the Rift


[OPEN] Away From Us All

Essetia Posts: 218
Outcast atk: 5.0 | def: 8 | dam: 6.0
Mare :: Equine :: 16.3HH :: 7 HP: 64.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Romul :: Arctic Wolf :: Confusion Linds
#1
A wandering loneliness sent the moon child away from the Falls on little other than a whim. In the interest of rediscovering the beauty of Helovia Essetia meandered aimlessly from one place to the next, settling here and there before moving on with no real memory of the things she’d seen. Nothing was truly everlasting nor did it leave an impression on her empty mind no matter the many faces she’d met or the experiences she’d had. This life had proven uneventful… disdainfully so. What had she come back for, other than her father? The former King had abandoned her; he had left her an orphan dealing with the pity of eyes that gazed but could not see. Of course the filly had shunned them in favor of isolation and an eternity of hateful devotion to the idea of a traitorous sire so undeserving of mention that she had thrust his very name from her vocabulary. Though the sting of his memory still lingered on, his face had become nothing more than a shadow in the depths of her black conscious.


Essetia was not a mournful creature yet hell-bent on revenge on anyone for past mistakes, but the heaviness she carried was enough to drown the innocence she once possessed as a youth. Much of her former life had been forgotten with maturity even though the carelessness of her childhood was still missed. She and Romul had come so very far from their past but the future was not something that proffered relief. Instead it gifted them numerous cruel reminders of the things that waited for their recognition. It was time to piece the puzzle together, no matter how painful or morose it might be.

Snow was blown over the tundra creating bodies in the frost that could’ve been mistaken for reality if the mare and her companion hadn’t known any better. But they did not last long because the frozen beings danced over the swells to a silent song before dispersing into the breeze and sailing off into the distance. Essetia momently kissed the cold, bidding the ghosts farewell as their existence drifted off into the sea before becoming part of the world’s methodic rhythm. It was another loss to another day that left no scar upon her heart no an impression on her quiet mind. Everything was blank and unfeeling.

The landscape was slick beneath her wide hooves and while Romul had no trouble navigating the icy tundra, the mare would slide on occasion with the inevitable dip or rise. Her muscles worked beneath a thick winter hide that had grown darker with the season but it did little to improve upon her transition into adulthood. She had grown too fast for Romul’s liking and now that she was no longer a small girl, he feared that he would have to contend with male interests of which he felt were inferior. The mare was his and his possessiveness over her had only multiplied with age and the fact that they had both deserted Helovia for a time together and alone. The canine had been Essetia’s only protection in the wilds and she had relied on him for everything including her sanity. Whatever made the wolf feel entitled to so much before had only grown in their time unaided and essentially isolated… ultimately creating a monster of the pup.

Changed. Everything changed. Romul’s voice echoed along the hollow caverns of her mind as Essetia clambered her way across the tundra. The wolf had gone ahead of her in order to scout the way or perhaps attempt to ignore the clumsy mare as she lunged awkwardly along the ice. There was a particular cave in which she’d seen as a child that now drew her undivided interest upon exploring the Frozen Arch, but the time it was taking to find it was making it something of a chore. As the badger-faced girl huffed with impatience, she paused in order to remind Romul of where his true loyalties lie. He evaded her of course because his interest in the land was far superior to the nagging companion in which he had lately waited on, hand and foot. You devil, she remarked with humor.

Only an ominous cackle was given in response.

Smiling to herself, Essetia veered off to the left at the sight of a towering arch made of crystalline ice. It had been a while since she’d seen such majestic beauty in something other than the memory of her dead mother, but this was the very thing she’d been looking for. It was slow-going as she traversed the frozen soil on weary legs, but in time she found herself face to face with the small cave she’d discovered as a filly. It was much smaller than she’d remembered but of course everything had appeared so large and vast to her then… But of course, now nothing was as magical as it once was… not even Helovia.
Credits!


OOC| Open to all. :)

◄ Please tag Essetia in all replies!
◄ Force permitted, but no maiming or killing
◄ Pixel @ SongsOfInfinity

Erebos Posts: 474
Aurora Basin General atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1hh :: Four HP: 75.5 | Buff: DANCE
Orsino :: Plain Kitsune :: Dark Illusions & Enyo :: Common Griffon :: Draining Clutch Heather
#2

The prince, the scion, etched and sketched from icy throngs and battle hymns emblazoned the chilling walls and snowflake artifices, christened and anointed with awareness of glacial formations: he vaulted, he leaped, he sprung across vibrant, laden, deadly pathways, like a deer, like a stag, like a winter beast, chastised by the wind but ignoring its billowing warnings. Emboldened and steadfast, resolute and vibrant, his limbs carved and traced the outlines of ramparts, of fortresses, treating the thresholds of the arch like his personal playground: the outskirts of his homeland stretched and fashioned, sculpted and whittled, for his own enjoyment. He ducked beneath canopies of icicles and dared their punctures, he laughed and listened to the echo cascade and ripple through cavern walls, he scattered remnants of his lordly presence through the shadows and the light, a zest for life lined with curiosity, with corruption, with chaos. Erebos, blessed and consecrated, flamed and followed the pinnacles of pending disaster with little forethought; a child’s ignorance and bliss, incapable of constructing the concept of consequences until it bit and tore away at their seams, embarked with no purpose other than entertainment and diversions, when a scent muddled his senses, perplexed and altered his course. It was wholly unfamiliar, but laced with the murky sentiments and droves Adelric once held at their first meeting: like pine, like waterfalls, like flowers lacquered and layered into utopia, into paradise, so different, so morphed, from the reverie of his tundra, from his rimed landscape. For an instant, he ruminated, paused, shoved his little cranium towards the sky, lifted his muzzle to capture more of the warren, labyrinthine designs floating in his calculating skull. All he could gather were more questions, more inquiries; was this a friend of Adelric? Did they venture into the arches for adventure, like him? Was there another with them, one of these companions he sought for himself? The little fiend tossed his head thereafter, staring off into the distance where the inquisition built, scrambling amongst the glacial outskirts – scouting and scavenging, slinking and crawling, steadfastly resuming his movements with motivation stored and kindled.

