the Rift


[PRIVATE] I tried to leave my heart behind.

Caneo Posts: 133
Hidden Account atk: 7.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 2.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3h :: 6 years HP: 61 | Buff: NOVICE
Ophiria :: Dragon Snake :: None kae
#1

        Something stirs in the meadow at midnight. It moves on on legs too long, too thin, to ever hold a proper weight; it moves like a creature breathed from spun glass, careful and improbable. The moonlight bathes its thin hairs in silver grandeur as shadows pool up like black water around the cloven hooves. It thinks, it had a name once -- or had several -- but perhaps they were all things made up by a fearful mind.

        Perhaps there is no place to recall the creature’s name. Perhaps there is no one alive to know him.

        His thoughts swim like hungry fish through the cool darkness. They are always nipping at his fetlocks, now. They bare sharp teeth at the back of his mind. Perhaps they want him to remember something -- who he is -- who he was supposed to be. He reminds them with a quiet frown, with the sharp flick of his naked tail, that he has never known such things. He is, as he wanders and looks at the sky, as true to the heart of himself as he can ever be.

        He is alone, and only the stars bother to see him at all.

        Though this sky, the place above Helovia, is not his native sky, he understands it now -- a little bit. He draws vague pictures with the subtle movement of his eyes. The restless momentum of his hooves falls short, and in silence he plays connect-the-dots with himself, and maps north, and thinks that once, briefly, he could have called a place there home. But home is much like family, like friends, like fairytales and all the things he has wanted but never understood how to grasp. He has left it behind -- let it go. He breathes out, and looks down, and with pale eyes drinks in the moonlit splendor of the meadow.

        It grows cold. Whispers of frost move on the night breeze and he fails to comprehend their meaning, wondering only if the kiss of cold means rain or something else. He thinks of the glittering rocks up north, of the sparse grass and the endless sky but far from those now he recalls them all like objects from a dream. He stands in knee-high grass and that, too, still rocks strange against his mind. Perhaps he is lost -- more lost than he has ever been.

        And he is lonely.

        He understands that now, and something black crawls around in his chest, leaving streaks. If only he could manage to hold on to something… If only he had answered that god in the meadow, or followed the girl with the midnight voice, or gone back to Roland and asked about being a thief -- but he did not. He disappeared instead, and now he stands stagnant as ever, slightly cold and a little concerned, wondering if perhaps this is his sole inheritance -- this loneliness.

        Perhaps it is all he was ever meant to have.

sxc.hu


@[Tandavi]

Tandavi The Fire Dancer Posts: 245
World's Edge Nurse atk: 6.5 | def: 9 | dam: 4
Mare :: Equine :: 16.1 :: 5 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Natraj :: Plain Kitsune :: Fire Charks
#2


tandavi & natraj</style>
</style>



She walks through the night, and she is unafraid.

Or so she tells herself again and again, the words a mantra chanted by saints, a pounding rhythm marching through the murk of her dismay. She does not like to be out at night; so why does she find herself here so often, a frail candle flame tossed by wind through the infinite dusk? On slender legs of crimson and gold the slight waif proceeds, dancing and swaying to the music of terror, her partner the courage she wears on her sleeve. Tenacious and certain, she must overcome, conquer the demons who play tricks on her mind; for only through defeat can she rise up victorious; in facing her foe she shall find its defeat.

Or so the girl counsels herself, denying the flutter of fear in her breast, ignoring the tautness of sinew and bone. A flicker; she jumps, heat drumming on ribs, but it is only her brother return from his hunt. The boy calls softly, his voice a relief; she lowers her neck and he touches her nose, no longer a shadow in the light which she wears. Alright? he questions, and she nods her ascent, though both parties see clearly the mask and deceit. His warm vulpine body rubs against her hock: Let's go, Natraj whispers. I smell someone near.

She looks down, uncertain, and he clarifies- Friend. The image of sunlight and the roof of the world in pushed through their bond and into her psyche. Dim memories surface: great radiance, flowers, and a boy of blue. Caneo? she asks him, and he shrugs his ascent. She remembers pale eyes behind vast, ceaseless clouds, the sound of his voice and the threat of his smile. Long legs press onward, pursuing the fox; she follows him gladly, keen to find company and respite from her fear. Grass whispers secrets and cautions of threats, trees sing of time passed and danger they've seen. None breathe, none smile, none would aid in a fight. The warmth of a body; now that would be safe.

