| Aurora Basin Scholar |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 15 hands :: 7 years Buff: NOVICE |
| Krazie |
10-05-2013, 02:50 PM
(This post was last modified: 10-05-2013, 03:36 PM by Huyana.)
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H U Y A N A
the world is drowning
The thought of being a mother had never suggested itself to the rain child; she had simply assumed that the path of knowledge was a lonely one, the passage so narrow, unsuitable for the clumsiness of little hooves. Perhaps the lack of parents and the loveless childhood she had led put her off the idea, or perhaps she was far too preoccupied with learning about the world and its mysteries to give it much thought. She had never fawned over the idea of babies, nor had she given a second glance to mothers doting their children— first and foremost, she was an intellectual, not a machine meant to produce and create carelessly, too preoccupied with the conception and production of children to wonder and think and learn.
But she had been through darkness and neverending night and was tired of this lifeless world.
New life flourished within her—she could feel it bloom within her womb like a burgeoning flower, the growing child contorting her slender silhouette into something cumbersome. At first, she had been apprehensive of her impending motherhood; perhaps in the very recesses of her mind, Huyana was afraid that her own children would suffer the very same fate as she; unloved and abandoned for greater ideals, cast away like driftwood upon a rocky shore for higher callings, but something deep in her chest said that her children did not have to endure the same experiences of she—this was new life, a new beginning, the onset of something thrilling and unknown. A child would not put every dream she had on halt, would not crush her aspirations—it would be something to love, something to teach. She would cherish this child, teach it forgiveness and love in a world which had none; she would tell it stories and watch it play in the rain like she had once, so many years ago, though this time it would have the loving gaze of a mother watching it.
Huyana moved quietly through the fringes of the glass lake, starlight shimmering through the ripples of her steps; she thought of Deimos, and felt a smile tug at the corners of her lips, embracing the mild delicacy of her face like the new now clinging to grass. This child was to be half reaper and half rain; an amalgam of two different worlds entirely.
Cleft hooves moved leniently through the water, dispersing the little pinpricks of light with every graceful step. The night was flush with warmth and promise, the full moon lending its light to the serene mare and the valley in which she dwelled, gently illuminating the pleasant plumpness of her abdomen. Her face tilted up softly as she gazed at the moon's face, that pale disc reflecting across her wondering blue eyes.
""
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| Hidden Account atk: 5.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 :: 3 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE |
| wanda |
With Lena's assistance, his fears had been assuaged, and for that he was eternally grateful. Carnesîr moved without hesitation through his home, more at ease from the nurse's haunting melodies than he could remember in his entire short life, as if she had not just lifted the tension from their conversation but from the weights dragging at his too-weak body. Perhaps he should meet her more often (an idea that appealed to him in more ways than one to his young and testosterone filled body.) A new sense of security enfolded him, protecting his vulnerable mind, and even when the nightmares plagued him, all he had to do was conjure up that feeling of peace he had experienced and it healed him once again, a special kind of savior.
He wandered more often than ever, but he never ran again- not yet, and hopefully he never again feel the euphoric panic that devoured all sensations that caused him to flee.
His favorite time of day was when the moonlight and starlight glittered on the skins of the sleeping, bathed the world in a pale, strangely detached light. It was then he moved most tirelessly, all felid grace and liquid flexibility, hooves unfaltering beneath him. Perhaps he should be trying to leave the valley of prosperity, venture away from the comfort of his home. For it had become home, a welcoming presence, especially once his worries had been cleansed, leaving him as light as the bones of a bird. He liked to imagine himself sturdy as the mountains, not frail and thin as he had once been. Of course, in many ways Helovia had wrung him out- he had lost weight when he had arrived, fearful of the cold-faced strangers and terrified of the gray lord Deimos, unable to swallow down the wet, plain grass that did not taste of the elvish spices and flavoring. Eventually, he had began to pack on the pounds he had lost, but he still remained thin and lean, all sharp edges and razor lines.
In any case, this was where his heart lay, despite his thoughts often circuitously wondering about Onni and the Veins of the Gods and the long history of the land of the sun.
Tonight Carnesîr's hooves had him drifting towards a single figure, abdomen with a special curve he had seen only a few times before in his life. Outlined in the alabaster of the night sky, at first he did not recognize the mare set out before him. The predominant feature of which Carnesîr associated with her, the blue of the rain and the gray of clouds and the polished ebony of dark stormclouds, was mostly gone, replaced by the ominously sharp imprints of shadow and the brilliance of cream and silver lighting. Even her lithe shape, curvaceous and sleek, was malignantly misleading- for she had the unmistakable shape of a pregnant mare, and the boy could not remember Huyana, his heroine, heavy with an unborn foal. But as he came drifting closer, just looking for a story from a stranger, he began to recognize the shape of the face and the ears and the line of the back, and even the profile of the horn, and then the smell of brine and wet earth and summer rain.
Pregnant? But with whom?
"Huyana?" He pronounces her name softly, with the faintest note of yearning in it. "How have you been? Are you... you are with foal? A foal?" Since he had arrived, he had been working on his language ability.
"Who with?"
