the Rift


[OPEN] Trash n Treasure

Africa the Starry-Eyed Posts: 727
Deceased
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 :: 6 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE
Silas :: Common Zephyr :: Roc Riven
#1
Beneath the impassibly rugged face of the easternmost mountain range, two caves (or prison cells- she was yet to learn their true purpose) had been carved. Bathed in the deep shadow of a thundery morning, the one nearest to the cascading water kept safely hidden the missing Sultana, Africa the Starry-Eyed, and had done so since the very last blizzard of Frostfall when Midas the Gallant had stolen her boldly from harm’s grip.

Light-golden eyes peered out through dense rain quietly and found the lovely soft green cloak which had been stuffed for the most part of winter inside the leather-satchel set down by the back wall of her cool, damp sanctuary. It was draped delicately across two low shrubs, spread out with care so that it might be washed well by Birdsong’s first rain and then perhaps dried in turn when the bright sun grew again fierce enough to burn away all of the clouds. Already the old desert dust had been rinsed away, and the lovely moss green hue had returned.

The one-winged mare sighed deeply, pensively, right as thunder again rumbled heavily through the bleak atmosphere above.

She stepped from the rock shelter, the mild warmth it offered, and into the cold steadily plunging rain. Even before she had crossed soggy grass to reach the cloak, her coat was quite soaked through – it was thin and patchy, sagging terribly between starving hips and to either side of her spine’s steep pitch. Her long, unkempt mane grew heavy (as did her tail), and her neck bowed feebly as it struggled to keep thin lips clear of the ground. Vain troubles had ruined her appetite and she had barely scraped through Frostfall; mentally she was ailing, though since her arrival here and the gentle grace of her brother, Africa’s outlook was improving progressively. She reached the bushes in the same moment as her steadfast companion, and together they worked to turn over the fabric.

'Doesn’t it look so much cleaner?' she asked him, eyes brightening as the water dribbling from its tapered brim turned crystal clear- it was exactly the result she had hoped for, and Silas crooned fondly before fluttering clumsily back to the cave to preen waterlogged wings. Shivering, the dappled Pegasus turned to follow.

Image | Table by Silk

December Posts: 144
Deceased atk: 3.5 | def: 7 | dam: 8
Mare :: Equine :: 16.3hh :: 6 (Frostfall) HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Carl :: Ccara Llama :: None Watermel0nBob
#2
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White December

The rain was a welcoming sight to the mare, and she embraced its assault on her alabaster coat, soaking her thick bodice to the bone and sending shivers along her spine. How the rain brought life back into her. She wasted no time in lurching forward, breaking into a gallop and working her way speedily up the hills, giving her muscles a stretch after the long frigid Frostfall. Had she know that Birdsong would be so beautiful here in the Falls, she wouldn't have been so reluctant to come in the first place. Not that she had been pressured into coming, Midas had only offered his home in the kindest gesture. To refuse would have been her loss, not his.

The damp air filled her lungs, expanding her chest momentarily as emotion flickered beneath December's steel orbs, something that was certainly rare. There were moments when she was quite a normal girl, having emotions like everyone else and expressing them without restraint. But those were her vulnerable phases. Soon her expression ceased... expressing... when the scent of another hit her smoky maw. Working her build to a halt, she jogged in place momentarily, before catching a glimpse of red and grey disappearing into a lonely cave wedged into the Fall's mountainside.

To go would certainly mean having to talk to someone. That wasn't very appealing. The ache in her side though as her curiosity gnawed into was enough to make her physically shift, and the thoughtful one took this moment to well, think. Weighing her options, the logical side of her knew that it was most likely a new herd member and she would only be setting herself up for socialization, but that curiosity begged and pleaded and nudged and prodded! With a shake of herself to remove some of the water weight off her shedding coat, she finally gave in to her temptation. She justified it her weakness by reminding herself that this someone could be trespassing, and to not make sure would be irresponsible as a herd member.

Working her way slowly up the slim pathway, White December eventually made it up to the cave entrance. To her right she found a piece of fabric laying about, it blending into the forestry with its mossy hue. Her nostrils flared to take in its scent, noting it belonged to the stranger, and took a step to the left to finally peer into the cave. There, she would find a mare much like herself, skin and bone from the looks of things, with a strange creature at her side. Not only that, but her mane and tail were aflame.

Panic flared in her eyes, and the mare dashed forward, attempting to push the slightly smaller mare out into the rain in an attempt to drench the fire. As she did so, she noticed how the flame licked at her, and when it touched her coat she felt nothing, as if it were a mere illusion. Stepping back, December looked at the flames more closely, forgetting for a moment that they were attached to a most-likely pissed of horse. Their light flickered in the reflection of her eyes, and she was almost hypnotized. It was one of those times where December forgot she was in company, and her curiosity bloomed from within. She stared for a few seconds longer, before snapping back into reality and promptly stepped back, trying to hide her embarrassment by shaking her head and tossing her white, grey tipped mane.

