the Rift


once in the hands of fate...

Laviy Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#1


LAVIY
DON'T SHED A TEAR FOR ME, I STAND ALONE


My escape would have been faster and more complete had I flown but I have not had that luxury since I was a child. As it is I am lucky that there was chaos enough to keep everyones eyes and thoughts off of me.


Useless wings pinned tightly to my side I ran until I could run no longer. Next I walked until my wind recovered then I ran again and so on and so on and so on. Here and there I stopped in a shadowy, sheltered place to close my eyes for an hour but sleep was scarce for me on the whole. I could not afford it.


Run, walk, run, walk, run, walk, run…


I was walking again when I found the trail into the thick, dark wood. For a moment I hesitated then I plunged on full speed ahead. The speed did not last long but my determination kept me trudging deeper and deeper, as far away from the sun as I could get.


Walk, walk, walk, stumble, walk, walk…


Surely I am far enough away now, surely they will not find me here. If they are even looking at all. Optimism is not my way but really, what is one slave among many? I think I have gone far enough that pursuit would be little more than a waste of resources for them. Just to be safe I push myself even farther until my legs give out beneath me and I crumple in a heap on the snow covered forest floor.


Dreams carry me gently for a time, drifting on wings that are whole once again. Then a storm wakes in my subconscious mind. The dreams turn to nightmares and I scream as I fall from the sky…


My mismatched eyes pop open wide, rolling crazily as my heart races and my breath comes in sharp, shaky gasps. In what seems like hours but is really only minutes I slowly realize that I am not falling, I am truly, very firmly on the ground. The panic attack subsides.


I squeeze my eyes shut again waiting for the command to wake and get back to work. The command never comes. So, I did not dream my “flight” from the mountain then. Again I open my eyes but this time I take it slow savoring the light and breath of freedom. Suddenly my body begins to shake and I realize that sprawling here in the snow like this is probably not the healthiest thing I could possibly do. I get to my feet grudgingly not quite wanting to abandon that possibility of returning to sleep, a thing I could never have done before without tasting the lash as punishment.


My diminutive height means I am not really much more of a target standing than I was while lying down so I am not terribly worried about drawing attention. I am rather out in the open at the moment though, to fix that I tuck in under the sun-bowed branches of a tall white-trunked tree. From there I gaze out at the silent winter wood finding myself at a loss for… well, everything.


I have made my great escape and… what now?


What does one who has never lived without the commands of another to dictate her every move do when she suddenly finds herself free and alone?


Ambition does not boil my blood, I have no deep desires, no hidden secrets, no driving passions… my one dream is to fly again and, realist that I am, I know that can never, ever happen. What does this leave me? Nothing… nothing at all. Which is no more or less than I had before.


I am Laviy the once soldier-trainee, Laviy the slave girl, Laviy the broodmare, Laviy the field hand and now Laviy the lost. Nothing has changed except that I can roll over and go back to sleep without being whipped for my trouble. Weariness overtakes me again but this time I do not sink to the ground. Instead I turn my back on the strange world beyond, press my forehead into the rough bark of the tree and doze.



THIS PATH OF DESTINY, IS ALL MY OWN
HTML BY SARAHROO | IMAGE FROM WEHEARTIT



Africa the Starry-Eyed Posts: 727
Deceased
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 :: 6 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE
Silas :: Common Zephyr :: Roc Riven
#2

100%

They perched, huddled together for warmth, a united front against the bitter chill of Frostfall’s wretched wind as it howled mournfully through the Threshold’s groaning forest. The previous night’s snow lay like thick carpet across the floor below; the tough, wiry grass able to draw nutrients clear from the ravenous grasp of redwoods and their few oak bed-mates, had yellowed without sunlight, and grown sour. Birds and their mammal neighbours still sheltered in dens and hollows, safe from the threat of winter’s fierce blizzards, and bleak days fell short of their gloriously warm Tallsun span. Africa and Silas had stayed over the course of the night, unwilling to drive south while the cruel weather blinded their path and burnt their lungs- even now, while the sun strained in weak bursts to break through the weight of the cloud cover, they had been reluctant to submit to the cold.