He doesn't dance about the point, not today.
carnesîr,
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| Aurora Basin Scholar |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 15 hands :: 7 years Buff: NOVICE |
| Krazie |
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H U Y A N A
the world is drowning
Huyana; she turned her head toward the soft sound of her own name, eyes groping through the moonlight for a face, a name. Carnesîr—it was the young grullo she had found distraught in the Threshold; she had recognized the exotic lilt to his words. Carnesîr, of whom she had a special fondness, for they were both foreigners in this strange land of dawn and new beginnings, decidedly tied through fate to this place they had no ties to. She thought of the child flourishing in her womb, who would be equal parts stranger and native, who would know no other land than Helovia, who would only know the splendor and antiquity of its ancestral home from her own words, the stories she had gleaned from the Guardian of Tomes.
The rain girl smiled at the scholar meandering towards her on deft cleft hooves, looking frightfully more slender as she grew ever wider with the glad encumberment of the general's nestling—she puzzled over this, fretting over his deteriorating state, but her obvious pregnancy had piqued the grullo's interest—that much was obvious from the wonder in his earth-colored eyes, the inquisitive lilt in his features that asked her so many questions. How have you been? Are you... you are with foal? A foal?, he queried aloud, if the astonishment in his face had not inquired that already. She laughed at this, clear and bright like summer rain, blue eyes glittering with amusement at his directness. "I've been well, Carnesîr," the mare managed to answer between chuckles, "I am with child," she confirmed. Who with? her mirth paused, a sudden tenderness permeating through her gaze. Huyana watched him thoughtfully, letting night-sounds permeate through the air between them. "Deimos," she admitted softly, warm and earnest in the way only a lover can sound. Lips tilted upward dotingly, wondering if he would express disbelief at the thought of death creating life, as she had upon the discovery of her pregnancy, and she beamed at him, feeling more open-hearted than she had in a while.
She tilted her head. "You are thinner than I remember," Huyana murmured with eyebrows furrowed, sounding concerned, taking a tentative step out of the frigid water toward him, cocking her head with worry for the meager scholar before her. All the previous bliss she had bore before had drained out of her face as her eyes went over his alarmingly willowy frame. "Why?" It was her turn to be direct.
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| Hidden Account atk: 5.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 :: 3 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE |
| wanda |
Peace is savory. It is a dish to eat and a drink to sip at, a hot chocolate to nurse between cold hands. For a long time it replenishes you, at first too hot to enjoy, and then you revel in the creamy taste; and then it is gone, only dregs left at the bottom of the cup. All too soon it's been swallowed by your hungry lips, and the world erupts into war, shattering the glass in your hands and leaving blood on your fingertips.
For now the world was quiet and all could leisurely drink their drinks, but how long would it be before it was gone, evading the grasp of the peaceful, the harmonious seraphs, the gay children and the jovial old men, the nursing mothers and the long-legged women awaiting their gangly boys? How long would it be before the moody, bitter teenagers marched off eagerly into their first war, unprepared for the violence, the blood, the glory and the gore staining the frozen winter earth red? They were never aware of the devastating splendor of crimson painting the world awaiting them. They were white-teethed teenagers, practiced at aiming but not prepped for stealing lives, for wreaking havoc, for destroying and killing, for the earth to ripple and buck beneath them with the bombs and the glistening swords of the unicorns lowering to meet the charging equines, horses running aground, shields shattering and muskets meeting.
He watches Huyana, his friend, a stranger as much as a familiar, and wonders if the pacifist mare thought of how her child, son or daughter, may be expected to wage war. No doubt she would be a mother that abandoned foals dreamt of; cool and calm, collected and introspective, understanding and gentle. Mothers. They influenced more than anyone else in a young horse's life, teaching, nursing, raising, as their fathers ran off into war, into battle, to come back bruised and shattered remnants of their former selves.
It is the rainmare's laughter, a rippling chuckle, that draws him away from the morbid thoughts that follow him like a miserable black cloud. I am with child, she tells him, a passion in her eyes that almost makes him want to withdraw. Is that flicker, the spark, the ember of love? What is it like to love? He did not know love, only obsession, only lust, the craving for the hips of a mare. At the thought his loins tightened imperceptibly, and he shed the thoughts again, those thoughts of moonlight-bathed lovers beneath the velvet of the night sky, naked skin close and eyes sparkling with starlight, replaced by a stark image of the darkest stallion he had ever met. Deimos. The reaper, the lord of shifting shadow and summoner of death, a literal symbol of the most formidable and ruthless of opponents, with eyes cold and distant. Him? Love? Huyana, igniting warmth within the glacial regions of his frosted hearts? The rain and the death, coming together in a union that could only spell out the birth of a legend?
The stallion's tail lifts, kinking towards the tip, black plumes glittering with the alabaster light. "Ten lle manka ier tinu. Your happiness, my joy, rough translation... it makes more sense in my language." He offers her a gentle smile in return.
There is the softest of rustles as the daughter of rain and storms moves forth, coming closer to the soft yearling, encroaching on the space between them. In her voice, he detects only concern, and he marvels at it more than the faintly disturbed words themselves. When was the last time someone had just cared for him? Oh right. Never. It's a bitter thought, but he can't help it. It wasn't Carnesîr's fault his parents didn't love him, unappreciating of his different skills and different dreams, that he dared to break the endless chain of muscle-bound little lordlings of perfect behavior waiting to grow up into perfect muscle-bound lords.
Stepping forward tentatively in hopes of bring himself beside her to groom at her withers. There is no romance in this attempted gesture, only companionship. "Do not fret about me, elerrina. I have been lost, but I am finding myself."
carnesîr,
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