C A T H U N In the sweltering heat of a late summer afternoon no reprieve can be found in cool breezes or soothing droplets of rain. The sun has burned away every trace of cloud until even the last remaining moisture in the air threaten to evaporate. A singular breath is like inhaling red-hot embers. More, rapid, tired breaths is like setting the lungs on fire and adding a bottle of fine liquor - just waiting for the explosion. The air beneath a canopy of faded greenery is as stagnant and unmoving as the water of the shallow pond. An infestation of algae slowly choke the life out of a few remaining carps, make the waves sluggish and thick and cover his long legs in a sheet of mottled vegetation as he hurriedly wade across. Maybe it will bother him later once the slimy cells dry into an itching crust from hoof to knee. Maybe he will regret not lowering inky lips to sip the murky liquid as they later begin crack and bleed from thirst. But right now his mind is occupied by a white shadow that flit from tree to tree somewhere above his head. Pale wings rise and fall with increasing certainty, the milky membrane oddly silent against the cacophony of chirping cicadas, trilling birds and the soft ring of the bells in his hair. His own breath add to the noise, strained and graceless as he struggle to keep up. The legs are burning too, searing with internal heat that has nothing to do with the embers that continue to fall from charcoal curtains with each step. Heaving himself up the bank of cracked mud on the other side requires more effort than he wants to spend. Picking up the pace once securely on dry land - well, that's just impossible. The trees grow too densely for more than a hasty trot, zigzag until walking a straight line becomes a ridiculous dream too far removed from reality. He dislikes not being able to run freely, resents the entirety of the forest for blocking his view. Yet the youth grit his teeth and push on, stalking the dragon onwards, further and deeper into the wild woodlands, until suddenly a feeling like being doused in bone-chilling waters break over his skin. No, not only the skin but deeper, it is a shudder that rattle his very soul. Cathun gasp for breath and dig his feet deep into pine needles and moss, forcing a sudden stop that leave a trail of bare scraped earth and winking sparks in his wake. Above him the dragon let off a clear, ringing tone that reverberated throughout the forest, a sound that make the equine shudder yet again - but for different reasons, deeper reasons. It seem to him to be such triumphant relief in her voice, yet an echoing sorrow too, as if a bittersweet memory has been evoked. The dragon dipped a wing and cut a wide circle through the air as she turn, the draft of her passing a welcome kiss of cooling sweat against his neck. Bark rattle to the ground as sharp claws make contact with a branch, and as he catch his breath Cathun watch warily as the lizard find her balance, turning her pale eyes upon him with determination. "What, is this it?" The colt glances around himself, eying row upon row of trees with mounting apprehension. "You cannot be serious, there's nothing here!" The White one snort sharply and flex her wings, feet impatiently shifting their grip on the branch. She turn her head in the direction they were heading, then look back at him, before rolling her eyes when his face remain scrunched up in a discontent grimace. Teeth glimmer pearly white as she part her maw and let out another soul-shattering cry; and then, before Cathun can do anything she spread her wings again and take off. Back, in the opposite direction. "Wait! Hey, where are you going!? Fajira!" But the dragon just keep going without so much as glancing back. Cathun stare after her in disbelief until the last glimmer of alabaster scales disappear, then start cursing as he glance about once more. Low, searing words, of a decidedly foul nature by the sound of it though the language was foreign, the accent most unusual. "Great. Wonderful! Left in the middle of nowhere. Fucking dragons, fucking insufficient directions, overall fuck everything!" Still, that sensation just then had... been strange. The equine glanced back along the minimal path with ears thoughtfully pricked. Slowly, hesitantly he brought himself around, long legs stepping carefully as he retreated back, step by step until... there it was again. A cool, foreign sensation, really not at all unlike water but not quite that either. There was a flavor of air, like a rush of wind and zapping lightning and... but no, he was unable to explain it in words. Whatever it was the anomaly appeared local, limited to a more or less straight line running straight across the path he had been traveling. The young horse experimented with it for a while, walked back and forth between this invisible line, but ended up none the wiser as to the purpose of this peculiar phenomenon. It was strange, it teased his curiosity something dreadful, but the day was passing and he already hated the forest to death. It wasn't until he reluctantly turned to leave that something caught his attention and made the pale hairs along his back stand on edge. On the outside of the line a spark from his tail had landed on a patch of dried grass, it's searing heat enough to ignite the yellowed strands. Small flames licked the fuel with growing hunger, smoke coiled up in the still air and he could feel the familiar warmth as he hurried over to stomp the embers out before it grew out of hand. But on the inside of the line... even though sparks cracked and jumped from his mane and tail like always, not a single fire had started. He could see the embers gleam and glow on the ground, felt the heat of them too as he passed, but every single one, without fail, winked out without setting anything ablaze. "Oh. So that's what he meant..." A slow, icy finger of quiet dread dragged along the spine, drying his throat more effectively than the summer sun had been able to do all day. As soon as the budding forest fire had been put out Cathun turned on his heels and hurried away, cursing the dragon with increasing fervor for leaving him in such a creepy, messed up place. @[Amaris], @[Reynier], open to everyone! :D |
My Modus Operandi is Amalgam
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03-28-2015, 11:47 PM
03-31-2015, 02:46 AM
"What who meant?"
