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02-18-2015, 10:29 PM
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Ophelia
Lost in the shadow of an endless grace...
Explosions had shaken the ground as she remained on the sands, her communication with Gaucho having happened only briefly prior. Strange, dual colored gaze stared out at the horizon, watching rolling waves cresting where the ocean had never been allowed before. Absently, she pondered the ramifications of such a drastic change, and she shuddered at the thought of being trapped on an island. Ophelia, though perhaps owing her allegiance here and there throughout time, was a wanderer - hooves ruled by soul. Being surrounded by waters on all sides was the definition of misery. Fortunately, she was given a key, one currently being stashed by her dragon, Tinek, and she was free to come and go as she pleased. Such were the rewards of aiding the leader in returning his memories, she supposed. Billowing sand irritated her short, white coat, and she blinked long, white lashes against her cheeks, trying her best to ignore the sun. Ophelia would stay only long enough to made proper appearances before making the long trek north to her home of cascading white snowbanks and effortlessly heavenward mountains. Her heart soared at the thought, fluttering at the possibility of seeing him there. The Sun God’s wisdom had set her on a new course, and she looked forward to the possibility of hope and trust – two emotions wrenched from the icy confines of her soul from years of torment. Sticky sweat clung to her coat, darkening overlapping skin which appeared almost blue given then dark tint beneath fine, white hairs. Long ago, she remembered this feeling, remembered living in this land under another leader: Kri. She had been so young then, naïve and foolish. Just there at the tree she had denounced Kri, stating her resignation after the warrior-queen’s decree had cost Ophelia her very identity. Mousy, gray lips curled downward in a thoughtful frown, disappearing into the perfect, flawlessly etched tomes of her eidetic mind. Remembering all in stunning clarity was a gift and a curse, and she exhaled heavily, counting the seconds until she could politely return to the land she lead in the north. Rustling sounds of hooves on sand caught her attention, and Ophelia’s delicately tipped ears snapped back, listening to the interloper with interest. Carefully, she turned her head to look over her back, her silver armor glinting brightly in the summer sun. White tendrils of mane tumbled over her shoulders and caught in her horn, the ends drenched in hues of clotted blood. One eye was a graceful, sky blue and the other a violent, hazy red, and they swept over the mare with curiosity, analyzing the fine details which etched themselves permanently in her mind. This stranger was lovely, unique in color and fascinating all at once. Perhaps the most interesting feature was the two, feathered wings behind her ears – rather useless, but pretty nonetheless. A single, amused brow quirked at this stranger’s words, her accented voice rolling and bold for her size. Ophelia smiled, not the least bit insulted. Perhaps once, she belonged here, but never once had she called the desert her home. She and the God of the Sun would just have to agree to disagree on the glories of his wretchedly hot desert. “Astute,” she replied, nodding. “I am Ophelia the Forsaken, Lady of the Aurora Basin.” Ophelia’s own tones were soft, chime-like and girlish. A soft hush set listeners at ease, and her tongue enunciated with the grace of a leader. The way she spoke, the lithe edges of her slender figure and her clever tact all made her appear to be an unassuming, non-threatening mare, but she was a shadow, a thief in the night and a spy among spies. Little occurred in Helovia that she did not know about, and on more than one occasion, she had manipulated herds for her gain, but never once had she been caught… “I am a friend of Gaucho’s, and I came to see if he was all right. While I am here, I pledged to aide his herd in whatever ways I can. Tell me, what can I do for you?” Her question was asked earnestly, an honest interest backing the gentle inquiry. --------- (698 words) (0/3) @[Maren] |
 Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done. Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning. |
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