the Rift


[OPEN] on our way home [Cypress]

Azarel Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#1
Azarel trotted forward with long, graceful steps and almost flew over the ground. Of course the colt expected the spotted filly behind him to follow, but she decided for herself, didn't she? Fluffy was clinging to his withers with her claws deeply buried in his golden skin, desperately trying to hang on. She had never sat on the back of a trotting horse, or even a galloping horse. If she had been able to speak to him like she could with her Mama - Deli -, she would've told the colt to slow down. Aza slowed down - as if magic had occurred and he had heard her plea - and breathed somewhat heavy. That had felt great, and his muscled body relaxed as he took a few slow steps forward. The river on the meadow was right ahead of them, and he could see his mama stand on the other side. Buck.
A frown decorated the colt's lips and he observed his mama closely. She was tensed, and she seemed angry. 'Oh, why me?', the colt thought sadly and lowered his head as he walked closer to the river. Mama looked up at him, and she glared at him with worry and anger in her blue eyes.
"Azarel. Where have you been?" He looked up and laid back his golden ears against his neck. He hated it when his mama was mad. It sucked. "I'm sorry, mama... I was in the woods, and I made a new friend..." Azarel carefully glanced back at the dark spotted filly and then looked at his mama again.

Fluffy jumped off from his back and stretched herself with a big yawn, before she jumped over the river and walked to her bonded, only to jump up on her back. The jaguar rolled herself into a ball of fur and fell asleep on the mare's still wide back. No more bouncing up and down, just wagging from side to side. The feline sighed with a purr and cuddled her bonded's back. So happy to be home.
Azarel looked at Fluffy with disappointment and then looked at Mama, into her piercing blue eyes. "Mama, I met Indigo Eyes in the woods." He gave a vague try for a smile, but the harsh look in his mother's eye wiped it away. "And two others. Ghost and Snowblood. Snowblood said she knew you. Does she, mama? She was white with a bunch of red on her and biiiig blue eyes." The colt widened his eyes as he spoke about Snowblood's eyes, to add an effect. His mama raised a 'brow as she watched her son, and sighed.

"That was probably Harmony, because she's the only one I know of that has such an appearance. But still Aza, you have to be careful. Dezba cannot protect you, because she's just a baby."
Azarel looked down and sighed, only to look up again. His big eyes were full of innocence and sadness, something that made his mama melt immediately. He looked at the river and found a shallow place beneath the blue water. The sun stood high on the sky, giving a pleasant warmth to the air and warming the winds that at the same time cooled their coats.
He took a few careful steps over the river, and glanced back at Cypress who just stood there. "Come Cypress, this is my mama." The colt smiled widely at her and nicked his head at his mama's direction.

"Talking wisely."
"Mama talking."

ooc: The muse didn't work like I wanted, but I got a decent post anyways :3 Also, I play Delinne and therefor I give myself permission to powerplay her and Dezba xD
word count: 579
tags: @[Cypress], Open


original coding by Neo
Drawing made by Sei

Credits


Cypress Posts: 72
Hidden Account
Filly :: Unicorn :: 12 hands :: 10 months
Cy
#2
[Image: 5273ea7639538]

Cypress

I was told I could run, will you run if I do?


The other filly was now trotting with fluffy on his back. Her claws seemed to be sticking into his skin. Cypress would think it would hurt, but she didn't know about Aza, he seemed perfectly fine with it. As we trotted away from the threshold Cypress felt different. Like she was more free. It felt different out here more open than that forest where you had to weave your way through trees and it felt hard to breath.
But out here, Cypress felt better.

She was sure Aza didn't hear but she spoke, "I like it here" her mouth shaping the words to fit the atmosphere where they came out. Azarel had come to a river. Where on the other side his must be mother stood grazing. A frown was on Aza's face his eyes glittered with regret. Something like that. "Azarel, where have you been?" the colt laid his ears back upon his neck, replying. "I'm sorry, mama... I was in the woods, and I made a new friend..." his voice trailed off as he glanced at Cypress. Her small curious eyes glanced back at him, then looking down to the ground again, Cypress listened to them.
The black feline leaped off Azarel's back, taking a small leap over the river, and right onto the darker back. The fur ball cuddled up tightly on her back looking already warm and comfy. Then Aza spoke to his mother again looking straight into her sky blue eyes "Mama, I met Indigo eyes in the woods" he paused then spoke again, "and two others. Ghost and Snowblood. Snowblood said she knew you. Does she, mama? She was white with a bunch of red on her and biiiig blue eyes."
Cypress laughed when he said big, and extended the I's. It was cute. And the winded of his eyes when he told he of Snowblood, which she thought was Harmony. Because she spoke of this... Delinne? She must be Azarel's mother. Delinne spoke next, "that was probably Harmony, because she's the only one I know of that has such an appearance. But still Aza, you have to be careful. Dezba cannot protect you, because she's just a baby." Dezba- oh! she means fluffy! Cypress thought another shocked look on her face for a few moments until she freshened it with a new layer of smile.
The sun wasn't low in the sky like at home. Now it was high casting a good warmth over them. Aza stepped into the river that softly parted for his hooves. As it rushed by them pleasantly. "Come on Cypress, this is my mama" he said nicking his head in his mothers direction. "Oh, okay."
Cypress said as she made her way across the river slowly. When she got to the other side, and stood next to Azarel, she didn't know what would ever come next on this new adventure.