He didn’t ponder if the stranger yearned to be left to their own devices, frolicking across caves and hunting out their motivations; too seized, too possessed, by the notion of crusades, of thrills, of escapades. Undaunted, valiant, courageous and plucky, he trimmed the trail the unknown pair had taken, stretching out small hooves across frozen murk and muck, ghosting perilous breaths in curling plumes, filtering and flickering the rebellious stead. Poseidon’s possessor pretended to hunt, acted as a predator, combing and slithering over the depths, hoping to stoke silence and quiet ramparts, enjoying the act, the part, reciting lines and syllables in his head: when sienna hide torched and rolled amidst the darkened parts of grotto entryways and stark, ivory palaces. He ceased motion, lowered his frame, stole a glance towards the companion, (a wolf - menacing hackles, brilliant fangs – he recalled the chasing, snarling, biting void, a pack hellbent on their lands – and then the destruction, the calamity, the violence and vehemence), and nearly lost the moment they wandered into another cavern. Only when they’d disappeared completely did he slip and sidle after them, reaching the aperture and listening to the cackles, the echoes, of their hallowed voices ricocheting off the barrier. The circumstances gave him a devilish scheme, and as carefully, quietly, as he could, the colt maneuvered his muzzle close to the opening, pursed his lips together in a menacing chord, an indulgent hiss, a stealthy sibilance, an asp’s breath reverberating along mysterious partitions and inner mazes, and impersonated a monster, a heathen, rasping and grating upon their door.




EREBOS
Clever got me this far
Then tricky got me in
Eye on what I'm after
I don't need another friend

Image Credits

Essetia Posts: 218
Outcast atk: 5.0 | def: 8 | dam: 6.0
Mare :: Equine :: 16.3HH :: 7 HP: 64.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Romul :: Arctic Wolf :: Confusion Linds
#3
The clatter of hooves and the click of Romul’s claws filled the cavern with unnatural sound. Both mare and companion thought little of the scuffle rising above the ebb and flow of the breeze just behind and instead wandered deeper into the hollow. It stretched onward into darkness and though light from the entrance still lit the walls, a dimming glow, the silence began to grow heavy and tense. Romul rumbled quietly at his bond mate’s shoulder and the notes echoed along the crystalline walls acting as a warning for any who lurked in the shade. His black lips were pulled away from glittering yellowed teeth and his ears were bent forward, listening. Essetia had grown accustomed to the wolf’s overprotective nature but even she felt decidedly more on edge as they meandered deeper into the frost cave.

The last time she had wandered to the Arch, Essetia had run into the cowardly Cetan and had mistaken him for a Basin unicorn. Somehow she had failed to consider that her second trip might bring more frightening results. She and Romul were strong but she also feared how easily one could conceal death in the depths of such an ominous place. She imagined there were many secrets hidden within the Arch and suddenly she was certain that she did not seek to become one of them.

With her fear filtering across her bond with Romul, the wolf’s hackles rose in preparation. The mare couldn’t pinpoint why either of them felt so unsettled but her question was soon answered when a deep, course rumbling came barreling down the cavern to greet them. The wolf had gone from wary to alert, snarling, and nearly uncontrollable. On his toes, he seemed to float above the ice awaiting his companion’s command to scout out their pursuer. Essetia had become frozen, whether in fear or otherwise, and couldn’t seem to determine the best route of action. Slowly she stepped forward, still unsure what dark creature awaited them at the only exit of the cavern. She had only one of two options and decided that either way, they would have to face their demons, no matter what horrors arose in retaliation.

Quickly, she dipped her velvety muzzle down to nudge Romul between the shoulder blades. His muscles quivered in response to the mare’s contact and while she breathed him in, a reminder of their friendship and love, Romul whimpered quietly. Essetia would never sacrifice her companion and today proved no different. Softly, she nipped at the tuft of fur at his neck- release. Without another breath, the wolf shot down the hollow, his snarling growing frantic with excitement. He lived for the hunt and had been given permission to do just that. He wasn’t sure what he would be facing just head, but once his jowls found purchase, he would hang on until the damn thing killed him.


However, when the rhythmic pounding of Romul’s wolven pads against the ice grew uneven and his yelping transformed into a panicked shriek, Essetia went racing after him. Her hooves slid along the ice at times but her stride never slowed… that is until she was met by an inky, black colt that was dangerously close to becoming either wolf meat or a launch pad as the mare tried desperately to avert her path. Romul stood wide-eyed to her right and as she skid to a shaky stop, her furious gaze turned on the unicorn colt like white fire. “Are you insane?!
Credits!

