the Rift


Fingernails that Shine like Justice [Destrier]

Romani Posts: 205
Outcast atk: 4 | def: 8 | dam: 7
Mare :: Equine :: 14.2 :: 9 HP: 66 | Buff: NOVICE
Kasai :: White Tiger :: Wind Whip Sparrow
#1


Romani

He was there in her mind's eye, tall, dark, and handsome. Power and grace personified. A fellow to be respected and admired from afar, but not up close. Never up close. Despite her history and Royal upbringing, Romani was far too humble and self-conscious to actively seek out the Sergeant for a social call, even though she knew she would be greeted with nothing but gentle kindness. It was enough to know that he was out there, performing his duty, and that they would one day cross paths... But her duty as a Soldier had her seeking out the said Friesian that she hadn't seen in many moons.

"Destrier!"

Did he even consider her a friend? A comrade? A sister-in-arms? Or was she simply another of the herd he had sworn to protect? It had been he who had stolen her away from the Aurora Basin a few winter's past, whisking her away from the brutal chill and unsavory cruelty of the northern lands and returning her to the warm safety of the World's Edge. That act alone, braving the frozen tundra of hatred to pluck her from the arms of heartless demons, had stuck with the Haflinger mare for years since it had happened... And since then, Destrier had unknowingly wormed himself into a tender, dear spot in her breast, where Hell nor high water would remove him.

Their meetings had been few and far between, brisk, professional, and normally directed to herd meetings, but now... Now, the Captains of the Edge had spoken, and with their words Haflinger and Friesian would have to cross hooves in mock-combat. Not for blood, or for honor, but to simply sharpen their skills and rekindle kinship.

Her call of the stallion's name echoed along the cool afternoon breeze and through the budding, blossoming trees, following the path of the dissipating morning mists, the sun shining warmly upon the golden-red gypsy's impressive bulk. A breeze, light and welcome, toyed with strands of the Protector's alabaster locks. Romani stood waiting in a northernmost clearing void of trees or cumbersome shrubbery near the jagged, cliff sides of which the World's Edge was named, sharp, azure oculars locked on the treeline for the form of the ebony baroque stallion and his little green dragon. There would plenty of room for their spar, should Destrier answer, with little obtrusion to be had save the clumps of growing sweet spring grass and the dip of a bubbling brook near the eastern treeline. The ground before her was dusty and crudely contorted, as though others had fought upon this very location before and the sun had hardened the misshapen earth... They would have to be mindful as not to sprain a fetlock during their scuffle.

Nearby a lone rabbit darted through the brush, but the Haflinger paid it little mind as she waited for her sparring partner to make his appearance. At her side, Kasai sat, yawning widely and showing off sharp teeth to the world, black-tipped tail flicking in the grass. The white tigress' keen, ice-blue eyes spotted the small animal, but she remained stationary by the stocky mare's side. Now was not the time for play, but for practice.

"He will come," Romani stated resolutely to her striped companion, "We must simply have patience." Within her golden breast, her heart twisted with anticipation and nervousness. Would Destrier find her skills satisfactory? Would he treat her as an equal upon the battlefield? So many questions that would only be answered in time... But there was no ignoring the growing feeling of excitement that filtered through her blood and warmed her body, although she couldn't place why.

"He will come..."

@[Destrier]

ooc: Seasonal Spar! Destrier may make the first attack if he wishes.
Wordcount: 611 | 0/3 Attack | Magic and Companions are allowed.
Setting: Afternoon in the World's Edge, when the mornings mists are dispersing the land. The sun is shining and there is a light breeze, and the ground is upturned from previous spars and weather conditions. Trees surround the space in a vague mockery of an 'O' shape, with the crashing waves of the cliffs to be heard to the west. To the east, near the trees, there's a small brook.


She is Fast and Thorough
And Sharp as a Tack
She's Touring the Facility
And Picking up Slack


colourize-stock | arctic-stock | imi art



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Messages In This Thread
Fingernails that Shine like Justice [Destrier] - by Romani - 01-08-2015, 10:42 PM

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