The question floated upon the still air, curling around trees and leaves, exiting the maw of one peculiar creature that wasn't quite entirely equine. The girl hadn't meant to eavesdrop, nor hide, she had simply been walking - it was something she had taken to recently, walking, travelling the lands, learning what she could. She often found that she learned the most when she did not go looking for knowledge - it was the sort of thing you could not force, but had to allow. The girl had sighed with resignation many a time on her travels, not knowing how she would ever fulfil the requirements of her position in her herd, not knowing how to be devious enough, crafty enough, or simply smart enough to ever be worthy of the title. But, they thought her worthy - her cousin had thought her worthy - and so, she would continue to try. Golden pools peeked out from behind caramel tinted lashes, blinking innocently as the hybrid continued on her trip forward. The steed before her was young and burly, with the promise to grow taller and greater as the passage of time tended to the growth of his body. Nostrils flared as the girl considered the burnt atmosphere - without even thinking it, she summoned a dark smudge of a dragon, a black spirit, who glowed eerily darkly in the TallSun light. It trilled and warbled a greeting to her - she flicked an ear in its direction, but did not take her attention from the steed before her - before dancing along the edge of Helovia's domain, being so bold as to dart between the stallion's sooty limbs and play in his shadow. Meanwhile, Amaris peered at him, quiet after her few words were spoken, considering the steed. He was familiar to her, somehow, though she knew she had never met him before. With a mental shrug, however, she softened her gaze and dipped her nose to him in greeting as her own locomotion came to a cease. "Forgive me, I didn't mean to pry," she added in her soft, seraphic voice, realising just now intrusive her query could be construed - she should know, for she did not overly enjoy other prying into her private thoughts and mutterings. Fire blazed in the steed's eyes and embers shedded from the charred tips of his hair - he was fire personified, and Amaris was genuinely intrigued. "I am Amaris," she began again, eyeing the darkly glowing dragon spirit who chose that moment to dart about her tiara with a draconic laugh, "welcome to Helovia." Daniel Schiersner @ flickr & larfsalot @ deviantart No need to mirror my post length - I have a horrible case of the rambly writer syndrome!
I like being tagged!
You are always welcome to 'try' and use force/magic on Amaris, but similar to spar posts, leave it to me to decide how the damage is taken please~
03-31-2015, 09:07 AM
04-01-2015, 06:30 AM
Surprise, pure astonishment really, widened the girl's eyes and stiffened her posture. So stunned was she, that the colt had already bumped his muzzle against hers and danced his little dance before she even completely registered his words. Lace? Father? And he had sent this steed, as yet unnamed, forth to search for her? Amaris had not known that Lace had left Helovia (again?), had only ever thought of him as a faraway father figure herself - perhaps he was father to her equine side, while Vikrum was father to her draconic side? - but she supposed she shouldn't be so surprised. The girl remembered meeting the steed for the first time, catching him in an embrace with her mother, watching, observing him as he stared adoringly at her. She remembered the first thing she ever asked him, the first question to ever pass her lips - do you love my mother? - and she remembered his reply - yes..
It was all a bit much for the girl, and she found her quizzical thoughts unwittingly cascading over onto the dragon she had brought back from the spirit world. He was a rogue, a wild drake in his former life, and so manners were not his forte, as he danced amongst the shadows of the equine's bodies. Amaris was used to such antics, naturally, but she had to learn to be more aware that others were not always so at ease. It chirruped and trilled in confusion at the sudden flood of information and feelings it felt from her, and as the stallion before her "Please, be at peace, sir. He was only young when he passed away," the girl tried to explain, "and a wild drake in his old life. I have the ability to call them back from their afterlives, to learn from them." A wry ear flicked backwards to the black, who chirped innocently from his perch. "Though their lessons aren't always clear." She was used to explaining herself and her magic, and she was slowly growing less disheartened about the fact that she simply was unusual, that others would never accept her straight away for who she was, but always judge her for the scales upon her hide (or, in this case, the rambunctious friends that she kept). "I'm sure he's sorry," she added, somewhere in there, she thought silently. A flood of questions danced upon the tip of her tongue, and oh, how she wanted to ask all of them. Most notably, who's your mother? but that would hardly be appropriate - the girl settled for what she hoped was the most practical question of all, one to show that she did care for Lace, and through Lace, this steed who claimed to be his son. "Why did Lace send you to Helovia?" Daniel Schiersner @ flickr & larfsalot @ deviantart No need to mirror my post length - I have a horrible case of the rambly writer syndrome!