The day wore on around them regardless, and once Silas parted from Africa to raid the skirt of the meadowland to the south where thistle shells still clutched tightly their helpless progeny. He was swifter than a parrot- born from the elusive Zephyrs who circled the globe endlessly, and seldom tired like the shape-shifted form of his beloved. The seeds offered the grumble of their writhing stomaches little satisfaction, but each knew the benefit, the energy to be drawn from the smallest of meals.

Tenderly, Africa preened the long, elaborate crest feather’s of her bonded, purring all the while with bright, beige eyes transfixed by the shimmering starlight illuminating the feathers down his sable back. He was far lovelier than she; whichever form she took, and always she wondered why he had come to tend her rotting mind and broken body that winter in the Basin. Never had she guessed him to be a product of that Basilisk egg.

There was a flicker of movement below, a small horse figure gifted with wings of sleek ebony, and both the parrot and the Zephyr’s sharp eyes swivelled to view her. At first glimpse she appeared swan-white, fittingly graceful though she stumbled to a halt just beyond the girth of their tree. Africa watched carefully, the caress of her round eyes less tender as pupils pinned with expanding interest- undetected, insignificant, like many assumed wildlife to be. Her heart did tremble though, wrought with empathy and concern, and it skipped apprehensively as the stranger collapsed to sleep; the soft wash of rose through her coat more evident as she lay sprawled through snow. The Grey stretched one side of her restless body backwards, and then the other; bright crimson tail waggling through a final puff of mottled grey feathers. Curiously she left the side of her companion, climbing artfully between branches in descent, until she was swaying upon the flimsy tip of her host’s lowest limb.

The mare woke suddenly at that point, and Africa startled, bouncing back along the branch with open wings and dancing claws until it thickened enough to support her properly. Turning her face cautiously, one cream eye returned to find the stranger lifting from her slush bed; walking, and pausing right beneath the tree. The parrot reached with a powerful beak more and peeled away rough bark from her perch, dropping it down upon the idle mare. Again, with pinning eyes still trained to the Pegasus, Africa stripped another slither from the branch and after rolling it across her dry, round tongue twice, threw it down.

Silas watched on bemused from above, hunched and wrapped snugly beneath his thick cloak of feathers.
Africa

Laviy Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#3


LAVIY
DON'T SHED A TEAR FOR ME, I STAND ALONE




Rough tree bark rubs sweat and shed fur off my forehead as I shift my weight settling my hooves into the bed of slimy leaves and thin snow. Comfortable now I doze, drifting in and out as various noises rouse me and then at last I am slumbering deeply again. This time my dreams remain peacefully uplifting in a way that my daily life has never been and I cling hard to them.

Snow drifts to my back from the branches above my head as winged creatures move through them but I sleep on...

Ms. Parrot’s first missile falls to the ground on my left side and does not rouse me...

The second, better aimed, connects squarely on my rear. It was delivered with enough force to cause a sharp, stinging sensation… much like the kiss of a whip, something I’ve felt more than often enough in my lifetime. I am awake instantly and turn cringingly to resume whatever assigned task I’d fallen idle in the middle of.

I am half way out from under the tree’s cover when I realize that I have no task to return to. There is no brutal unicorn standing over me with one of those judging glowers that so often marred their perfect faces. Confused now I stop moving entirely and consider the situation.

There is no slave driver in site and thus no whip, yet I know I felt one. Did I dream it as I dreamed my fall from the sky? No, no it felt far too real. Something hit me.. something…

A search of the ground finds the rolled bark pellet half sunk in the snow. What in the world? I suppose I might have scraped the bark off the tree in my sleep but I certainly didn’t hit myself with it. That would take more talent than I could possibly have. A puzzled look to the tree branches above me reveals nothing at first. Stumped I return to my hunt over the ground seeking clues of any kind.

The branches rustle and I look up again… nothing…

It is something like the fifth or sixth glance up that finally yields results and even then only tenuous ones. I spot, or at least am firmly convinced that I’ve spotted, the glint of a wide and rounded eye peering mischievously down at me.

Birds! Once my brothers and sisters of the air, in the carefree days of my youth, and now my greatest envy. I have suffered much in my life, much that perhaps I need not have were I stronger, braver, or simply luckier. It is not in me to stand against those more powerful than I but Gods help me I will not suffer such treatment from feathered pests!