He appears as a shadow at the rim of her sight, a still, gentle form, and she pauses, unsure. She is followed by sparks and wears light round her neck; she is obvious, visible, but he remains a mirage. Above grasses and flowers she catches his scent, the traces familiar but not quite enough.

"Caneo?"

It floats from her lips like a leaf on the breeze, question, quivering, less certain than she thought. She is aware of the danger, the possible threat- he might be a falsehood, a wolf dressed as lamb. Better to wait for the proof of his hear then to fall prey to hunger, to wraith and abyss. Beneath her legs her brother guards, a sentinel, a lion, in a world ever cruel.


image | code

o. pixel pony credit to tamme
o. permission granted to use force and magic on Tavi
o. only tag me in opening posts, please!


Caneo Posts: 133
Hidden Account atk: 7.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 2.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3h :: 6 years HP: 61 | Buff: NOVICE
Ophiria :: Dragon Snake :: None kae
#3

        Without any reason for haste, the silver creature lingers among night-blooming flowers and the pale, far-off light of the sleeping heavens. Something about starlight breathes peace into his soul; perhaps he remembers an old voice telling him night was the only safe time. Perhaps it is merely that memory of company, so fleeting and so worn with age, he treasures beyond the stories and the shards of wisdom.

        His thoughts curl, restive, and he thinks – a little bitterly – the stars are a poor substitute for the warm, fragile, terrible twisting of live flesh. When a noise across the meadow stirs into his ears, he turns to greet it with curiosity rather than fear – what should he fear now, in this place? He is a docile creature glowing gently under the eye of the harvest moon, and the figure approaching him awakens no call to action beyond a slight flicker of the ears, a quick ripple of acknowledgment in the subtle blue pools of those staring eyes.

        He knows this girl. When last they spoke, they spoke of gods and now she appears looking half divine herself, with light cradling her orange shape and spilling out onto the grass at her feet. Hers is unlike the starlight; it glows warm, orange to match her skin. With her is the kitsune, Natraj; the silver creature knows this, too. He is not certain why it comes so easily to mind; she made an impression, perhaps. He has spoken with her more than once and now he greets this newest meeting with a feeling like – like spring water bubbling up from the ground.

        “Caneo?” She says the name he gave her – his name – and he answers with a shallow nod. Something about her voice reminds him of butterfly wings, of moonlight rippling on the edges of a fractured pond. Is she afraid? She moves too slowly to be fleeing and he wonders if the fear is him somehow. He turns briefly to blink at the meadow before his gaze swings back to her. “Hello, Tandavi.” He speaks gently, still unsure. “Hello, Natraj.” Why are they here at night? Are they following the stars? Do they know their destination? He never asked – he realizes with a chill – if Tandavi has a home. Perhaps she does.

        A small, selfish part of him hopes maybe she does not.

        Rather than call attention to her fear he lowers his head a little and smiles at her. He finds it easy to do to; something about her here in the dark is warm and whimsical. “You look like a firefly,” he muses, and blinks at the bauble resting over her chest. She strikes him now as a child suited to this land, suited to magic and gods and trees and whispering grass. He wants to approach but holds himself back, waiting for the girl to come to him if she feels safe enough. He has known too well the bite of fear to push her any farther; he would rather not see her go.

sxc.hu


@[Tandavi]

Tandavi The Fire Dancer Posts: 245
World's Edge Nurse atk: 6.5 | def: 9 | dam: 4
Mare :: Equine :: 16.1 :: 5 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Natraj :: Plain Kitsune :: Fire Charks
#4


tandavi & natraj</style>
</style>

The shadow of his movement is indistinct, as hazy and uncertain as the details of his face. She watches them cautiously, trying to decipher if it truly is him, not a wraith or a trick of the light or a ruse. From beneath her hooves the kitsune creeps forth, emboldened by scent and a less phobic fear; he closes the distance with the sound of a shadow, a minuscule form in the tall meadow grass. A golden ear pursues his path, silent whispers passed between the pair: It's safe. Is it? I wouldn't lie. Come on.

She waits, uncertain, for the boy's reply, still unconvinced at her brother's quick oath.

