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for @Ashamin
Winter Song
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08-08-2016, 05:54 PM
for @Ashamin
ashamin lochan &rakt His companions were tired, but that day they would not rest. All three of the stags lifted their sleepy heads at the scent of winter and the call of the wind. Ashamin became suddenly and distinctly aware of the fact that he was no longer alone. Standing took effort. His body still ached from recent spars, and the odd chill that came from deeper in the sunlit woods froze his very bones. Ashamin was used to cold far more severe than any found in Helovia, but there was something different about the wind that pulled on him that day. He found his limbs dragged forth as if by some other entity’s design, and in a half-hoped moment he thought of the Gods and the mystical forces that played a part in this world. Lochan and Rakt followed him with senses heightened and curiosity piqued, but neither could say that their bonded was right or wrong until the moment they all stepped into the circle of snow. What gathered there was undeniably supernatural; it was a figure both beautiful and infinite, some strange shadow of something both cervid and equine that created itself with every fallen flake of snow. The Clovenheart blinked, glimmers of white catching on his long black lashes. When he breathed the cloud that formed before him was out of place but perfectly right all at the same time. Somehow, Ashamin hardly noticed the cold. The eyes of the creature were dark and cold—not unlike his own. He saw in their stark contrast against the snow memories of temporary statues built in the Basin. In those memories, he found the comfort of playful innocence. But he was no longer innocent, he knew this. Even his companions were grown now, and they did not frolic in this strange circle of cold as they might have in the past. No, they all regarded the scene with quiet reverence. Whatever this creature was, it was to be respected. "I heard a voice," Ashamin said, though the words felt strange as they moved across his lips. He was not certain he was really speaking, and perhaps he was not. Perhaps this was a dream, or merely a collection of thoughts. The aching of his body numbed, and when he breathed again he began to feel lightheaded. "Were you the one who called me?" The Clovenheart asked, despite knowing that surely this must be the case. He was naked, and this fact alone was rare. All trinkets were left behind, all armor and weaponry was put away. Before this spirit of winter, Ashamin was entirely bare. "Nevermind," he breathed, not caring any more about the voice that had called him. Perhaps it was this creature’s, and he was truly loved. If it belonged to anything else, Ashamin would not leave to find out what. After so long in a cold that felt strange and lonesome, he would not turn away from the sort that numbed his heart into oblivion. "You are beautiful," he said, his heart in a state that combined the agony of understanding one’s mortal lack of importance with the blessing of existing in a world alongside angels. The stallion believed in powers higher than himself that were still undiscovered, this much would always be true. He had not expected to see them before dying. ""
The Clovenheart
image creditsOH MY GOODNESS GRACIOUS THANK YOU @Mythical Request ;-;-;-;-;-;
08-31-2016, 07:50 PM
just tagging you cause it's been a while @Ashamin
09-06-2016, 07:10 AM
ashamin lochan &rakt The plurality of the being's existence did not escape the Clovenheart. From the moment the creation said "we," he knew that he was dealing with not one thing but many things, and as the air around him settled at a temperature so suited to his habits that it was almost impossible to sense, Ashamin suspected that before him stood the entire collection of Frostfall's being. The snow collected on and around him. The peace that had existed for so long outside of the stag, just beyond his reach, seemed to move itself into his breast. Even his companions were silent, choosing to keep their commentary to themselves. They were glad that he had come. His heart shivered; he wanted to reach out with his magic, to touch whatever heart this being may have had, but somehow that felt heinous. No, this was a beast of purity. To seek its lifesource, whether it had one or not, was no better than to pry secrets of innocence from the mouth of a child. "So am I," was all he said, though once more he didn't know if he'd said it or not. He did not have long, intricate speeches for the Frostfall before him. He only had awe. When they asked him if he missed the Basin it almost hurt him. If not for the numbing of the temporary radius of a world around him, Ashamin might have fallen. But it was strange how much the mere question was able to cause him pain, for it did. He swallowed the pill of his failure, the reminder that he had left behind a herd that loved him, and breathed deeply before answering. "Yes." His voice quivered when he spoke, and his tail snaked nervously. It left a small trail in the snow. "With all my being." And he wondered then, as he stood before magnificence that surely knew best, that chose to remind him of the past rather than the future he struggled so much to build, if he should ever have left at all. ""
The Clovenheart
image credits@Mythical Request
09-16-2016, 01:22 PM
@Ashamin Congratulations! Ashamin has received the following enchantments for his sarong: Item enchantment:: Silk Sarong :: When wrapped, pouch created by sarong is "bottomless" and can hold any size/amount of items. Item enchantment:: Silk Sarong :: When blanketed, the wearer is always kept warm. | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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