Carpe Deim

the Rift

[OPEN] Carpe Deim

Hector Posts: 262

Outcast atk: 7 | def: 9.5 | dam: 3.5

Stallion :: Hybrid :: 18.3hh :: 7 Years HP: 63 | Buff: ENDURE

Veci :: Plain Boggart :: Suffocate Dream

01-03-2014, 02:48 AM

No Time for Lies and Empty Fights

Veci wafted like a curling breath of the finest fog about Rasta’s lowered face; she gouged about the shadowy ore with fine, neat toes, and the Boggart played with waning interest through the haze of dust lifted. Mischievous by nature, he yearned for the ability to shift the earth around her; to lift those unearthed stones flung so carelessly aside, and torment her with them- if only by refilling the hole she cleared. He could not achieve anything so dramatic however, and settled sombrely to instead guide the plumes of powdery sand and soil with his wispy, translucent form, towards her unsuspecting nostrils.

Swift and silent came the warning from the chestnut stallion. Hector could not readily see the location or ill-conduct of his naughty counterpart, but the eerie silence and unusual stillness building through their bond roused his suspicion. Veci had been told before to leave their brethren at peace, and such harassment of their ‘sister’ here would not for a moment be tolerated.

The spectre soon grew tired of the mundane task Hector had committed them to; it was dull for one who could not touch the world directly, and he left them resentfully to find something more entertaining to occupy the himself doing.

Rasta was quiet- the observant soldier noticed almost immediately that she did not speak to him like the last occasion when their paths had been crossed. Quietly he watched her welcome him forward by gesture alone, a broad smile wrapping around the tapering end of her quite exquisite face. When finally the thin pastel lips peeled apart, naught but air escaped. That was when he realised she could see; those eyes which had been so haunting and vague now embraced his own with warmth that he had not expected. Half smiling; mostly confused, Hector both announced and asked, "You can see today; but you cannot speak instead?" His voice lacked the compassion of one grown into social grace, but concern did pool behind the orange glow of his eyes.

He meandered towards her as she turned away moments later, to find that which had her attention ensnared.

Beneath her narrow hoof lay a semi-submerged sliver (he thought; or similar) of metal and it was plainly obvious that she had been trying to remove it from the sand-clay bed within which it lay. With some ease he struck it loose, his burly knee thrusting the sharp angle of his hoof against its lip, and lowering his face with uttermost care he used the larger and highest set of his curved ivory horns to lift it away altogether. Achievement flooded through his core and he turned while trying to mask the victory scattering through an otherwise insipid expression- he had been so scorned as a child that for even the smallest of feats he sought subtly merit from those around him. Such was the insecurity buried beneath his now gallant guise.

Rasta had moved away already to continue her foraging though, and so the pattern began- she found the ores and cleared the earth around each, and Hector the gentle giant, followed behind to remove them altogether and push them together into an expanding heap. There seemed little point in talking as they worked- the stallion was hardly fond of words to begin with let alone sitting at the head of a conversation with one who could not reply; so he worked in silence.