Her name floats back on silvery words, carried gently by the midnight breeze. She releases the breath trapped beneath her fluttering heart, the flicker of a smile beginning to clear the clouds from moon-slashed eyes; she likes the sound of her name on his tongue, the way he breathes out clouds of sound. It is a happy revision, a pleasant surprise, for there is warmth to his voice, if only a shade. Still, she remembers the vacancy of their past encounter, the cautious questions and the fleeting replies. On hesitant hooves she dances toward his call, a curious moth enraptured by the moon, uncertain yet eager to find closeness, to draw the warmth from his glacier soul.

The sadness is faded from his voice, though she that thinks his eyes still glitter with ice. She watches them closely as she pauses her flight, remembering his figure doused in midday sun. The starlight, she thinks, is a far better fit; he wears well the distant glow, wraps it around narrow shoulders and drapes it down his fragile back. Where she is afraid now he seems far relaxed, and the curve of his lips draws out her light, softening fear into sanguine smiles. Quietly she soaks in the lines of his form, remembering ribs and the leonine tail.

He calls her a fierfly, and she likes the comparison, suddenly glad for the dark which hides her unexpected flush, the flicker of pleased diffidence in her eyes. It is the closest she has come to being called pretty, especially by one of the opposite sex, and the resulting confusion is pleasant and strange. She likes him, she decides, not for the first time; she will help him, she thinks, for he makes her feel safe. She doubts he would be any help in a fight, but she isn't concerned overly by this fact: the comfort of him comes from the sound of his voice, not the knot of his bulk.

Tandavi laughs with a deep alto chime; another step forward, and he's half a length away. "You look like the moon," she replies dark and bright, Natraj at her feet nodding vigorously. The motion, in part, is to make Caneo notice the newly gained leaf which bronzes his black brow; he is painfully proud of the Earth God's regard, though the girl doubts any equine would see something so small, and she is too interested in Caneo to pay her brother any mind. She asks him a question: "What were you doing?" curious for insight on this little-known friend, for answers and pieces in the puzzle of the boy. She knows well her reasons for being out in the dark, but his are a mystery, another story to help her understand the world.


image | code

o. pixel pony credit to tamme
o. permission granted to use force and magic on Tavi
o. only tag me in opening posts, please!


Caneo Posts: 133
Hidden Account atk: 7.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 2.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3h :: 6 years HP: 61 | Buff: NOVICE
Ophiria :: Dragon Snake :: None kae
#5

        Her laughter dances like low music through the dark. Whatever fear caught at her mind evaporates, and Caneo watches it go without ever knowing its source. Tandavi closes the distance between them in increments, and Caneo watches her nightlight cast its long, sharp fingers through the dark. She carries it like a beacon of truth; it shines beautifully, but obscures the moonlight, all the same. Warm golden pools glimmer in the metallic sheen of his coat when at last the girl speaks. “You look like the moon.”

        A little whoosh of air draws suddenly into his lungs; Caneo’s head jerks up and he stares, surprise written boldly across his face. He knows he is nothing like the moon; she is beautiful and ever-changing, reliable only in her inconsistency, and she hangs heavy in the sky behind him. For the briefest instant he frowns, tilts an eye back at the heavens. Then abruptly it falls over him – a joke! She must be joking; graciously he laughs, a strange high sound ringing its surprised complement to the deeper music of her voice. Possessed by mirth he ignores the kitsune, ignores his own sense of decorum, and allows himself a moment of pleasure.

        Too soon, the boy seizes silence again and collects himself. Something bright still glimmers in his eyes though, when he looks at her – appreciation – wonder. She wears gold light like a halo; her entourage of sparks looks less to him like stars and more like the hazy aura of a wildfire, reckless and unpredictable. As he collects himself, Caneo studies her face with a grave sort of dignity. “What were you doing?” she wonders aloud. She is always asking questions like that; he recalls their last meeting going much the same way, only then he was confused and now – now he stands with his mask slipping off, blue eyes bright and quite amused.

        Caneo draws in a slow breath and tilts his muzzle heavenward. Any other day he would have lied – lies are easy and fast. But now – tonight – his blood beats as if some child in the back of his mind still lives. “I was looking at the stars,” he says honestly. Perhaps it sounds like a rebuttal. Perhaps, in this world of Helovia, such a statement sounds less like I was praying and more like go away. His tail stirs quietly behind him as he searches for the words to clarify. “My grandfather told me no one can ever get lost if he knows how to talk to them.” He thinks of the old man, of ridged scars and cold eyes, of voices carrying across black water. One of his ears tilts back to paint his narrow features with the slightest frown. “He said at night, no one is ever alone.” With a sigh, the boy shakes his head, lamenting the errors of wisdom and the tragedies of the brave. It is not a story for telling, in his mind; it is not a story worth remembering, and yet it lingers in him like a wound.