@[Erebos]

◄ Please tag Essetia in all replies!
◄ Force permitted, but no maiming or killing
◄ Pixel @ SongsOfInfinity

Erebos Posts: 474
Aurora Basin General atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1hh :: Four HP: 75.5 | Buff: DANCE
Orsino :: Plain Kitsune :: Dark Illusions & Enyo :: Common Griffon :: Draining Clutch Heather
#4

There was no particular rhyme or reason for his mischievous rapture: vivid explorations into devilish plights or misgiven triumphs, an unknown cauldron smoking and fuming from within. A careful, scrutinizing observer, the colt watched in rapt, riveted attention. An impish sensation of glee entangled its way through his frame as he caught the strangers’ reactions: the mare appeared frozen, the wolf awaiting orders, statues lined up for predatory or prey machinations. He’d only have a moment or two of amusements before they broke into fight or flight, but the sentiments were ebullient and vivacious, bobbing through his veins like a vicious little spell, and he tried to tuck his maw in between his forelegs to muffle the stream of laughter bubbling through his throat. The enjoyment was short-lived, spoiled and dismayed, however, at the swift sound of the canine approaching (and he remembered the pack of beasts wandering into their icy peaks and glacial caverns, craving blood, coveting flesh), and he began to back away from the opening of the caverns, from the thundering of the remaining occupants. Somehow the joke, the derision, the succinct, miniscule essence of diversion had rebounded and miscarried back upon the child, and he was running out of time. A more creative or experienced individual may have been capable of coasting and ghosting away from the scene, a phantom of the rocks and rubble, a wraith of the ice and snow, but the lad sorely lacked the noteworthy skills to presume anything other than a cold, chilling panic. What would they do to him, the wolf and the lady? Ensnare him deep into the dungeons? Tie and tether him to the stalactites? Tell his parents of his naughty, nefarious adventures (though – there had been others, perhaps more significant than merely wandering and making obnoxious echoes, one involving a world of sand and dunes came to mind)? So he ended up doing absolutely naught but remain, a poltergeist found and stunned, at the entrance of the runes and warrens. Now, who was the hunted?

He stared for a few tender moments at the wolf, chiseled and refined his breath to something more stately, more composed, and not hollowed granules of panicked endeavors, and even twisting his cranium to the maiden as she bounded in with ferocious glints and concerning questions. An inward struggle grappled in his young, inept frame, hesitating on whether to bury his head in the sand, apologize, make merciful claims and bestowals, or foster a brave front. While the former was an option he was sure his mother would snare, the latter was one his father would ultimately prosper (because the world adhered to him, not the other way around) – so he partook in the bestial haze, tampered and seared the trembling in his bones or the rounded edges of his nares. Erebos’ gaze narrowed, and a devilish smirk chiseled its way along his mouth, looked every bit as eager, as innocent, as juvenile, as boyish, as the world would take him for. “I don’t think so,” he responded to her query, because he certainly wasn’t insane (whatever that may be – but it didn’t sound very wonderful, brave, or malevolent), tilting his head and confirming foolhardiness with every essence of his breath. The boy ambled a little bit away from the raised hackles and the larger mare, as if predicting his escape, his liberation, from any further trials, when curiosity struck far too hard and he rambled into the peculiar horizon. “Did I scare you?”




EREBOS
Clever got me this far
Then tricky got me in
Eye on what I'm after
I don't need another friend

Image Credits

Essetia Posts: 218
Outcast atk: 5.0 | def: 8 | dam: 6.0
Mare :: Equine :: 16.3HH :: 7 HP: 64.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Romul :: Arctic Wolf :: Confusion Linds
#5

The young colt was a glaring reminder of Essetia’s own, innocent youth but that alone did not save him from her fixed gaze and sullied opinions. He wore a horn between thick brows and a small part of the mare was almost sure he was of Basin blood but nothing was ever certain in Helovia so she held her eager tongue. Romul on the other hand took to snarling softly at her shoulder. He was clearly not amused by the colt’s demeanor or his childish antics even if his companion was slightly more forgiving.


His lips pushed up and away from pearly white fangs and despite Essetia’s attempt to contain him, the low rumbling continued. The colt’s reply went without heed and finally the mare stepped forward to push her face down into Romul’s snout. He instantly quieted but the mare was still tense when her attention was returned to the decorated youngster. “I think it would be in your best interest to return your lips to teat. Obviously your mother failed to teach you proper behavior,” Essetia quipped. “Bonded or not, Romul here is a wolf. He possesses thought and drive just as you or I,” she added flatly.

When the mare had calmed enough to consider the youth with a level head she was compelled to look into radiant eyes of azure. They were defiant and most certainly male but glittered with something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on. He had shifted away from Essetia and Romul, most likely fearful of the silent commands available to the unfamiliar mare. But the mare couldn't blame him, as young as he was. Even if this was all a mere game to him, there lie many consequences for his transgressions... Should she wish it, she could indulge her wolf, let him feed on the primal instinct he was born with. Essetia was the dominant in their pack of two but that did not keep Romul from desiring the rush of the hunt, the ingrained longing for the kill.

With the canine finally under heel, the mare was free to engage her tormenter with a little more fire. “Do you think you scared us?” she questioned. “Because it is not I who balks at the first sign of distress. What’s your name?” Essetia finally softened. It was not in her nature to condemn others, even if they were perfect savages from start to finish.
Credits!


@[Erebos]
OOC| I'm sorry for this pile of rubbish.