Looking the creature up and down once more, she didn't know how to really respond. She needed a distraction badly. Her gaze washed over the fellow mare once again, and soon an idea clicked into her mind. She worked herself past her, turning abruptly and searching the new-growing trees for any sustenance. Her nose then went to the ground, still cold from Frostfall's wrath, and searched the melting ice for any stray shrub. It took her a few good minutes, but soon the Shire found a meager pile of vegetation, and brought it back to the edge of the cavern, setting it down and nudging it closer to the fem. Flickering a steel tipped ear, she lifted her head up confidently, looking into the mare's gold eyes and finally speaking,"Eat."



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{WC: 714
Tag: Africa
OOC: Sorry that's a lot longer than your post! You don't have to match it if you can't lol.}

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Force is permitted aside from death or maiming

Africa the Starry-Eyed Posts: 727
Deceased
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 :: 6 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE
Silas :: Common Zephyr :: Roc Riven
#3
A sharp, shrill warning cry resonated obtrusively beneath mountain stone and Silas flared his gaudy plumage to draw focus away from his vulnerable bonded. The zephyr swept forward from his perch between her hips, beak clacking, warning the heavy ashen stranger who lingered and then lunged in through the prison cell’s crudely cut entrance, to mind their distance. He screeched again furiously when the other failed to slow, and as unfamiliar white hide brushed against Africa’s slim, wingless, dappled flank, he began to slow thrust of each wing-beat, star-glitter radiating in the half–light of the cave – all too quickly though, and even despite the sudden lurch of time around them, the other pulled away. Silas glowered fiercely after her, whirling back towards his bonded and alighting once more with feathers flashing pretentiously.

The one-winged mare had been so startled by the sudden ingression of the stranger that she had frozen as solidly in place as an ice-cloaked lake. It was only as steaming, foreign skin slipped away and touch was lost that trembling knees unlocked to stagger backwards to where the shadow of her haven was all the deeper. The harsh, piercing sound of the zephyr’s cry rang on in her ears, and fearful eyes hung agape as they watched the panicked mare slide back towards the entrance. The tense clasp of Silas’s powerful, pointed talons returned to her rump, and all that lay between the Starry-Eyed and her pale visitor was the dancing glow of firelight.

There seemed to be confusion, enthrallment, glazing the murky steel grey that lay hidden beneath the golden, burning reflection. Fear gave way to a rising tide of curiosity, and after only moments spent dazed, Africa’s long sooty ears swivelled again forward through tangled tendrils of oil-slick mane and flame; thoughtful sand-toned eyes wandered ahead too, though her slender body hesitated longer- she was quick to forgive, certainly, but not to forget. The larger mare stirred back to life too, tossing her slim face beneath a dull swirling forelock blurred white and grey. She glanced briefly by Silas and then finally back out into the open where rain still fell steadily; lastly moving with a lowered muzzle to sift through slush. The one-winged watched the silent stranger with growing interest, while Silas growled his discontent to the rear.

Wiry, yellowed scrub was recovered, wilting and not the least bit appetising to behold, but it was presented kindly to Africa in polite gesture and she smiled coyly and graciously in return. “Thank you,” the dappled mare offered warmly before nosing the small morsel laid down upon cool, moist earth to her front. She warded off all desire to question the mare’s first reaction and introduced herself with a naturally mellow voice instead. “I’m Africa. Nice to see the rain again, isn’t it?” Fluttering breath pressed upon the gift. Her appetite was still lost, and there was just no desire to eat – regardless of the confident instruction to do so. With another quiet smile, face lifted higher, hopeful that conversation might distract them both for now.


(I adore long posts <3)
Image | Table by Silk

December Posts: 144
Deceased atk: 3.5 | def: 7 | dam: 8
Mare :: Equine :: 16.3hh :: 6 (Frostfall) HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Carl :: Ccara Llama :: None Watermel0nBob
#4
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White December

The companion upon the mare's back was furious with her. Swooping about in attempts to assault her, pushing her back and warning her to keep away from its loved one. It had all happened too fast for her to respond, and she was left watching the creature with ruffled feathers and a glare headed in her direction because of the commotion she had caused. She didn't blame him, she would have been the same way if someone had suddenly attempted to shove her out into the freezing rain. Her water-soaked tail lashed at her hips, and she couldn't help but enjoy the goosebumps that ran along her hide. She would never grow tired of this weather, never in a million years.