        “Where I used to live, everyone was alone,” he explains. “But here...” His pale eyes fall toward Natraj, seeing less of the kitune’s truth and more the idea of it, the bond it represents. He only half understands such a thing. “You always have him, don’t you? A Time Mender in the Aurora Basin told me that.” He thinks of Lena and Imogen, and unhappily of Roland’s gentle voice. The thief had been alone, as well; had he been lonely? Caneo wishes suddenly to burn them all out of his mind. He recoils, outwardly calm, though he steps back from Tandavi’s circle of light – a single pace.

        “Were you looking for something?” he wonders. His voice rings a little colder now, a little quieter. He is not angry but he does not wish to burden her with the black things weighing down his guts. He does not wish to frighten her again; she is a daughter of the sun while he knows only moonlight and running away.

sxc.hu


@[Tandavi]

Tandavi The Fire Dancer Posts: 245
World's Edge Nurse atk: 6.5 | def: 9 | dam: 4
Mare :: Equine :: 16.1 :: 5 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Natraj :: Plain Kitsune :: Fire Charks
#6


tandavi & natraj</style>
</style>

He pulls back from her words, but it isn't an escape. He's surprised, and she's confused. Isn't this the game? He calls her a firefly, she calls him the moon, and the compliments are quiet, reflections of beauty in a natural world. Now more than ever, her words ring true: he is the moon, so distant and lovely, so fragile and lonely in the starry black sky. She can't truly see him, not all of him, not yet, and she fears that in time he might vanish again, might flicker and fade as his rare smile wanes. Her own bright eyes falter, hopefully unsure. Then he laughs, and the doubt is dispelled from her mind.

She does not think she has heard him laugh; she knows he hasn't laughed like this, high and warm in the evening air. She finds it scintillating, captivating, a reassurance that she has not done ill, and even as the silence falls her smile remains. She is growing relaxed, though the terror remains- but now it is an underlay, a constant disease she can live with, survive. The girl has shrouded herself in light, but it does not give comfort as much as his laugh, the red, warm sensation of not being alone. A part of her wishes he would laugh on forever; another is glad he has stopped, for it gives her a chance to coax mirth out again. There is vivid satisfaction in making somebody grin, and it renders her heady, and she simply wants more.

She follows his gaze as it seeks out the sky, hearing his words and filing them away. She is learning, she thinks, that he likes to observe, but distantly, cautiously, when things don't look back. They are different, yet the same: she too watches quietly, but the close and the tactile, not the far-flung and cold. Does he look for answers laced between the stars, the way she seeks her mother in the craters of the moon? Or are answers not his quarry, is he happy to study without subject in mind? Her tail lashes casually, braids dancing in the flickering light; she glances back at the silver boy and a shiver catches her by surprise, shadows shifting as her body moves, the light from her first chest shuddering, then still.

Her mother once told her that the stars could tell story, that the night sky was full of pictures if you knew how to look. Tandavi gazes back toward the heavens, unconvinced by the wisdom of her elders and his. Her soft murmur breaks into the space left by his words, and her voice is bitter, brittle and cold. "I have been alone in the night." Onyx eyes stare at the ground by his feet, focusing now on the cleft of his hooves, the grass by his hocks. She does not like the way she feels, the chill which fills spaces warm moments before. Memories of midnight with no hope for a dawn, of loneliness and loss and fear and flight; at her feet Natraj growls, reassuring and low, a promise and reminder that those times have now passed, but the damage is done and the dark closes in, vice grip of terror tightening on her heart.

She has never spoken of her time in the dark. Only Natraj knows the depth of her fear, the trials and terror and the scars which remain. Now, all at once, she wants to release, to tell to this boy the things she has seen.. but she must remain brave, must quiet her tears. Lungs inhale deeply, brow clears and neck moves; she looks back at him with the whisper of a smile, but he is looking away, his eyes on Natraj, and the moment when she may have spoken is gone, swallowed like so many others before.