◄ Please tag Essetia in all replies!
◄ Force permitted, but no maiming or killing
◄ Pixel @ SongsOfInfinity

Erebos Posts: 474
Aurora Basin General atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1hh :: Four HP: 75.5 | Buff: DANCE
Orsino :: Plain Kitsune :: Dark Illusions & Enyo :: Common Griffon :: Draining Clutch Heather
#6

Laments of the condescending and pious coursed and refined through the arch’s haze. The rapid scolding was expected; he looked down towards the ground, puzzled out a few of icicle shards and remnants of glacier pools as she fussed and admonished his actions. The prince had been a subject of lectures before, and presumed how to thwart most of them. He feigned shame and interest, intent on gazing towards the rime and ice until she’d finished her imperial tones and declarative statements – the wolf, however, he continued to watch from the corner of his eye – the deep rumble, the growling, the hackles were enough to keep him from truly doing anything infernal or naughty. The remark towards his dam, the wonderful, kind, benevolent Huyana, however, earned the older femme a glare, a furrowing of his brows, a polished, haughty stare as he raised his eyes to peer, sneer, against hers. A rankling of a temper sparked somewhere in his frame, coaxed and cajoled through his chest, rubble and ruin, tangled and webbed amidst a boiling, explosive tempest. Proud, defiant, and still subversive, he chiseled his response through clenched teeth and scorned lungs, defending his beloved kin and family. “Don’t insult my mother.” Simply because he hadn’t always adhered to her teachings (for while some had been grand and wise, others hadn’t sunk firmly into his psyche) didn’t mean she’d failed in her polished sagacity – and he pulsed, darkly, disdainfully, a warning of his own. Beneath the blue coat, beneath the growing muscle and bone, beneath the gallant heart and the curious, stalwart airs, drummed a merciless crescendo, barbaric and unhinged, corrupted and latent, and without his knowledge, it crept alongside his hooves, lacquering and enameling the piles of stone and snow.

But she bestowed a question, and the damning invocations faded, its master distracted and yielding to her query. For a moment, he yearned to remind her that he’d seen her run, he’d seen her flee, and that must have meant some fear, some apprehension, some anxiety amidst the silly tribulations. Maybe she was too proud, much like himself, too dignified to admit when she’d been shocked, and a little piece of him deigned to roll his eyes (he didn’t, a sense of self-preservation notched its way through his core). He’d play along, string her through bits and pieces of fabrications and lies, because for all his silly feats and stunts, he presumed she’d overreacted greatly. The Dragon’s Throat members were much more obliging than this femme full of wolf-glory and reprimands, holier-than-thou interludes and rebukes. No games, no amusements, no innocent diversions managed or made. The prince greatly preferred the king of spies and the hot sands compared to this dame. The devilish scion didn’t even bother to answer her first inquiry (naught he could have said would have salvaged the situation), his bestial shades and ruffian declarations resumed with a painted falsehood. “Ignatius. What’s yours?” Even as she softened, even as she seemingly calmed, he remained steadfast and unyielding, a miniature heathen in the making, a seditious, fledgling infidel.





EREBOS
Clever got me this far
Then tricky got me in
Eye on what I'm after
I don't need another friend

Image Credits

Essetia Posts: 218
Outcast atk: 5.0 | def: 8 | dam: 6.0
Mare :: Equine :: 16.3HH :: 7 HP: 64.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Romul :: Arctic Wolf :: Confusion Linds
#7
Defiance lingered, bloomed and danced within the eyes of mere youth. Essetia fought hard to contain the bitter words hanging upon her lips and instead turned them inward in hopes of salvaging the fragile bulb yet hidden beneath the ice and snow. The colt was clearly beyond reproach, at least in his own opinion, but that did not stop the big mare from jest, from biting words concealing insult with affection. “Then honor her now so that I might deem her attempts worthwhile,” Essetia smirked.


But the mare found only more resistance in return. The colt did possess an uncanny ability to exasperate her... She tossed her head back on a heavy sigh before fixing cold, pale eyes upon the child. Her companion had yet to settle and his rumbling only served to whittle away at Essetia’s nerves. Romul, she soothed. The predator huffed in response but complied with Essetia’s desire to see him quiet. However, he did not relax. Instead, he became a silent, brooding force that burned the bridge of friendship between mare and colt before it could be born. His emotions were unmistakable and Essetia could not deny them as they filtered through her honest spirit and valiant intentions. But she did try to thwart him for a time.


A ruthless chill stirred from within to mimic the icy walls surrounding the three and the mare nodded loosely to the colt, now Ignatius. “I’m Essetia and this is Romul,” she murmured absently. With anger and flames subdued, the mare was now able to consider the peculiar situation she’d managed to embrace. But the wolf made things harder for his companion by alluding to other heinous ideas more fitting of his predatory nature. Essetia’s thoughts were soon tainted by visions of blood and gore communicated quite vividly through her shared bond with Romul. She did try to fight them again… but to no avail. Demon no good, Romul seethed.

The mare tried to refrain from acknowledging similar sentiments but there was certainly something enigmatic about Ignatius. She imagined he would grow to be a very noble creature should he renounce such obstinate tendencies. However, Essetia couldn’t help but feel cynical toward the matter; she couldn’t believe that a youth lacking guidance and proper discipline could ever flourish or live up to her misguided expectations.

