieves. She does not know him, but the way he cranes his neck over her boundary line does not make him distinguishably familiar. Her ears fall back naturally, more irritated than concerned. Her fierce, liquid eyes take a choke-hold on Jackal's odd silvery ones. She noticed upon landing the dun's scaly friend hovering above him like a stout beacon, glittering there as if the desert mirage doesn't cover him. She takes a moment to size him up before she speaks. "What brings you to my borders, boy?" Sumati notices a cold scratch in her throat and she swallows after speaking. Tension is dense in her muscles, she doesn't want another one of Tio's tricks to deal with. Kri is already tired enough of these war games - one more and she might explode. Hadn't they all had enough of hate already? Sumati feels it is her right to stand up now, and make these ruthless sinners run back home with their tails between their legs and their heads bruised blue. However, she would never be as good at it as the Resolute. |
A blue smudge claims the sky beside Dei, who hisses at it when it nears, rushing quickly to his bonded's back. The spot swiftly becomes a mare, an angry looking one at that. Jackal offers her a rather strained smile, finding himself quite irritable with this heat. When she lands, the dun can see how green she is, although she is hardly younger than himself; he regards her quietly, quicksilver eyes steady on her youthful face. What business do you have here in the Throat? Ears tilt backwards in annoyance - do they not teach their warriors to show civility toward visitors? She watches Dei almost fondly, but the bronze only gazes at her with contempt, perhaps mirroring the sentiments that his bonded could not convey. Another arrives before he can answer the pegasus - a small unicorn, with a glib tongue and clever words. An oasis of refinement in this big damn desert. "Well met, Aurelius of the Basin," he says, inclining his head towards the golden ram, a faint smile on his velvet lips. Aurelius is obviously stolen - he does not seem like the sort to dwell in such conditions, and vaguely, the dun wonders why. Is he an informant, a spy, a traitor? The small unicorn wields the finest sword of all - a silver tongue, infinitely more useful in the art of warfare than any blade. Aurelius strikes the appaloosa as one to battle naught with hooves or teeth, but with words and wit. A fine opponent indeed, a mind Jackal would be very keen to embrace. Before he can answer the unicorn, a stranger's droll words permeate the arid atmosphere like the smell of a week-old carcass, interrupting the flow of his own mind. A rather feminine looking stag comes into view, the pallor of his coat creating a stark contrast between the black of his mane and the very red heart on his haunch. Silver eyes observe him momentarily, narrowing irately when the allusion of such words sink into his spine. "Is this how you treat well-meaning guests?" he asserts quietly, restraining whatever irritation bleeds through the cracks of his perfect facade; Jackal's tone is controlled and gentle, although it assumes a chiding quality to it that cannot be easily shaken off. Sterling gaze, hard and indignant, fall onto the faces of these dry-weather citizens and their foolish, brash faces. Must he scold these adults like a mother hen to her chicks - chicks that were not even of her own nest? The flap of wings hearken the arrival of an addition to his farce of a meeting, another painted pegasus with a pinched look to a face that otherwise would have been pretty. The King of Thieves feels the urge to kick all of these heathens from his way (excluding the dwarf, of course) and find Kri himself, without these absurd antics. He grits his teeth instead; the heat must be seeping into his cracks, threatening to break his finely cast persona. The tobiano mare, who is clearly someone of high rank, speaks to him with the same tone as the others. Ears tilt backward further in annoyance, although his face does not betray anything but cordial composure. "Jackal, king of the Foothills," he infers dryly, feeling as wretched as this hot, barren piece of land that seems to mirror his state of mind: depraved and stale. Perhaps that is the reason for their lack of manners - perhaps whatever amicability they had has all been blown away, eroded, erased from the face of this earth by these greedy winds. Ignoring the condescension in the roan's words, he studies her with careful mercury eyes, deciding she is no better than her charge. She is obviously not the sandy Kri - this mare is too tall, too unprofessional. The Resolute would have a heaping ounce more of sense than these warriors, although he had once heard that the king is reflected in the face of his people. What about the queen? "I seek your sultana on matters of diplomacy," the dun discloses gently (although his eyes are hard as steel, and twice as ready to behead), hinting that this business was not for their ears, unable to mask the tiredness in his voice. He steals a glance at Aurelius, feeling very desperate for intelligent conversation; at least Rishima met him with more courtesy, with a menagerie infinitely more pleasant than this. Auburn tail whisks briskly against his athletic haunch, a feeble attempt to stave off the heat which slavers on his hide like the arms of an abominable lover. if you're still breathing, you're the lucky ones,
'Cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs
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we stayed bright as lightning. we sang loud as thunder. we moved ever forward.</style> Down, down, down. I fall like a rock from the sky as I see a mass of bodies building on my borders like deformed vultures crowding around a corpse. My wings whistle in the air and the wind drives me downward, increasing in speed, my eyes narrowing as my mane whips madly about, clouds thrashing clear of my face until I am free falling in the blue sky, back toward the red earth of my home, my face already contorted like hard rock. I am speeding aloft, before my distance becomes dangerously low and I pull out my wings to stop me, righting my body and gliding the few hundred paces that I was away from the crowd, my hooves touching down with a clap that rivaled thunder as I continue to surge forward. My body slows with a skid that kicks up a massive cloud of dirt. I was a fan of arriving with dramatic flair, drawing all immediate attention toward me so that my words would not fall upon those who were not attentive. I use the wind to quickly clear my cloud of red smoke, dark eyes dangerously falling on the faces of all in attendance, nostrils flaring as I take in the scent of those around. Aurelius I recognized as the short little midget who had been in this home before, and I eye him with narrowed slits but say nothing. Likely a racist ass if Valentine's story was true, but I had no way of knowing if the little goat was one himself. The larger issue was not the brute who I recognized from the Basin, but the little spotted brute of red who stood looking regally over my borders. He had a reek of the Foothills, and that already causes my ears to fall back on my poll in annoyance. "I see those of the Foothills have finally learned where my borders are," I say with biting intent, looking toward the stallion whose last words I had caught briefly. I seek your sultana on matters of diplomacy. I look at him with a smile that held no humor, but rather looked like a bearing of teeth as if I were canine. "You were already speaking to one sultana, but I suppose you came here for me." I look toward Sumati and give her a stern nod, looking at Valentine with questioning eyes before turning back toward this stallion. I suppose he was the new Leader of the Foothills. It was no surprise seeing as Evers and Paladin had not even managed to grasp the simple gesture of waiting to be received into a land before barging in. Basic manners. Looks like this one has it together. "Kri the Resolute," I say, my voice direct but neutral. "Who are you and what do you seek from me?" "" MY FRIENDS, I'M ONLY FLESH AND BONE, BUT I WON'T LET YOU DIE ALONE.</style> |