The kitsune shifts at Caneo's question, displeased to be treated as though he can't hear. He makes this clear through mental whispers and a fervid gaze, startling a chuckle from his sister's tight throat. Natraj has grown cocky since the Earth gave him speech and laid his bronze mark on the sooty black brow. "He says he's right here," the girl says, dry. "And that..." just because we're together doesn't mean we're not alone. But those are her thoughts, not his, and she clears her throat gently. "He says that he is stuck with me, whether he likes it or not." Humor dances back into her voice. She chooses not to comment on his mention of the Basin, though she tastes dislike at the back of her throat. Instead she looks back at him, in time to see him recoil away.

"No." She thinks he sounds accusatory, though his face remains mild. She thinks she must have done something wrong. A million regrets fly through her mind, thoughts on the words she should not have said. Mentioning the dark. Speaking for Natraj. She wanted only to draw him out, and instead fell into her own dark pit, spiraled down into memory and despair. Her voice is cautious, and the night threatens to close upon her once again. She wants to say something which will make him warm again, wants to close the space and bask him in light. The boy is so lonely, and she wishes she could tell him he need not stay alone.

She does not move. "Why don't you gain a bond?" she asks softly, watching his eyes, hoping perhaps they will glitter again. It does not occur to her that he won't know he can. To her, it is breathing, it is the way of the world. The girl is learning, but her gaze is still thin.


image | code

o. pixel pony credit to tamme
o. permission granted to use force and magic on Tavi
o. only tag me in opening posts, please!


Caneo Posts: 133
Hidden Account atk: 7.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 2.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3h :: 6 years HP: 61 | Buff: NOVICE
Ophiria :: Dragon Snake :: None kae
#7

        Like a shadow passing overhead, her fear returns. It lingers in the quiet of her voice; when Caneo bothers to glance at her, surprised, it gleams in the inkwells of her eyes. Is it him? Has he given out too much, spoken too long, let into this new place a bad thing best left unremembered? His expression is subtle but somewhere around his eyes rests a thin white sliver of alarm. “I have been alone in the night.” He assumed and he assumed incorrectly; he blinks at her, wondering what scars she wears inside her own skin. And he wishes silently, like a promise to himself, she does not understand his pain.

        But he wishes too late; they are lost children alone under a careless sky.

        Without any way to repair the damage he caused, Caneo listens again when Tandavi speaks – this time of Natraj. Her words slip, the syllables clicking together like pebbles falling – inelegant. “He says he is stuck with me, whether he likes it or not.” She describes their bond like a chain binding two ways. It is nothing like the way Lena spoke of her kitsune; they both radiated joy, one drawing light from the other, an infinite loop. He found such a flawless system difficult to comprehend, but this... he watches the sun’s daughter quietly, and watches her dark companion. They seem to burn with light despite themselves; it warns off the dark but coldly.

        When at last she answer his question in the negative, Caneo stirs from listening and speaks. He has been slowly building up some sort of answer for her, slowly piecing together what he needs to say. And he is not certain it will be right, or even helpful, or even kind, but a sucking hollow place inside of him wishes never again to hear her speak of being alone, to understand the quiet tremor in her voice when she runs over the word. “Okay,” he says slowly, not cheerful but mild, his tone gentle and inquisitive. “I would help you look, if you were looking.” The tip of his tail twitches again, the sparse hairs dangling like loose cobwebs from its tip. “I’m good at finding places in the dark.”

        Uncertain, the boy peers at the meadow and wonders if maybe he’s doing this wrong. He is not warm enough; he is too honest, and full of too many holes. One ear tilts delicately to catch Tandavi’s next question, and surprised again his head snaps toward her, his eyes wide and questioning. Me? he says without saying. He cannot imagine himself beside a fox, or beside anything. He cannot imagine a single creature living inside his head, inside his soul – cannot imagine himself torturing another thing with such a life. But the seed is planted; he blinks at Natraj, and frowns. “How?” he murmurs. And the other question, the deeper one, lingers unspoken in the back of his throat.

        What kind of creature would want me?

sxc.hu

Tandavi The Fire Dancer Posts: 245
World's Edge Nurse atk: 6.5 | def: 9 | dam: 4
Mare :: Equine :: 16.1 :: 5 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Natraj :: Plain Kitsune :: Fire Charks
#8


tandavi & natraj</style>
</style>

He softens so slightly, though he does not warm, and she wonders why he insists on staying so far away, silently wishes he would come close. She hides her fear of isolation in her desire to rescue him, but her facade is slipping, her gaze growing dim, and the fear of the night gnaws corners of her mind, smoky fingers of black reaching into her heart. Alone, she thinks, we are always alone; and a small part of her shudders and cracks, though she does not look closely enough to allow it to break.

