He didn't see the island where it floated in the sky. How could he? The stag was as unseeing and eyeless as the unfortunate elk he had opted to wear over his face, a morbid stupa celebrating a life lost and a walking grave; he wasn't even aware that he had arrived by the shrines of the gods, only that the ground was different beneath his feet and heat radiated towards the black skin like a clammy touch. The lonesome stag only realized that something was going on when something else suddenly surrounded his feet, and when he was brought upwards the sinking feeling in the gut had him snorting and prancing around on his cloud, dangerously close to tumbling off the edge had such a thing been allowed.

Somehow he arrived safely to the surface of the new feature in the landscape. He was relieved to find himself on solid ground again but immediately confounded since the soil upon which he stood was profoundly different from the one he had just left. Was this some kind of trick? Had he been cheated somehow, was there hidden people around waiting to see his reaction so they could laugh? Suspicious and wary the black stallion stalked onwards, walking with the usual high-kneed action and swaying head as horns and feet were used to prod and test the air, making sure neither object nor pitfall awaited him before he put weight on each limb. It was a slow way to travel, the only way he could walk safely; if running became necessary he would of course do so but it was a sorry sight to behold with plenty of stumbling, tripping and bumping into things.

Alas, this swishing of very long, very sharp horns weren't always the best way to go about either. Unwittingly wandering into the tent-city the young stallion is left clueless to the existence of roads or obstacles. When he wander straight towards one of the areas designated to the herdlands his horns catch onto a fluttering tent-side, and as Morir jerk his head roughly to get loose the sharp edges of the diamond spears open a long, gaping gash into the cloth.

The tearing sound make him stop. Stressed out and tense he stand there, a telltale proof of crime in form of a long strip of fabric dangling from the horns and obvious damage done to whatever structure he got caught in. The area seem deserted yet the stag stand frozen stiff, ears clipping nervously to catch any sound of movement... He isn't even sure himself why he doesn't just turn tail and run, before someone can catch him in the act of vandalism.

Leeka had been hovering around the Worlds Edge tent for a good part of the day, mutally admiring the works of craftsmanship within. Other members came and went but Leeka hardly whispered a word, a part of it being her reserved nature, another being she was not used yet to having to deal with company. Fact was she hadn't opened up to anyone and didn't exactly have anyone to call a friend, though Kahlua might as well count. But then Kahlua was friends with everyone as far as she knew as well her Queen so a relation of some sort was inevitable. Lately, she had mused over what her function in the herd should be. A craftmans? A solider? A sleuth? None of the titles jumped out at her and it felt like the most pathetic thing to just idle by and do nothing. Perhaps she was just to distracted to think clearly.

There was a more valid reason for her being here besides admiring the glassworks and sightseeing. Those were just a few perks to the journey. No, her real reason for coming the island was to understand the Gods and to speak them, in particular the Moon Goddess, patron of the Worlds Edge. This tent was suppose to be a shrine to pray at, where her words would be heard. It was the only clue she had but the task wasn't made any less dauntless because of it. The idea of a omniscient being of great power was a stretch for her otherwise limited imagination. The closest thing she had to compare to these entities was her dam who was a magicker before her and a welder of awesome, enigmatic powers. Or so they had seemed at the time anyway. If the island was a standard to hold by then her dam was only a minor peddler in the mysteries of magic, a sideshow dug in the corners of an alley to amuse the gullible and ignorant. So what did that make her?

A sham, that's what. Her mother at least had magic. She had nothing to speak off and nothing to assure her otherwise. Just a belief that was shrinking day by day that magic was within her, waiting to arise at the proper moment. But what was the proper moment? By the creed of her land she was old enough! But this wasn't Eoroleen. It was Helovia. An alien land ruled by alien means. Which made everything all the more frustrating. Leeka snorted with disdain at her own inability, swishing her tail in an aggravated manner, glad to have the tent to herself for the time being. It wasn't worth her pride to have someone question her and ask her how she felt. She wouldn't even know how to properly respond to such an inquiry other then to induce an awkward silence, stare blankly into space ( or directly into their soul) and eventually leave. Why answer to something you don't know? Lies only made things more complicated.