I like being tagged!
You are always welcome to 'try' and use force/magic on Amaris, but similar to spar posts, leave it to me to decide how the damage is taken please~
04-01-2015, 07:47 AM
04-02-2015, 03:32 AM
"Of course he's real," the girl said, amusement glittering behind her eyes. The dragon huffed from her back, a small lick of flame puffing from his nostrils; he was taking far more offence to the comment than Amaris. Tulunka she murmured to him, only with her mind this time, reigning in the energy the little black longed to spout out. His mind was foreign and unusual, but the dragonmare could not give him the attention she wanted to just yet - Cathun was taking up the majority of her attention now. "Being deceased of body doesn't mean one's soul is gone forever. It is simply displaced, elsewhere. Having no body to hold your soul doesn't make one any less real." Of all the things she could have spoken of then - like the fact that they were apparently practically family - she was speaking of her magic, of the souls she brought from that otherness, her ability to breathe life, albeit temporarily, back into the souls of those who once frolicked through the realms of Helovia. Truly, Amaris felt something she couldn't fully define about the entire situation, a soft of confusion that mingled with a vague sense of betrayal.
The girl wanted to believe him, to be able to embrace him like the brother he reckoned himself to be, but she felt like there was a fracture between them, a gap filled with information that she hadn't been exposed to yet, a page missing from the encyclopaedia that described the lives of herself and all those involved in her life. It wasn't that she doubted the truth to his words, it was that she wanted to deny them, for some undefined, selfish reason. This sort of thing had the potential to change her world, and she was apprehensive about it, as anyone is about change. But her life had changed so much recently already - what was a long-lost sort-of relative-friend entering her life going to do? He mentions magic, and dragons, how they were somewhat foreign concepts to him. The dragongirl raised a 'brow at this, for the colt very obviously existed through magic - the more time she spent in his presence, the more she recognised the feel of it, the almost burnt aftertaste that lingered in her throat upon digesting his scent, the way his mane and tail continually produced glowing embers, the way his eyes glowed with pure liquid magma… He was mystical, special in his own way, and as he stepped closer to her she did not rebuff the closure of distance nor retreat any. As the seconds trickled past, and his explanation came, she found herself letting go of the apprehension she felt, the doubt she longed to cling to (for it was nothing but an empty comfort to her), and suddenly felt her heart go out to him. Here she was, judging him just as many had judged her; here he was, afraid of the judgement he had clearly experienced in the past. How could she stand and be one of those prejudice bigots who had probably passed up many an opportunity based purely on what was on the surface? No, quite immediately the girl felt herself resolve to indeed embrace the colt as a brother, a comrade, a friend, to help him as his father had bid her, albeit in a roundabout way. She smiled, a soft, genuine curling of her lips that shined behind her honey-gold eyes. Stepping closer to him, she extended her muzzle, more prepared for the contact now, recognising again the magic that thrummed through him as she felt his warmth. It reminded her of her time with the dragons of her father's realm, the creatures who had fire in their bellies and so rarely ever got cold (and if they did, they were surely ill). It reminded her of her father, with that same fire in his belly, embracing her in his strong grip. Just a simple touch, muzzle to muzzle, and the girl felt all the more at ease for the entire circumstance. Of course, then the query arose about whether she could actually help him. "There are crafters throughout Helovia, many of them generous, though they might still ask for compensation. Perhaps we should return to my home, the Dragon's Throat, and discuss it with Cera, our Forger. Or perhaps.." the girl was about to launch into an explanation of the Sun God, and how would surely be able to mend the broken talisman, but she didn't wish to overwhelm him with information (though he didn't seem to hesitate doing it to her). "Just how much did Lace tell you about Helovia?" she asked with a curious grin tugging on her lips. [ ooc :: pretty much if he says "yep let's go" I can change his rank for you and we can get going, and continue on in the Throat ^_^ ] Daniel Schiersner @ flickr & larfsalot @ deviantart No need to mirror my post length - I have a horrible case of the rambly writer syndrome!
I like being tagged!
You are always welcome to 'try' and use force/magic on Amaris, but similar to spar posts, leave it to me to decide how the damage is taken please~
04-02-2015, 07:59 AM
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