Яikyn

Something about today feels… important.

While I was not sure precisely what it was that makes me feel this way, I allow the curious urge to continue onwards to lead me. At first, it was what some would call a “mosey,” slow, ambling, eyes wandering all about for something interesting, but my walk soon had gathered pace. The world floats by at a swift canter, the spring smells buffeting my face, sending invigorating tremors through my skin as the Sun melts away the Earth’s meager keeping of snow. Mud puddles explode beneath me, splatter the still plush lining of my coat with murky gray brown – I charge onward.

To where?

Who knows? I rarely ever do; I just go where my feet take me.

The hillocks of the Thistle Meadow pour into little clusters of trees, their branches barely tinged with the vibrant green of spring. To the North, I can imagine the Basin blooming, its wildflowers and bees humming, the bears slowly ambling from their caverns; here, here is a different sort of green than there. Here the green is rich and verdant. It does not struggle against stone, ice, and wind, but thrives; rooted precisely where grass would chose to be rooted, if it had a choice in where its seed landed.

To the east, the Sun rises, casts long, lemon rays across the whole world in a pastel spill. He burns to my left, the same side still emblazoned with burns from an encounter not so far away, the irony not lost as I let a youthful laugh break from me, hind legs kicking out in a buck. I am alive! I want to shout at the God, the clatter of my hooves gathering beneath me as I bolt into a gallop the resonating battle cry of the soul my lips refrain from belting. I am alive and you and your behemoth pegasi cannot stop me!

The snow melt, as minimal as it was, seems to have wreaked some of its usual mayhem as I crest a large hill. The next ridge over cuts off at the middle point, dropping down in a sheer line to the ground, which is littered in the grass and earthy debris that had been the rounded shape of its other face; the sudden stop I apply causes dirt and strands of green growth to fly erratically outwards, my body sliding, pivoting, hind legs the anchor, so that I somewhat slide to a halt, parallel to the dilapidated edge of the hill.

It feels an awful like a podium, this hill; like the rocky outcropping that Deimos uses to command the herd from, the same which my mother had stood atop, and decreed her laws. My ears lift, my eyes sparkle, my tail takes on the bouncy sway and curve of a mind enraptured by the game it plays.

Turning back to stand abreast that hillock like the Prince I am, I lift my crown, proudly wearing the Sun as a garment across my burn laden skin. It glints off the bronze plating of my shoulder as the wind tousles through my tangled locks again, the Meadows sprawling out and away, reaching into trees, into the blue line of the sea, and the black, tangled masses of the cursed land.

[ - All members are strongly encouraged to participate, as they will otherwise be excluded from the selection of Leadership roles within the group, and will miss out on other key information.
- Characters who have not previously expressed interest are welcome, including those simply interested in overhearing. However, I ask that all members please be respectful of our group, and seriously consider whether or not you really need to be there. This is mostly an option I've left available so that characters who may require some IC prodding towards the group can meander in.
- We will be discussing who our Leaders will be, as well as introducing our political system. There will be the introduction of missions as well as individual characters, and plot opportunities!
- Never hesitate to ask questions here, on skype, or via PM! ]

the night for thieves.