Mournful, hopeful, falling into herself, the girl's reprieve is suddenly shattered as pain arcs graceless in the nerves of her hock. Onyx eyes blink, meet golden gaze; the kitsune moves like a shadow on the wind, pressing dark slight body against her bright foreleg, the heat of his affection dancing between trio tails. Never alone, he tells her again, licking the spot where his teeth found her flesh. His voice is gentle but firm in her mind, bright and uplifting, a light in the dark, and she feels a smile return to her lips, feels the fear ebb slightly from her throat. Never alone, she agrees, lowering her head to caress his large ears, blowing in them softly and making him squeal. You'll always be my brother. We're always stuck together.

Caneo's words break the space between them, catching the copper child and taking her by surprise. She looks up at him through lashes of coal, tilting her head without raising her neck. His offer of help is unexpected and sweet; she knows not what to make of it, or how to react. A soft bemused smile creeps onto her face. She nods, silent, white dipped forelock splaying across confused black eyes. "I'm afraid of the dark," she confesses, and suddenly her mind feels light, relieved. Have I told no one that? No one but me. The kitsune licks the rim of her nose before bounding away to sit at Caneo's feet. The girl does not rise, but her voice escapes, tentative and midnight and suddenly shy. "But I feel braver here, next to a friend." She wonders if this is what he needs to hear, if this will bring her closer to unlocking his trust. Will it make him open, to hear her say friend? Will he then understand he need not be alone?

She does not admit that this is what she needs, that her heart is in her throat and her head is ablaze as she wonders and waits for him to respond, to confirm or deny that she has not made a mistake.

Sloping bronze shoulders straighten at last, fiery chestnut coat dancing as musculature shifts and she raises to his height, a smile returned to the moon-shattered face. Her brother sits happy at silver cloven hooves; he has none of her fear, no doubt in his mind, and his relaxed face is mildly smug, as though to confirm that yes, the boy belongs to them now. "I... don't really know," her low alto confesses in response to his frown. She has never been sure how she did gain Natraj; he is her brother, and there is really nothing more. But her fateful night in Ampere's company shed some light onto the many ways in which one might bond, and the Earth God's many words ring strong in her ears. "They can be earned, I think, from the Gods." She fades off, thoughtful, wondering gaze shifting to the sky. She thinks of the Gods, for she's met all but one... and she thinks of the Moon, of her mother, and suddenly aches to know where she is, yearns for the answers to an existence unexplained.

@[Caneo]


image | code

o. pixel pony credit to tamme
o. permission granted to use force and magic on Tavi
o. only tag me in opening posts, please!


Caneo Posts: 133
Hidden Account atk: 7.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 2.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3h :: 6 years HP: 61 | Buff: NOVICE
Ophiria :: Dragon Snake :: None kae
#9

        And maybe he was naïve in hoping to help the girl with the smokey voice. Maybe he overestimates himself still, assuming he is strong enough or wise enough to give her aid, at all. He watches sorrow and confusion dance behind the darkness of her eyes and he knows of no way to cure such things. It seems to be the nature of life; it seems all creatures are broken in their own way, so sharp they scratch those near them accidentally, catch their own hopes on the jagged edges.

        She smiles, though. “I’m afraid of the dark.” Surprised, he blinks, but wisely swallows the why? crawling up the back of his throat. She was born to a different world; she knows only danger in the muted light of the stars. Tandavi keeps talking though and Caneo listens, his ears twitching in answer to the next statement. A friend. He hasn’t had one in a long time. He smiles, too, and it is a soft expression, almost childish, and somewhat lonely. He isn’t certain he believes her, yet, but she is kind, and so fragile. “There’s nothing to be scared of,” he says quietly, hoping the words reassure and don’t sound condescending. “If you want, you can stay close to me. Where I used to live, we only walked when it was dark. And friends stayed together as long as they could.” He feels a bit strange sharing that, but his time in Helovia renders the past ever more distant, like a strange nightmare or a fairytale. He no longer fears it when his mind is clear.