She wasn’t sure from where her concern for Ignatius had originated, but it flowered nonetheless. Perhaps her own past grievances had spurred her to care or maybe her deficient childhood had ruptured her good sense. Whatever the case, it was there. It remained a force still so young and new that Essetia could temper it easily beneath reason’s heel, but she became quite flustered by its appearance at all. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to… being tricked,” Essetia grit through her teeth. “What are you doing here anyways?
Credits!


@[Erebos]

◄ Please tag Essetia in all replies!
◄ Force permitted, but no maiming or killing
◄ Pixel @ SongsOfInfinity

Erebos Posts: 474
Aurora Basin General atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1hh :: Four HP: 75.5 | Buff: DANCE
Orsino :: Plain Kitsune :: Dark Illusions & Enyo :: Common Griffon :: Draining Clutch Heather
#8

The infernal boy stoked the embers of his incensed composition, raising his head only to listen to her proclamations, the fine, scorching wiles of his eyes a blatant decree of subversion and rebellion. His jaw clenched as she ruminated over further insults either directed at him or his dam, and while he didn’t respond to them as he did previously, he didn’t forget either (willed it into the breadth of his mind for the future, for the mare and companion of Essetia and Romul, when vengeance coiled and locked itself into further play). He didn’t even enjoy the pious smirk she laced across her features, far and above his one moment of trickery, his one acrimonious effort, and the surge in his veins, the ire in his bones, yearned to harpoon the sanctimonious snicker. The little scion didn’t, however, and was left only to stare, to glare, to seethe and smolder in the fires of his own making, throwing more and more kindling upon its infernal, hazardous proclamations. Were he older, more powerful, more potent, maybe she wouldn’t have even trifled with his pernicious existence, and the notion coaxed those ambitious desires all the more, avaricious plumes and coveted, grasping claws; because then no one would cross him for some simple child’s play, no one would bother him, no one would deign to utter derisive scorn towards his mother.

Yet, she apologized thereafter, and he narrowed his gaze to study, to examine, to poke holes into her regrets and remorse – and only discovering she was a rather frustrating creature to behold. He snorted, just once, to express his discontent, but folded the innocence back into his gaze and inclined his head in juvenile intrigue, as if expressing concern for her lack of mischief or feeling of excitement. Maybe she was just boring. Perchance she grew up without knowing the feeling of freedom, the sensation of ebullience, the coursing, vibrant pull of delight and amusement. Perhaps she spent her days with the wolf, staring at icy walls, drumming up visions she couldn’t express. Erebos, ne, Ignatiuss’ vocals rolled from his riotous lips, uncurling and uncoiling without inhibition. “You don’t play any games?” He conjured various decrees of merriment and mirth with his friends, rampaging through the frigid loam of their empire, coasting and ghosting through shadows, embarking on makeshift quests, finding inspiration in lessons, in musings, in stories and songs. The prince’s days were spent wiling away the hours, growing and developing, morphing and altering, chasing new enigmas, wandering through foreign labyrinths – and if poor Essetia, with her inability to find joviality, was a hallmark of all adults, he loathed the idea he’d eventually become one. The miniature beast almost felt sorry for her, but the notion was gone in the next instant, pushed aside and away, so that he may gnaw on his feelings of discontent instead. Nevertheless, at her next query he shrugged his shoulders, a picture of his father’s juvenile nonchalance, and gave her one of the few honest quotations coaxed from his thoughts and ideals. “Exploring.”

@[Essetia]


EREBOS
Clever got me this far
Then tricky got me in
Eye on what I'm after
I don't need another friend

Image Credits

Essetia Posts: 218
Outcast atk: 5.0 | def: 8 | dam: 6.0
Mare :: Equine :: 16.3HH :: 7 HP: 64.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Romul :: Arctic Wolf :: Confusion Linds
#9
When was the last time she’d romped carelessly through the Wilds without caution and no destination in mind? It felt as though it had been a lifetime ago that she’d known the blessings of childhood. Now, no matter how many times she tried to move forward there was something holding her back. As painful as it was to admit, Essetia wanted to hear the words- the words that would allow her release from a prison of her own making.

Her current daily routine had been perfected, if only to keep her thoughts from straying to the dark questions that threatened to consume the happy life she pretended to lead. Romul had given her comfort when it was dearly needed, but it paled in comparison to the love she’d once felt in the embrace of her mother or the gentle kiss of her father. Why had they abandoned her?


Why had they left?

A gentle sigh was coaxed from her lips as she returned her attention to Ignatius. Could she blame him for behaving like the child he was? In a way she felt ashamed at having berated him for one of the many things she had once done as a filly, but in another she was bitter and jealous of his easiness. Defiant and rebellious as he was, Ignatius had found a way to leave an impression on the world.

Essetia evaded the question of his residence for fear of the truth, but the horned colt left little to the imagination… Besides, neither of them had any real reason to share any more than basic formalities. The lives they returned to after meeting one another meant little… and Essetia wanted it to remain that way.

I used to play games,” she admitted while glancing down at Romul, who returned her attention with a devious, wolven smile. They had played many games in the Edge; though she wasn’t sure they quite measured up to Ignatius’ version of “fun.” He enjoyed scaring innocent bystanders, while Essetia was quite fond of tag or hide-and-seek with the only friend she’d ever been able to depend on. “But not anymore.


The pair had spent many long summers darting through the shade of the forest along the cliff while impatient parents found ways to apprehend them. Did Ignatius know anything of the lifestyle Essetia had become so accustomed to? She had always though the Basin (if indeed he had come from their midst) was a place of utter darkness and betrayal. But perhaps those ideas were ones painted by her elders in order to teach rambunctious youngsters to behave.