"Cypress talk"”Others talk”


482 Words

*C y p r e s s
T h e K i n d

[Image: 15d7tjd.jpg]
Permission for magic or cruelty directed to Cypress at all times. But not death.
Pixel-Tamme

Reginald Posts: 165
Hidden Account atk: 4 | def: 7.5 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 17.1 hh :: 3 HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE
Ka'Mate :: Harpy Eagle :: None & Ka'Ora :: Harpy Eagle :: None M.E.
#3

[Reginald CRASH!! I hope you don't mind! <3]

Reginald stands in the shield of the tree-line’s shadow, out of the full glare of heat. He does not like what he sees; a dark mare who is not his mother, two children who wade across the river towards her, a furred thing that rides upon the backs of the interlopers as though they were his vehicles of war.

Interlopers--that is what they are to Reginald. He does not understand that these lands are free terrain, open to every soul who happens to wander across the verdant, if sunbaked, soil. No, all that Reginald knows is that he was born here—he has called it home since the very first breath of air tickled his nostril, slithered in his lung. It was the rain-kiss air he was bred in, that he was baptized in; it is here that he knows his mother and father to reside when they are not called to the corners of the world for the sake of duty. Even if his parents do not deign to call this realm theirs, then dammit, he will claim what they will not. He has claimed the meadow. These intruders are not allowed.

But he does not charge into battle—no. Reginald knows himself now, and anger will undo him. So he studies them for a time; his eyes linger on the white-lightning that adorns the large mare’s neck and sides. She is big-bodied, but not as tall as mother is; he casts her thought aside, for he is unimpressed. Next, his eyes slide to the smaller female, a dainty little thing who seems very near his own age. Fillies—are they all so frail and sickly? Reginald snorts, taking in her speckled appearance, her dirty, rust-colored mane and tail, and decides she’s ugly. His standard for beauty is high; he has seen the epitome of it borne in the body of the little girl of the north. This…peasant holds no candle to it, and yet he is oddly drawn to her, intrigued with the discovery of another filly. Ugly or not, Reginald ponders the idea of approaching just to get a better look, for he wants to look at her.

He waits, however, and gazes on the young boy instead. Golden—larger—older, it seems like. Reginald is large for his age because of his bloodline—Abraham is larger still. This golden interloper seems taller in comparison, but Reginald knows it is only the age that makes this so, for if they were born in the same month he knows the fire-clad lad would not hold a candle to the twins. Reginald thinks this to boost his own arrogant swagger; he succeeds.

Stepping carefully over the underbrush, Reginald approaches the group, his pace steady, a bit hesitant, yet deliberate in its drive. They do not know of his weakness—and so, if he hides the pant deep in his breast, they will never know. Besides, he only wants to look at them for the moment. He plans no ill will for them—his intentions are as pure as the boyhood he lives in.

For now.



walk walk walktalk talk talk


               R E G I N A L D               

You will lose your throne to the chosen ones
The chosen ones will rise
morguefile

Azarel Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#4


Azarel
Don't ever take a single second to breathe,

they're going to send me on a murdering spree
Mama looked at Cypress and smiled widely, a warm smile that only a mother could give. She looked tired though, as if she had been through a lot while the little colt had trotted away to the forests. Carefully and slowly, mama took a step closer to the dark filly next to him and extended her neck to take in her scent. Azarel stood still and looked around, only to notice a foal a bit further away. It was grey with dark spots all over it's body, and it had a black blaze as well as black hair. He couldn't see much more because the grass was too tall.
"Hey, mama? There's someone else there." He said, but he had lowered his voice so that the foal wouldn't hear. If he didn't have superears, that is.
The black mare who called herself his Mama rose her head and looked around, and too saw the little dappled foal. Her smile disappeared slightly, and took a step in the unknown foal's direction to stand in front of both Azarel and Cypress. "Azarel, stand behind me. You too, little girl. Dezba, come up and aid me." The golden boy watched as the jaguar jumped up on his mother's back and stared in the direction of the foal. They were ready if anything were to happen.