        Caneo blinks at Natraj briefly, studying the kitsune again in the brief time between Tandavi’s words. The creature intrigues him; it seems to be its own self, separate from Tandavi, and yet it does not speak and lingers ever close to her. Caneo blinks again and looks away, his attention drawn by the girl’s words, though she gives him little hope, at first. Her answer reminds him of Lena’s; both have managed to attract companions by some virtue he lacks, or by luck – which he also lacks. The tip of Caneo’s tail flicks, betraying minute frustration, or maybe just the turning of his mind. He sighs and peers into the dark.

        “They can be earned, I think,” Tandavi says. One of the silver boy’s ears turns to catch her voice. “From the gods.” And what use was the burning man, to him? What use is a god to a creature born ignorant of law, of safety? Caneo mulls this over for a moment, his face delicately withdrawn. “There are more gods,” he wonders slowly, “than the sun?” A thought occurs, and his ears prick up. “Does the moon have a god?”

sxc.hu

Tandavi The Fire Dancer Posts: 245
World's Edge Nurse atk: 6.5 | def: 9 | dam: 4
Mare :: Equine :: 16.1 :: 5 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Natraj :: Plain Kitsune :: Fire Charks
#10


tandavi & natraj</style>
</style>

The crescent cut face breaks out into sunshine, glowing with a brief and brilliant light. Her smile is shy, radiant and fleet; it echoes his and compounds it, more vibrant than gentle, more eager than soft. It quickly fades, dissipates and spreads to the corners of her eyes, lingers like sunspots at the curve of her lip. Even when he promises there is nothing to fear her bright eyes grow dim but do not darken; it is a lie, but a sweet one, lacking the bitterness and bile which usually chases doses of cold deceit. There is much to be afraid of, but the boy does not know, and she knows that she must do all in her power to protect his gentle heart from that shattering fear.

She listens intently to his voice, black eyes serious as she glances across his frail shoulders, follows the lines to the infant horn which peeks so shyly from behind thin silver strands, and drifts away to look back to the moon, now further progressed on its journey across the skies. She wants to ask him more of her past, but in a rare show of sensitivity stills her tongue and does not question. There is time, after all, for her to learn his stories. They are friends now, a promise given and returned; friends stay together bounces through her mind, and she refuses to look at the doubt which gnaws it, the nagging memories of those who are gone and the abysmal absences left in their wake. Is the slender boy destined to disappear, too, or will he truly remain if she only keeps him close?

Unconsciously she takes a step, shifting and swaying minutely toward him, light dancing playfully from the pendant on her neck. Ebony eyes return to his face; she nods, curious, and watches his eyes, waits for the click of a question to form. When it does she regrets she did not see it coming; the boy is a moonchild as she is the sun, a denizen of darkness bathed in pale starlight. "Yes," she says slowly, and pauses, unsure. Should she speak of her mother, of the Moon and their bond? The Moon is her family's, the goddess of ancestors, the light in a world of perpetual night; she thinks Caneo might like those stories, but is not sure she is ready to tell them, ready to confess to all she has lost.

Natraj rolls at the boy's feet, sending up a spark of flame to illuminate his narrow chest. Gold eyes glitter with gleeful mischief; Story time! he teases, staring at his silent sister, small back wiggling against the overgrown ground. Copper ear dips back into the golden mane; she looks at Caneo and he makes her bold, and before she can second guess she begins to speak. "She's a goddess," murmurs the alto hum, "And I only met her once a long time ago, but my family... we lived in her lands, before the darkness." She pauses and swallows, shutting her eyes against encroaching fear, aware once again of the nighttime around her. We're safe, says her brother, and she forces a smile.

"We live with the Sun now," she tells him softly, willing the panic to flutter away. "But where my mother was born, and my aunt and my uncles, the sun never rose. So Mother used to say that we're children of the moon." She thinks that the boy would have liked it there, that he would fit in well with her moonlit family... better, perhaps, than she ever had. Where did you go? When will you come back?


image | code

o. pixel pony credit to tamme
o. permission granted to use force and magic on Tavi
o. only tag me in opening posts, please!


Caneo Posts: 133
Hidden Account atk: 7.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 2.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3h :: 6 years HP: 61 | Buff: NOVICE
Ophiria :: Dragon Snake :: None kae
#11

        She watches him. Her eyes crawl like warm shivers over the velvet skin, lingering but never quite a touch. Still, sunlight brushes her features again, however gently. It springs up somewhere in him, too: a hidden warmth, sparks dancing through a weary heart. He stands quietly as she approaches – so minute the distance closed – but he acknowledges this fact with silent approval. They are friends. They will stay together, now. Perhaps he might teach her about the stars, and everything else.