Again, Essetia’s thoughts had taken off with her.

She attempted to nod at the colt’s curt explanation for harassing her, but found little remorse in his reasoning. “All alone?” she asked more seriously. Of course she couldn’t condemn another’s parenting methods, but she certainly wouldn’t allow her children to run wild in the Arch…

But why?

She had heard so many horror stories about the Basin. “They only accepted those with a horn upon their brow,” she’d heard. But racist tendencies thrived not only in the North… In fact, now that she thought about it- it existed everywhere. It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t just, but it was real. It was bred into young hearts and nurtured throughout adolescence… Perhaps that was just the way the world was meant to be.

There was really no escaping it.
Credits!


@[Erebos] I'm so sorry, I moved and all that jazz...

◄ Please tag Essetia in all replies!
◄ Force permitted, but no maiming or killing
◄ Pixel @ SongsOfInfinity

Erebos Posts: 474
Aurora Basin General atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1hh :: Four HP: 75.5 | Buff: DANCE
Orsino :: Plain Kitsune :: Dark Illusions & Enyo :: Common Griffon :: Draining Clutch Heather
#10

As she fumbled into folds of the past, his confidence sprouted and flourished, nurtured by her indignation, uncurled and uncoiled by her admittance and confessions. He prospered under the gold and glow of irritation and ire, pieced together by the channels of menace, malice, and repose, he chose the former: galvanized by her revelations. Stoked and refined into an agent provocateur, the little beast weighted the outcome of Essetia and Romul’s experiences, puzzled and pieced together the strangled bombardments of their journeys. For him, a tiny infidel bristling and scorching on signs of adventure, on keening and honing the livelihood of his future, on foiling and stumbling about in the dark, in the light, he couldn’t fathom why she wouldn’t reach out and ensnare more diversions, more amusement, in her life. Where was her joy? Her enthusiasm? Had other notions, chances, circumstances, and junctures washed her zeal away? Or did she merely choose not to engage in skirmishes and acts of play, seething and smoldering in wasted days, bent under a serious brow, kneeling beneath a condemning proclamation? He never yearned to be thrust into such a role, forgetting pleasures and diversions for the droll thorns of adulthood and derailment: he craved power, potency, and precision, but not at the cost of his personality and commitment. His devotion was laced and woven to the innards of the Basin walls and the icy caverns, to his friends and companions marauding and conspiring alongside him, to his brethren in arms and alms. With little inhibition, because he sparked and sizzled and granted iniquity into the fathoms of his curiosity, into the deep halls of his intrigue, his princely-crown tipped and tilted, and blue eyes rambled over her features. “Why’d you stop?” What made her flee from entertainment, other than responsibility? Why abandon something that gave one joy, elation, and ebullience?

Her question lanced and harpooned another score of indignation, as if he had no right to linger near his home, still in the midst of its wonderful peaks and its unholy valleys. He was protected here, under the watchful eye of glaciers and icicles, a scion of the promised land, a young infidel reaching across the bounty of time, space, and snow. It was a part of his blood, a soul wrapped in rime and dominion, and one day he’d be able to enact and compose the elements of all these things so proudly scorching inside him. The savage, sinister wane of his eyes narrowed, a caustic, hostile gaze again, as if he were being asked and escorted off of his own premises, set off into the dusk and shadow. His voice came across as emboldened and incensed, shoulders stiffened and unyielding, a cerulean copy of his father, etched and sketched in stone. “Yes. I’m old enough.” No one told him no, no one reached across his mind and swore his destruction. He learned and he trusted, he inquired and mused. He drowned in sagacity and leaned in close to the wiles of chaos. He ventured and played, he reeled and he grasped and he coveted the many ideas and ruminations piqued and stored. He’d already wandered down the brink of sand and dunes, where cliffs met the sky, he’d already marched to the tune of meadows and thistles, and he’d already crossed lines in seas and storms. She wouldn’t tuck him away back into the Basin, not when he’d conspired and rippled across other sovereigns so many times before. She wouldn’t weaken him, she wouldn’t diminish him, and she wouldn’t scatter him like stone, leaping over rock and rubble. He was too much of a noble, too much of a beast, to be enamored into incapacity.


@[Essetia]


EREBOS
Clever got me this far
Then tricky got me in
Eye on what I'm after
I don't need another friend

Image Credits

Essetia Posts: 218
Outcast atk: 5.0 | def: 8 | dam: 6.0
Mare :: Equine :: 16.3HH :: 7 HP: 64.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Romul :: Arctic Wolf :: Confusion Linds
#11
The day that Romul had been thrust into her waiting hands had been an odd one. Essetia had been just a filly then and had known no bounds concerning life and its consequences, but that had all changed. Age had matured her and made her bitter and narrow-minded- the true meaning of a lost soul. Was that how she wanted to be remembered? Did she want to thrive in the minds of friend and foe as an impenetrable coward, unable to break free of her own misconceptions? Maybe it was time to let her memories die in order to create new and everlasting friendships to fill the void in her heart. Perhaps it was time to revive her soul and open her arms toward a new beginning. However, Essetia wasn’t quite sure where to start in this new endeavor and though she found Ignatius to be quite uncouth, he was as perfect a candidate as any.


