the Rift


[OPEN] young tree [hatching]

Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549
Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT
Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit Bunnie
#1
The little orb I’d been returning to throughout the course of each day, carefully hidden away in a meshing of grasses, branches, and leaves in the fringes of the Labyrinth, seemed to be moving. 
 
I hadn’t dared hide it in there, mostly because the bamboo shoots seemed to magic their way about, always changing, so that it was a new conundrum every time I went in there (or maybe I’m just bad at mazes).  So, the egg had come to live in a small, outer edging of bamboo which formed a crescent moon, which I had found rather ironic, considering the Moon had been the one to spare this land of the Rift’s darkness.
 
It was this orb that had kept me so close to the Flats; this orb that had allowed me to meet with Nymeria in battle, as well as the great Gaucho.  I hadn’t dared go very far from it, worried that someone like me might decide it should be his now; I also had minor concerns for raccoons and other creatures, having seen enough ransacked nests to know that egg children must be awfully tasty.  My own body had narrowed in the cold months, the length of the winter stealing the nourishment I needed, and while grass was not eggs or rabbits, I figured every thing else was hungry, too.
 
Birdsong had snuck up on the world just as Frostfall had tried to cleave to it, the warmth seeming to bring to life something deep within the gift the Lights had given me, so that it is now gently wavering to and fro.  As I lower my nose to investigate, the whole thing suddenly ruptures.  In a bursting radiance of light, sparkling dust, and brittle shell, the containment field of rich greens, browns, and gold is no more; instead, there is a small, damp, large eared creature with two smooth bumps on its head. 
 
His head, I think, feeling a curious tickle in my mind.  It feels like leaves, sun warmed, if leaves could drag their greenness along your brain.  I am filled with the impression of branches swaying, of rain, dripping down somewhere in the distance, its smell carried to me by far away winds.  As my eyes look over him, these sensations are met with the visage of his richly brown and black coat, the gold racing through it in a pattern I recognize as the elemental form of the Spark: lightning.  Among the lightning are bright white patches in a pattern I’ve seen young deer wear, making me think they won’t always be there, like clouds among his brown pelt.  Small, richly green plants curl along side the knobs of his cream colored horns, ribbons of gold sparkling in the pale, bone like material.  His eyes are closed, lashes a black, subtle line, and his golden hooves are tucked beneath him, almost as if he is sleeping.
 
Something in me flutters.  That flutter ignites, begins a painless escapade through my veins and thoughts that make me feel very strongly the urge to laugh, weep, and dance about all at once.  The embers are stilled by the cool presence that is this newborn fawn, serene and perfect in the shadow of the bamboo, a being that I give a name to as if it has always been his, and always will be.
 
"Wake up, Duir," I ask him.  He’s probably the only being I’ve ever gently asked anything of, not a meager ounce of demand reaching into the emotional tenor of my voice.
 
He does.
 
His eyes are forests illuminated by sunlight, and they blink curiously at me, unaccustomed to the world’s colors, so vibrant, or the vast and stark space highlighted with gold that is my figure looming above him.  He’s not afraid, though – rather interested, but quietly so, a long moment spreading between us where we appraise each other’s souls through the windows of our eyes.
 
He bleats, a tiny sound, a sound that makes me smile like a lunatic, and prance in place.  What the hell?  How cute!  It inspires me to find him something tasty as he attempts to wobble onto all fours, toppling down a few times as I trot away and come back; it’s not much, but the fresh, green shoots of bamboo make my mouth water as I set them down in front of Duir.  The small creature gives my residual saliva only the smallest of reproachful glances before he takes his first lustful bites, happily munching away with his tuft of a tail spinning.


[  OOC: BABY MAGIDEEEEEER ]


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Messages In This Thread
young tree [hatching] - by Rikyn - 05-06-2016, 09:24 AM
RE: young tree [hatching] - by Rexanna - 05-06-2016, 10:51 PM
RE: young tree [hatching] - by Rikyn - 05-11-2016, 12:37 PM
RE: young tree [hatching] - by Rexanna - 05-11-2016, 10:35 PM
RE: young tree [hatching] - by Rikyn - 05-19-2016, 12:21 PM
RE: young tree [hatching] - by Rexanna - 05-20-2016, 09:21 PM
RE: young tree [hatching] - by Rikyn - 05-31-2016, 11:59 AM
RE: young tree [hatching] - by Rexanna - 06-03-2016, 01:09 AM
RE: young tree [hatching] - by Rikyn - 06-14-2016, 10:33 AM
RE: young tree [hatching] - by Rexanna - 06-18-2016, 01:09 AM
RE: young tree [hatching] - by Rikyn - 06-22-2016, 02:06 PM
RE: young tree [hatching] - by Rexanna - 06-25-2016, 01:17 PM
RE: young tree [hatching] - by Rikyn - 06-30-2016, 11:08 AM
RE: young tree [hatching] - by Rexanna - 07-03-2016, 08:19 PM
RE: young tree [hatching] - by Rikyn - 07-07-2016, 12:26 PM
RE: young tree [hatching] - by Rexanna - 07-10-2016, 11:45 PM
RE: young tree [hatching] - by Rikyn - 07-14-2016, 01:20 PM

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