        Caneo’s attention flickers briefly toward Natraj when the kitsune produces fire. Muscle tightens under silver skin unconsciously, preparing him to pull away, but only a shiver runs through him as he masters himself – the small one is no danger. It must not be, if Tandavi is his friend... Slowly, his long face cocks toward Natraj, and a small, indignant snort breaks his nose. It might be like laughter, except Caneo’s is usually silver and fine. He glances up once more at the girl, his interest hanging keenly on the dusky edges of her voice.

        “She’s a goddess.” He nods in response to this – of course. He knows already, the myth in his mind a far cry from the lady of this land but similar, perhaps, in more ways than he might guess. And Tandavi continues to speak of a family, of a land cradled in darkness, and Caneo wonders just how much of it is true. His new friend speaks solemnly, but perhaps she speaks in metaphor – or parrots words once given to her. His weight shifts uneasily as Tandavi hesitates, some powerful emotion crawling just beneath her skin, crawling down her throat. She looks strange, her face half shadowed by her amulet. She looks half god, herself.

        “We live with the sun now,” she says, and Caneo’s ears twist back just slightly in distaste. He far prefers the sound of the old land, the children of the moon. His people had a similar name for themselves, though they mapped the stars and knew the sun far too well. “Grandfather used to say we need the sun,” he answers, his interest gone from the words, distaste lingering still in the back of his throat, “the same way we need pain.”. Rather than elaborate he falls silent, his pale gaze sweeping the meadow. I would like to see your mother’s land, he thinks, but recalling the expression on the girl’s face, Caneo swallows these words. Perhaps it is the mother she recoils from – or just the dark. He cannot guess. He is too polite, now, to go prodding old wounds. He changes the subject instead.

        “I want to find the Moon Goddess,” he says. He is resolute, some sliver of steel glinting behind the words. It has remained hidden up to now, where it only breaks the surface. As if he might climb the treetops to the sky, he steps forward, his tail wringing, and peers at that pale sliver above them both. “I want to ask her things.” Sharply, one eye cocks back at the sunlit girl, so different from himself, so warm, and yet perhaps as fragile. “Do you know where to look?”

sxc.hu

Tandavi The Fire Dancer Posts: 245
World's Edge Nurse atk: 6.5 | def: 9 | dam: 4
Mare :: Equine :: 16.1 :: 5 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Natraj :: Plain Kitsune :: Fire Charks
#12


tandavi & natraj</style>
</style>

He is repulsed, somehow, by the sun, an idea which confuses her, plays against her views of the world. She has known so many who prefer the night (indeed, all of her known family were denizens of the dark), and though she has never understood this inclination, there was always a reassurance that the sun, too, had its place in their lives. Caneo's declaration equating the light of her God to necessary pain stings the girl, pushing her back, the shadows of steps taken fading into a distant sigh.

White-gold tail flicks impatiently, eyes unhappy as she regards his face- but he does not look back at her, does not offer consolation of humor or distress. She wants to demand an answer, why?, to make him explain his distaste for the day; to save him, change him, teach him to love all the things she holds dear. But you can't, the fox's voice whispers sagely in her head. Can't change. Don't push. Sun mean, anyway. More things not to think about, more questions not to ask- she frowns, and sighs, and shakes her head, forelock dancing before closed black eyes.

He brings her back from the brink of the void, the chill in his voice sparking some quiet fire. She looks at him and sees something new, a hardened steel in the ice blue eyes, a firm resolve in the pit of his youth. Where is the frail, lonely boy? Is this the man she has drawn from his depths? "I have questions, too," she murmurs soft, not striding away as he makes his approach, refusing to flinch in the weight of his mettle, letting her own glow bounce off his cold surface. A nod at his question, though uncertainty lingers. Should she send him alone? Is she ready to face the moon? Friends stay together, Caneo had said. She pauses, then speaks again, stumbling slightly in a deep alto song, onyx eyes flashing with speculative flame. "I'll take you there, Chandrakant," says the child of fire. Then before he can answer she spins toward the south, fleet-footed brother leading the way.


image | code

o. pixel pony credit to tamme
o. permission granted to use force and magic on Tavi
o. only tag me in opening posts, please!



Forum Jump:


RPGfix Equi-venture