When the mare looked down at the colt as he spoke, she did her best to hide the mounting excitement in her voice upon reply. “I’m not sure… but maybe you can show me what you like to do for fun?” she suggested breathily. She felt silly for asking and yet proud that she had asked at all. Essetia didn’t care where Ignatius had come from anymore because it was just an idea, a fleeting speculation that paled in comparison to the grand scheme of things. If she were ever going to learn to enjoy the life she’d been given, she needed to embrace it now. After all, she was tired of missed chances and lost dreams…


She certainly didn’t want to stand idle while they slipped through her fingers any longer.


The day was growing old and the weak light of the sun threatened to dip behind the mountains in the distance, but nightfall still promised a few hours of reprieve. Essetia’s legs had become quite stiff from standing in the cold and she shifted in order to wake the frozen nerves surrounding her joints. They cracked and groaned in protest, but eventually relaxed beneath the weight of circulation.


With a lull in conversation, Essetia took another moment to measure the colt’s expression. He still appeared to resent the mare for her ignorance, but she hoped to leave him with a kinder note to sing. It was true that she had lost her humility a long time ago, but at least she was trying to regain it. Responsibility and the pain of losing her family had dotted her canvas with black and it would take time to recover her innocence… but could Ignatius see that? Did it matter?

To Essetia, it was enough that she had realized her faults. It was enough that she had taken initiative to change or at least attempt to. However, this battle was something that took place internally and the mare couldn’t expect a mere child to understand it or accept it. All he knew was that he’d managed to dredge up the most unpleasant company in a matter of minutes and it would take hours to be rid of them. Even as the thought came to mind, Essetia couldn’t help the smile that followed quickly in its wake. Perhaps it was time she spared the boy her judgment and allowed him to continue on his way…

I didn’t mean to offend you. I was just curious as to what one does for fun alone in the Arch,” she assured. “I can’t remember the last time I was truly alone… at least without Romul to keep me company,” she explained more vigorously in an attempt to find equal ground. Essetia had essentially been on her own for the greater part of her life, but not entirely. The wolf had always been at her side to soothe the loneliness, even if it didn’t quite satiate her desire for companionship. The mare often wondered what true comradery felt like, because to her it was just a fleeting idea.
Credits!

@[Erebos]

◄ Please tag Essetia in all replies!
◄ Force permitted, but no maiming or killing
◄ Pixel @ SongsOfInfinity

Erebos Posts: 474
Aurora Basin General atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1hh :: Four HP: 75.5 | Buff: DANCE
Orsino :: Plain Kitsune :: Dark Illusions & Enyo :: Common Griffon :: Draining Clutch Heather
#12

Her tune altered and changed, transpired through the taut tension, and his brow arched in questioning expanse, alternating between perplexed and amused by her morphing. Had he done something to sway her away from the curt tones, had he done something to swindle her from the ashen ties of rancor and bitterness? Essetia and her wolf suddenly wanted, yearned, wished for reprieves and diversions, as though a cloak of moroseness had been shed, lifted, torn, laid out to rest in its vitriol and friction, and he openly stared for a few moments, pondering over what to do and what to say. If he were a more petulant infidel, he could have refused and relinquished her – for all her reprimands, for all her lectures, for all the acrimony and antipathy his one little bellow and earned him. He may have torn off into the swell of evening and left her with naught more than a pitiful memory, days spent mourning the loss of her whims and caprices. A little Machiavellian piece of him, sheltered and shadowed deep in the fathoms of the tiny beast, stoked and unfurled, nearly laughed and waltzed in carnivore delight (because hadn’t he managed to influence her, even if just a smidgen?), and the ample portions of him, remaining good and just and gallant, thought she deserved some token of happiness for realizing the error of her rebuking ways, rewarding her for recognizing her mistakes. He heaved a molten sigh, perhaps expressing the great, grand undertaking he’d soon be facing, straightening so the prince-like crown was rendered noble and dignified, granting her his sovereign gestures and impish favors. “I like to wander into the caves, sometimes. See if there are any undiscovered treasures.” The colt’s voice crackled like kindled fire, brewing and simmering below the surface, but never delving too far, never embarking into unfurling, unwinding flames. He didn’t tell her of the time he felt swallowed by the massive expanse of cavern and ignorance, small and fragile and weak in its unhinged, silent bellow. He didn't mention he sometimes returned to their halls and walls to ensure he no longer felt so frightened of their power and the lapse in his. “Racing across the glaciers is fun…” The vocals ran off as he stared into the distance, at the set of the sun, at the summits and valleys that would eventually call him home. Was there something an adult and a wolf would like, cherish for days to come? Erebos was entertained by simplistic venues, chasing the wind, laughing with his friends, launching crusade after crusade, exploring the depths of some unknown world, conspiring to exploit more venues and adventures. He didn’t know what she’d seen or heard, she had more years on him, more experience, more wisdom, but he certainly had more ease at the excitement to be had and held. The tiny cretin smiled for a moment, chiseling some devilish delight at his next thought, sent it pulsing back towards the femme with little forethought except dabbling in arts and enchantments, invocations and sorcery. “And practicing magic!” Segmenting his vocals away from the abrupt exuberance, he carefully chimed and cajoled back into the stately scion, extending the favor to her – to Essetia and Romul – to hasten what they sought. “What do you want to do?”