My temper, slow to ignite but relentless once burning, flares to life. I quelch it just enough to act with some modicum of sense. Whirling about as if to flee the scene entirely I judge my distance from the tree trunk and at just the right place lash out hard with a hind leg. I believe I have hit solidly enough to send tremors through every branch in the great tree and perhaps even shake my tormentors loose. I apologize silently to the tree itself and whatever spirits might reside within it but still I hope my “attack” has some effect...





THIS PATH OF DESTINY, IS ALL MY OWN
HTML BY SARAHROO | IMAGE FROM WEHEARTIT




@[Africa] - please let me know if you'd rather not be tagged.

Africa the Starry-Eyed Posts: 727
Deceased
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 :: 6 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE
Silas :: Common Zephyr :: Roc Riven
#4

100%

The stranger’s uniquely shaded eyes combed the branches barring the view towards Africa again and again, and the parrot stared intently down with one shining gold eye, set into an offset white mask. Feathers prickled against the whirling breeze, its chilling breath rippling those mottled-grey’s which thatched together to form the protective surface layer; warm through winter, cool through summer. Perhaps the wandering clouds above, far behind as her backdrop offered some ability to blend, but that was not her intention- not primarily; it was more a bonus while she played.

There was a low rumble from the throat of the zephyr in the neighbouring tree as he watched the proceedings with a roll of his own lilac gaze, snatching blurred snippets here and there through the mare’s mind as she toyed with the creature below. Still he wished not to expose himself any more than truly necessary to the bitter breath of the cold season.

She turned, swiftly to leave; startled perhaps (Africa peered hard between the spindly branches which had moments before been a blessing to see), and a wave of disappointment swept through her small stocky frame; but flee the pale creature did not. With intrigue far beyond her natural, Pegasus’ sensibility, the parrot leaned closer, right as the other’s hind hoof accelerated into the mahogany barrel of her dormant perch. The tree trembled violently, the impact ricocheting along each gnarled branch until that beneath her shook too. Already off centre, the bird pitched forward, scrawny grey talons slipping quickly beneath the unexpected shift of her small weight. With feathers spraying hither and thither, startled from wings flung apart, Africa tumbled down inelegantly- screeching her dismay with each branch collected on the way.

Silas swooped the second his beloved was shaken from her post- large, starry wings flapping hurriedly about her descending body (though little could he do to help). He landed in the lowest bough above where Africa had come to rest in the slurry, and stared his concern upon her.

Dishevelled and quite sodden from the helpless struggle for reorientation, Africa in turn found her feet and felt immediately the wickedness of the snow bite her scaly skin. With no consideration required, her eyes pinched tightly closed, and she focused herself to transform there and then. Bones began at once to shift within her body; to twist and contort painfully so that she was completely vulnerable, engulfed in the pain of the task- but watched and guarded all the while by her valiant companion who dared not spare a second to remove his eyes from the unfamiliar horse. Should the creature have in any fashion crossed the invisible barrier marking the dappled shape-shifter’s space, he was prepared, wings ajar, to slow the world around her (or speed around the stranger) so that she would be again a horse in time to react.

Nearly twenty seconds later, Africa was teetering awkwardly across shivering legs- though slowly she began to still and her heart rate to slow. Still grappling for direction, she peered with lightly gilt eyes to smile at her four legged company. "I had that coming..." An apologetic laugh brushed by her lips, as she licked them- finding her mouth awfully dry since the form she had come from make not saliva. "I’m Africa, sorry if I startled you."
Africa

Laviy Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#5
LAVIY
DON'T SHED A TEAR FOR ME, I STAND ALONE


I do indeed accomplish what I wished, in fact the result is even better. A smug grin cuts my features as I hear the branches snapping above my head while the bothersome feather-brain attempts to halt it’s fall. Of course the screeching is an unexpected side effect, that I could have done without and I wince at each earsplitting rendition of the garbled birdsong. My next reaction is to duck instinctively as a swooping shadow falls from above. Apparently the troublemaker was not alone.

Turning back again I catch a glimpse of a swatch of night sky, very out of place in the dawning sunlight. That swatch flips like wings stretching out to shield it’s tumbling companion before the thing, whatever it is, retreats to the lower tree branches. I pay only enough attention to the parrot to assure myself that it has survived it’s fall before I move in an attempt to get a clearer look at the thing in the tree. I have no better luck than I did in catching a glimpse of my tormentor earlier.