Another snort blasts through her nostrils. What a living legacy she was turning out to be.

Her brooding was suddenly interrupted by a sharp tearing noise as something punctured through the tarp and flinched, half shying as pain shot through her eyes when an invading beam of light fell on her face. What the heck? Shaking her head, the young appaloosa trotted out rather hastily and rounded out the entrance, her head whipping around like a seeking missile when she spotted the dark form of a unicorn. Before she knew it she had barked out a curt "Hey!" feeling rather defensive on the tent's behalf and eyeing with squinted, green eyes the telltale piece of torn tarp dangling from the strangers horn. It took a moment to realize that their were three of them...and something else. Her limbs froze, paralyzed with a fright that seemed her choked her very heart as she stared at decapitated elk skull that adorned the stallions face, fearing she had found a shadow monster from before. But he wasn't. He wasn't. Beneath the sun-bleached white Leeka saw the equine muzzle, saw his chest expand with air, places where teeth would snarl and shadows would curl. Thank Eorolee. It was only a skull, however disturbing and morbid it was. A much better alternative to the latter in any case.

Releasing her withheld breath as quietly as she could, Leeka fixed her stance, feeling rather calm, if a bit rattled, and piqued at the dark stallion. " That's the tent of the Worlds Edge. I don't think the Moon Goddess will be pleased you punched a hole in it." Her words came out a bit more forced then she meant, and may have been a bit bolder then intended, as well odd for her to say considering she was hardly a worshipper but it seemed relevant. If this tent was truly a shrine then he just defiled it, in a manner of speaking.

@[Morir]

"Talking"

Leeka

Sure enough, he'd barely even finished the thought of hightailing out of there when a voice, loud and sharp and decidedly female broke the silence. The tall stallion flinched a bit despite himself, torn between guilt, annoyance and a strange sense of regret as he turned towards her, every movement slow and deliberate.

What did you say in a situation like this? Someone else might have been the type to bow and grovel hat in hand, fully of apology and excuse, while others might have laughed and jeered and tried to cause even further destruction simply because they were caught in the act. Any other day Morir might have reacted like that too, but something about the name the snippet of a girl mentioned, the 'moon goddess' part, made him hesitate. Shuffling feet shifted weight between themselves for a moment - a very long moment, filled with indecision and scorn over his own sudden failure to find words - but eventually the gruesomely decorated stag moved the head into an impatient jerk and snorted at the speaker.

"Do I look like someone who can watch my step?" he grunted irately, giving the long, tasseled tail a tetchy snap. "In case you didn't notice, I can't exactly see." He hated having to point this out. As much as he refused to consider his condition a disability he couldn't get away from the fact that the world around him revolved around sight, the one thing he lacked. Was it his fault? No. Could he do anything about it? No. But this didn't mean he didn't resent what he lacked or would mind a bit of consideration from those around.

Feeling how hackles rose quickly at the mere thought of the subject, the stag shook his head to try and get rid of the silken strip of cloth that dangled from the horns, waving said spears dangerously close to another section of the tent wall. Having it flap around above his face was annoying even though he could neither see nor feel it, the fluttering sound it made was annoying and he wanted it gone. No matter how he tossed and flailed however, the purple cloth remained stuck where it was and he all but screamed out in frustration.

"Get this thing off of me!" he growled at the girl and barreled over before lowering the head so she'd be able to reach. He couldn't be bothered with such delicacies as please and thank you, nor did he care whether she found the grinning skull repulsive or frightening; it didn't bother him to have it on his face, why should it bug her?