@[Essetia]


EREBOS
Clever got me this far
Then tricky got me in
Eye on what I'm after
I don't need another friend

Image Credits

Essetia Posts: 218
Outcast atk: 5.0 | def: 8 | dam: 6.0
Mare :: Equine :: 16.3HH :: 7 HP: 64.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Romul :: Arctic Wolf :: Confusion Linds
#13
Whatever gateway had been bridged between both colt and mare was a temporary one, but a tangible thing nevertheless. The Sleuth had been newly appointed and had yet to recognize the unsettling feeling within her stomach while conversing with Ignatius, but as the day grew long and the night loomed frighteningly beyond the horizon, realization dawned. It was a slow and tender embrace, a gentle kiss that spread warmth and inner feeling all throughout her bones, but it came at a price. The dark prince had finally given in to her insanity and allowed her reprieve, yet now Essetia was forced to recognize his deceit. It’s not to say that she was neither surprised nor unaware of the colt’s preference for games, but her desire to believe in his best side weakened her.

Maybe it had been wrong of her to crumble the figurative walls around her heart and trust in anyone other than herself. Surely her Father had taught her that. However, maybe it was best that she be reminded of betrayal after growing so soft in the Falls. A family had made her long for forgiveness and strength, but she’d only found disgrace in their midst. She was just as foolhardy as the child she’d thought to have outgrown… This was just another day of reckoning for the Sleuth and her wolf, another day of crimson sin to add to the only remaining margin of ivory and innocence.


Ignatius was slow in responding to her apologies, perhaps a bit thrown-off by the constant dips and rises of personality. Inside, Essetia was battling for herself and it only appeared to shock and offend those who chose to keep her in their company. This was just another lesson in which to learn from… even if it felt more like humiliation at its bitter core.

Yet, the colt had asked what interested the young Sleuth, wondered about her strange idea of fun… However, it seemed that her inability to find equal ground only made answering him that much more futile. They would do nothing more together, at least not presently. Perhaps one day they would meet again at the threshold of conflict and learn to see one another for what they truly were: criminals. It was easy enough to imagine the man Ignatius would one day become and Essetia hoped to witness the young man in all his illusory glory. Yet, the Sleuth feared it would not be imagined… she feared much worse; she feared would become the truth.

It’s getting late and I think I should return home…” the mare answered softly, a near whisper. She did not want to abandon whatever ties she’d created with the youth because they might one day come in handy, but until then she sought to preserve their civility, their friendship, if one could even call it such. However, upon moving stiff legs in order to shuffle past the boy, she paused at his side. The warmth had returned and the heat made her feel hazy as she looked down into those eyes of deep cerulean. It was then that she knew her suspicions to be confirmed. The missing piece would not be found that day, but the emptiness of his words would always remain.

Good night Ignatius… I trust you’ll find me when your games have expired and your true name has been revealed.


Whether he stood once more before her as friend or foe she was uncertain, yet… she only hoped that he would.
Credits!


@[Erebos]

◄ Please tag Essetia in all replies!
◄ Force permitted, but no maiming or killing
◄ Pixel @ SongsOfInfinity

Erebos Posts: 474
Aurora Basin General atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1hh :: Four HP: 75.5 | Buff: DANCE
Orsino :: Plain Kitsune :: Dark Illusions & Enyo :: Common Griffon :: Draining Clutch Heather
#14

The game was up before it even truly began: in a muddling, confusing turn of events, she hastened to leave, fizzling into the evening hours, turning tail at the slightest hint of entertainment and diversion. The colt stood stock still in the fading glimmers of light, brow quirked, fastened into a shade of bewilderment, incapable of discerning her mercurial efforts, sliding backwards and forwards at any given moment. He knew not all elders were like that, his sire was potent and steely in formulated responses and resolutions – but her final words left his blood running cold. She knew he’d lied, had fabricated and deceived, perhaps not something noteworthy or unforgiving, but had invented and falsified information all the same. How? The tiny heathen’s skull attempted to sort out the mess, pondering and wondering where he’d gone wrong in the bewitching, beguiling tale (had he given something away, the bare traces of a hint, unpracticed in his subterfuge and tactics? Had she been suspicious from the start, and would only truly know if he reacted?). He shivered in the barest chill, in the kindling, in the instigation, of vexation all over again, frustration boiling and unwinding from his columns all the way through his barrel and bursting in his chest, grinding amidst his teeth in a tight clenching of his jaw. There’d been no success here either, no strategic ploys, no gallivanting, no juvenile antics to be laced and lanced; Essetia had only given him the smallest morsel, then punctured a deeper wound. He waited for her to pass, saying nothing, exuding naught, just a miniature infidel lost and anointed in the crisp, twinkling dusk of beckoning twilight, presenting a mask, a rune, an enigma as she wandered back in the direction of her realm. When she began to disappear into the midst and mist, he tilted his head, angling and inclining his gaze towards her retreating back, and raised his hackles in a vicious, furious sneer. It mislaid all pretenses, it forgot all furtive notions, collecting and colliding in some ferocious promise, in a vehement haze, in a reverential credence and decree; like vengeance building blocks. Little Erebos waited a few more moments, for her to no longer linger, for a wolf to no longer waver, and polished the tides of his regal features, then marched back from whence he’d came, swinging into frozen arches and perfected summits, remembering secrets, names, and opportunities. They’d meet again, and there’d be no more capricious assaults and scolding.




EREBOS
Clever got me this far
Then tricky got me in
Eye on what I'm after
I don't need another friend

Image Credits


Forum Jump:


RPGfix Equi-venture