With a sigh of regret I turn back to the bird, hoping to discover an easy way around it so I can find a better spot to watch this new oddity from. However, I find no bird. No, only a teetering winged mare who certainly was not there before. She calls herself Africa and apologizes for having startled me… well, I should think so! Where did she come from? How did she get there without me noticing and where did my bird go? Yes, my bird… I was by no means finished repaying it for it’s harassment and so until I do, I consider it mine.

I suppose it may have flown away while I studied the tree but I think I might have noticed and it surely didn’t look ready to fly again immediately. No, I am quite sure it was at least a little dazed. Peering intently around the hooves of Africa I look for signs of crushed bird body or hopping bird feet. I find neither…

Puzzled yet again I lift my gaze to the face of the stranger and my eyes fall on a glittering crown of winged lizards. Now I truly am startled and I stumble backwards muttering to myself in consternation. I have never seen a crown on one of my own kind before, though I’ve seen many who were soldiers. Crowns were always on the heads of beastly unicorns. I’d not even thought to look for one when this stranger appeared.

In my hasty attempts to put appropriate distance between us my hind legs slip landing my rear back in the muck. Deciding it is best to just remain still at this point I sweep my long, feathery wings forward to cover my bowed head. At least the useless appendages are good for something… hiding my shame.

“Forgive me majesty...”

I did not know, really I did not but I make no excuse for my delayed groveling. I know royalty has no use for such excuses. It is a good thing I remain unaware that she was the parrot or I’d be begging her to execute me as I deserve.



THIS PATH OF DESTINY, IS ALL MY OWN
HTML BY SARAHROO | IMAGE FROM WEHEARTIT


@[Africa]

Africa the Starry-Eyed Posts: 727
Deceased
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 :: 6 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE
Silas :: Common Zephyr :: Roc Riven
#6

100%

The crown, unlike the weight of its metaphor upon her soul, had by then become just another wiry strand of that mottled grey mane which sprouted down the entire length of her arced crest- though catching fleeting glimpses of its resonating, golden beauty whenever she paused to drink; Africa barely remembered it was there. As the other ceased her search (that certainly was what she seemed to be doing after the rather clumsy, inelegant descent of flesh and feather from the tree top), the young dappled mare caught glimpse of the surprise- that which seemed to stir still deeper from the suddenness of her appearance there, in a horse’s coat and tongue.

The stranger staggered a few strides in reverse, and Africa wanted immediately to reach forward, to grasp the rope of disquiet that seemed to have noosed around her throat and reel her back safely. She did not such thing though, having already caused enough mischief to set her quite off side already. Grimacing soft disappointment- her expression never one to hold back the truth of her spiralling thoughts and emotions, the one winged mare held both her jaw clenched against the barrage of words begging for escape, to reason and explain, and her position their where she had come to rest in the churned snow beneath the tree.

Quite inappropriately, no doubt, she began to giggle when the footing of her company was lost during retreat, and the harmless sound grew to echo though the chilly atmosphere around them. The other mare’s face had lowered also, but Africa never associated the gesture with the rank she had only recently come to bare- she was no different in spirit after all; a starry-eyed girl still struggling to breach the wall of maturity. Common sense had been ballooning through recent times, filling her mind with warnings and insight that she might once never have heeded, but as she found her place in the terrible world of Helovia, she was less and less able to just brush off lessons given- certainly those instilled by the deity of both her homeland and her heart.

Africa genuinely saw herself no more spectacularly than she always had- simple, and not nearly so wondrous and respected as those who had been in many ways her mentor.

"Now you’re wet too..." the sound of her amusement began to wane against the prowling breeze, and she missed entirely the purpose of the mare’s grovelling statement. Already she was slipping forward to straighten a feather (twisted perhaps in flight), that had appeared when the wings were lifted to shield the strange pale, unfamiliar face. The action was a natural impulse staining her Pegasus heart, and quickly she resolved the problem. "Are you alright? Honestly, I didn’t mean to startle you with the bark. I suppose I got a little carried away... a parrot can get away with naughtiness a horse could not, you know." She shrugged, her softly spoken and gentle words still tinged with remorse, but there was really little more she could offer to rekindle any favour in their meeting than that already given.

Africa


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