@[Leeka]

She was giving the skull perhaps too much of her attention and the momentary adrendaline still coursing through her veins was making her rash and impatenit. Her bay audits twitched in turn in their own irate manner when the stranger remarked rather crossly that he couldn't see. Couldn't see hmmm? Wonder why? Well, mister numbskull, maybe that's because you've got another animals face on your own convoluting your sight! Or at least, that was what she was going to say, and boy was she going to be proud of it, but as she made to voice that thought she hesitated, biting them back on inaudible gasp when, to her horror, she understood what he really meant. For within those dark sockets of the elk skull was the same hollowness clothed in flesh. There were no eyes of his own to glare back at the young mare but it didn't take much to imagination what they may have looked like now for daring to berate him like this and be so oblivious to his plight. Shame overtook whatever fury she had circulating in her body, spreading like a soaking cold douse of water. The mare even bent her head and bowed in the fashion of her homeland in apology, bringing her knee to her maw, a gesture she realized afterward would be lost on the sightless stallion.

" I'm so sorry, I didn't realize...""she managed, feeling so feeble and so ashamed that that was the best she could come up. It was wholly inadequate, unacceptable. However, her suddenly solum mood was interrupted by a curious and alarmingly close swooshing sound and lifted her head up to find the dark stallion shaking his head, blindly, she might add, in the air, nearly swiping the dark skin of the tent again with the tips of his ebony spears. Whatever sorry feelings she was starting to have for the stranger was lost again in light of the shrines defense."But that's no excuse to go flailing around like an asphyxiated fish! You almost tore the shrine again. If that happens I don't know what sort of terms you'll be on with the Goddess and this is not the place to seek her retribution, however accidental the incident."

She didn't know anything useful about the Gods or what they were like but trying to encourage an encounter like this wasn't exactly how she wanted to go about finding out, especially about their magic. If they were anything like mortal equines they had egos and egos never took well to anything in their name to be blemished. Of course, this was all conjecture as she wasn't quite a believer in the first place, but it seemed worth it to not take risks. It wasn't helping to settle things with the elk-headed stallion all but strutting around like a beheaded chicken with a broken standard fixated on his onyx horns.


Things took a frighting turn when the irate ebon suddenly turned to her and growled, parading the skewered fabric in front of her and commanding her to rid him of his nuisance. Leeka would not be cowed, however, even if her heart beat that much faster as she gazed at the very points of the spires and ghastly smile of the elk. "Only if you calm down,"" she snapped in kind, "And let me lead you out of the crafters area. There are other shrines besides the Worlds Edge's here for the other herds and it won't do you any good to barrel into those too." The mare's expression was cross and a bit of bravado, mirroring the ebon roaned stag. "Do we have a deal?"

@[Morir]

"Talking"

Leeka

His snort was as sharp as it was derisive, and while he stilled enough to avoid slashing her eyes out as well the calm of the big stallion seemed much the quiet before a storm; every muscle within the massive bulk looked tense, the dark skin taught enough to burst should he make the slightest of reckless movement. "Oh, really!? How do you suggest I do it then, stumble around on a whim and hope I don't fall off a cliff? It's not my fault that someone erected this... shrine or whatever on the path I'm trying to walk."

If he'd had eyes they would likely have been trying to murder through stare alone, shooting daggers with a glance. As it was, Mor had to make do with words - which, all things considered, wasn't exactly a bad thing. His tongue was sharp enough, and while many might think that anyone strange enough to put a skull on their face must be a few marbles short of a full bag, he was rather intelligent - enough to hammer down the points he was trying to make at least.

While he was tempted to sock the obnoxious girl in the face and walk away, her constant mention of a goddess did have some effect on the grumpy youth. A superstitious being by nature and upbringing, he reluctantly agreed with this talkative chick about not wanting to upset whoever it was that governed the shrine in question. Having nothing but her word to go on that it even was a shrine, the offer for a truce was met with a rather sour sounding grunt and a curt nod.

"Fine" he muttered, torn between a hot desire to cuss at her and sudden curiosity about this 'crafter area' - what was that about? "What is this place anyway? I was walking along without doing anything, and before I knew the ground beneath my feet disappeared and when I tried moving again the rock was gone and replaced by grass..." It was weird as fuck and, quite honestly, it unnerved him. Perhaps if he'd been able to see... but he couldn't, and so the world around came to him through touch, taste, scent and sound - none of which were able to describe what was going on at the moment.


@[Leeka]