Soon the woman was thanking her, looking at the minuscule pile with minor disinterest, clearly not wanting to eat it. Africa was what she introduced herself as, and December only flicked her ear in response, gaze unwavering before she too finally spoke,"White December. Don't eat it if you don't want to, it just looked like you needed nourishment. Not everyone can handle Frostfall very well." The water dripped from her tresses and pooled down her grey pointed legs, a pool filling itself around her hooves. If she didn't drive off soon she would catch a cold in no time, but how she savored the harsh temperature against her warm build. Her instincts kicked in of course, and with a slightly lowering of her head to be polite, she added off of the other one's words,"Yes. But not enough for me to keep standing in it and risk getting sick. Mind making room for me?"

She waited in place of course, not wanting to be rude and barge in, having had past experiences with it and not having been too pleased. Should Africa say yes, she would move in, making sure to keep a good distance before shaking off the wet, rolling her shoulders to remove any stiffness, and to lean softly against a cool cave wall. Looking the dapple up and down, she studied the flickering light on her hair, the small companion on her rump, and the spot where a wing should be placed. She was a Pegasus, like Midas was, but she seemed to no longer have the ability to fly. She had seen a lot of Pegasi lately who have lost their wings... literally. Her gaze returned to the small creature, eyeing the feathers and the long tail, the color of it and its small face. She had never encountered something like it before.

How the questions continued to build in her mind, and how her stubbornness fought back against the curiosity, refusing to add on to any conversation. It was the damn curiosity that got her into this mess, and now she somehow had to figure her way out of it. But she also couldn't leave the malnourished mare, not in that state, perhaps she should find some herbs in order to give her the nutrients she needed. Even so, with vegetation just returning to the Falls, it would be unlikely that she would find anything of use. She tucked that idea back away into her mind for another time, and focused on the task now; figuring out what that damn thing was. Soon enough, her curiosity prevailed and she was stepping forward slightly, looking at the creature and flaring her nostrils in an attempt to get its scent,"Pardon my rudeness, but what is your companion supposed to be exactly. That's what... he or she is correct? A companion?" She still had much to learn while she was living here.



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{WC: 608
Tag: @[Africa]
OOC: Oh boy we'll be having lots of fun then! Also please feel free to tag me, then I can see that you responded! If you want me to stop tagging you let me know!}

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Force is permitted aside from death or maiming

Africa the Starry-Eyed Posts: 727
Deceased
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 :: 6 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE
Silas :: Common Zephyr :: Roc Riven
#5
Beneath a mist-grey mask, Africa’s skin flushed red with burning embarrassment. “Goodness I’m sorry. Yes come in out of the rain.” Ears flickered uncertainly beneath their concealment of curling flame, and the one-winged was both impressed and put off by the other mare, December’s, fresh air of apparently collected, confidence. Dark knees clicked beneath her writing weight, and fire whirled above sudden jerking movement as she shuffled promptly aside to make space enough for the larger, sodden horse in her humble abode. Who was she to deny shelter in a herd she barely knew? With wings ajar to balance, Silas rode skilfully his manoeuvring bonded, but never did his cynical, violet eyes part from the brash (in his subjective opinion), pallid mare.

December shook in turn the excess rain from her pelt, and though the Starry-Eyed was not altogether spared the shower, she smiled thoughtfully and said nothing about it. As steel-grey eyes slipped from his beloved’s sickly form and rose to find him perched between her pointed hips, the star-glittered zephyr narrowed his gaze warily in response, keen to learn what threat she posed – even despite all lack of the same apprehension in the dapple grey’s mind. Silence hung about the two mares and it did naught to ease his soured mood. There were beings in Helovia who the mythical avian trusted; and less still apart from Africa, that he cared for. He thought little of her race, of the horned ones and those like this rain-soaked one; they were a vindictive, selfish, power-hungry kind of creature who he disliked immensely. Silas felt it was his born duty to defend her from them; his beloved was a vulnerable, kind-hearted soul in contrast, and seldom forgave transgression.

Caution rumbled deep within his sleek, black-feathered chest.

At last the other mare spoke, and Africa’s shy outlook brightened as her long, slim skull bounced to life; almost startled as the silence was shattered. A soft chortle slithered past lips rising to smile, and the one-winged craned her flaming crest to view the zephyr. “Forgive me, this is Silas.” Although he could not understand the tongue being used, his bonded’s warm affection surrounding his mention was unmistakable- still clacked his beak aloofly and hunched beneath his coat of gleaming obsidian plumage. He is a Roc, a night zephyr. His kin are an elusive, mythical type of bird, seen rarely and spoken about mainly as legend. Yes, we are bonded, companions, like you say...” The Starry-Eyed grinned tenderly before she turned her focus away from Silas and back to December.