Azarel turned his bold head to the dainty delicate filly next to him and smiled. "My Mama will protect us. Don't worry. How do you feel?" He asked, still smiling. Cypress was a pretty girl, and she probably knew it herself. The boy almost lost himself in her big, green eyes, but woke up when his mama said something. "What?" He said, turning his head to the big mare. The Friesian snorted and bumped his shoulder.
"I said, the foal doesn't seem to be dangerous. We can go home, if you want to." He looked at Cypress and then at his Mama again, before he nodded slowly.
The mare started to walk towards the World's Edge, and the colt nicely followed. He looked at the arabian filly and smiled widely. "You coming with us?"

"Talk talk talk"

w/c 356 | ooc so bad, I'm sorry ;~; | tags @[Cypress] @[Reginald]


Credits
Original code by Aeolle

Cypress Posts: 72
Hidden Account
Filly :: Unicorn :: 12 hands :: 10 months
Cy
#5
[Image: 5273ea7639538]

Cypress

I was told I could run, will you run if I do?


The small dappled foal looked up into big blue eyes of beauty. Delinne's eyes were beautiful, as they were filled with light and mesmerizing color. She, taking a step closer made cypress feel closer to warmth and protection that she had felt with her parents and sister. But she had lost that feeling entirely. Even when she was around the others at the Threshold. The mom took in her scent. As did Cypress.

It was only then did Cypress notice the dark and dappled foal over in the tall swaying grass. Aza had spoke of it to his mum and she had turned her attention to the colt. Even though the foal had lowered his voice, Cypress had a suspicion that the colt had heard what he said. The words 'stay behind me', and 'aid me' got jumbled up in Cypress' mind. She didn't know what to do! Help her? No, that was stupid! She would just follow Aza and hope she was right. "Mama will protect us, don't worry,how do you feel?" Azarel said turning to Cypress smiling. "I am good." The filly said softly.

"What?" Azarel had asked his mother. He seemed to have forgotten about her, getting lost in Cypress's deep green eyes. Full of secrets loves and losses.
"I said the foal doesn't seem to be dangerous, we can go home if you want to." He looked Her then his Mama and nodded slowly. Aza looked at her with wide multicolored eyes, asking "are you coming with us?" Cypress wanted to say yes, but she wanted to see this... foal. But she nodded anyway and started to follow Aza's mother trotting ahead smiling emerald stones glittered in the bright sunlight.

"Cypress talk"”Others talk”


277 Words
|Ooc not my best :(
@[Azarel] @[Reginald]
*C y p r e s s
T h e K i n d

[Image: 15d7tjd.jpg]
Permission for magic or cruelty directed to Cypress at all times. But not death.
Pixel-Tamme

Reginald Posts: 165
Hidden Account atk: 4 | def: 7.5 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 17.1 hh :: 3 HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE
Ka'Mate :: Harpy Eagle :: None & Ka'Ora :: Harpy Eagle :: None M.E.
#6

Reginald does not slow his pace, though the mare has placed herself between him and his goal. Yes, he wishes to see these other foals up close; to scrutinize, criticize, enhance his own boundless arrogance. In fact, her caution only serves to swell his breast in pride—for he is a danger to behold. Yes, you should be cautious around him. Even those mares that tower high above him; yes, show fear, show alarm in his coming! His mind races with the excitement he feels from her movement, and he continues to stalk, to approach, his curiosity piqued even further.

They whisper; he doesn’t hear. Yet their eyes remain on him, suspicion clear in their irises. He returns their gaze with a glare of his own; his grey eyes narrow with the skepticism boiling in his throat, with the irritation with their presence in his meadow, in his river. He does not speak; his eyes blaze all their own.

They turn to leave. Good riddance, he thinks, watching as the ugly little filly allows her eyes to linger on his form for a little bit longer. In response, Reginald snorts at the retreating party; it’s rude and sloppy, full of his disdain for their presence, his anger that they dare breathe his air. His business done and his curiosity sated for the meantime, Reginald turns his back on them, settling his limbs into a gangly trot to find his mother, inform her of these interlopers on their land. He wishes he were older—larger—taller. He wishes he could enforce his own border and eradicate the pestilence of strange horses. Sadly, he is but a foal, and subject to the winds of fate. He is no king.

Yet.



walk walk walktalk talk talk


               R E G I N A L D               

You will lose your throne to the chosen ones
The chosen ones will rise
morguefile


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