“Are you new to Helovia?” she asked then curiously, presuming that her naivety was a result of that. Ordinarily she met such folk in the Threshold, but it had been many, many months since her last visit to the old pine forest- and that had been a journey from the deep south, not Hidden Falls.
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@[December], I’m so sorry this took so long. I have kids and they leech my time at varying rates >.<

December Posts: 144
Deceased atk: 3.5 | def: 7 | dam: 8
Mare :: Equine :: 16.3hh :: 6 (Frostfall) HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Carl :: Ccara Llama :: None Watermel0nBob
#6
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White December

Noticing that despite her best attempts that she had flickered wetness onto the fellow herd member, she gave an apologetic snort, taking every movement of the suspicious creature perching. Her body welcomed the warmth that soon began to seep through her bones, even though it still missed the cooler rain. Her eyes missed very little of Africa's movements, and couldn't help but be slightly amused by her brightened expression. She seemed to like having company, entirely the opposite of herself. She wouldn't judge that of course, and she patiently listened as she explained who Silas was and their relationship.

It made her wonder what it would be like to have a companion. To share a bond so deeply with another creature that should you lose them, your life would forever change. She had heard stories from other horses about how most received a companion as a gift, one that hatched from an egg or an orb and you had to raise it on your own. She didn't know how well she would do at caring for anything, although she never neglected those in need, she always felt she wasn't very good at it.

Her eyes took a glance at the flaming mare's wobbly knees and bony bodice, causing a pang of concern fill her up inside. Her face of course was blank as it had been before, and with a swish of her tail she listened politely to Africa's simple question, and looked out the entrance of the cave, the pitter patter of rain still evident,"Yes. I came here around the middle of Frostfall. Midas offered the Falls as my new home. There are many new things here to me." She took this time to look at Silas once more, face still as calm as ever as she studied him for a brief moment, before looking back to Africa.

"Might I ask why you came here? Unless you don't want to tell me, then that's fine too. We really should find you something eat though."

December wasn't normally this gentle to other horses, or anyone for that matter, but she couldn't help but see the genuine kindness in this mare, and she almost as if she were to continue with her normal brash exterior, she would break the poor dappled beauty into pieces. It was extremely hard to see the white draft in such a state, but there were always those moments where one could see the girl's heart for what it was; pure.



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{WC: 415
Tag: Africa
OOC: Oh no worries! I know how that is lol. I work with kids on a daily basis :P
Sorry for the double tag btw, and the crappy post v.v}

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Force is permitted aside from death or maiming

Africa the Starry-Eyed Posts: 727
Deceased
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 :: 6 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE
Silas :: Common Zephyr :: Roc Riven
#7
Quiet eyes followed thoughtfully as December’s gaze wandered away to the entrance to the cell as though they might allude to the thoughts hidden beneath the tight ashen mask she wore across a regal, stony face. Beyond rain still fell in torrents and she wondered vaguely if the waterfall fed pool just outside of view would burst its banks like the lake in the oasis often did in such relentless weather – they would need to find higher ground she mused on, because surely this already muddy cave would be inundated. A pensive sigh fluttered her velvet-soft nostrils and a half-smile teased twitching lips. She wondered too what Midas the Ascended was up to today.

The draft’s voice echoed as it spilled through the dry cavern sheltering their snug bodies, and it pulled the one-winged mare’s attention quickly back. Storm-grey eyes were rambling back from another glance by Silas and they soon found the soft yellow. It was always pleasant meeting the newest migrants to Helovia, she thought. It gave her opportunity hear tales from lands beyond the Threshold (a most favourite pastime), learn about foreign culture and maybe impart any knowledge they craved from the bank of experience she had well and truly accumulated. A faint, attentive smile carved through her focus and she considered the question asked of her.

“I’ve nothing to hide,” she stated quickly and perhaps a little rashly- it wasn’t entirely truth. Africa took a breath though, she had nothing to fear in these parts, and December appeared to present very little threat. “I came with Midas the Gallant also (though not at all in the same proper manner), just at the end of Frostfall. I suppose you could say I was looking to start fresh somewhere...” and there was no better place than where the golden stallion called home. She blushed suddenly, though it would have been unnoticeable beneath her pale facial-fur, and cast her eyes back to the rain.

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@[December]

Dröm Posts: 114
Hidden Account atk: 7 | def: 10.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Equine :: 14.3hh :: 5 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
baylee
#8
I heard his name, and I came. What were they saying of my brother?

There were two mares, Africa and the one I had met not a while ago. Midas had brought the Sultana of the Throat here? Why? Did he love her, or her to him? Were they siblings, friends? I came as a blur of gold and blonde, halting at the entrance of the cave, the rain still pouring heavily. Normally, I would ask who they were and why they were in a prison cell, but I wanted to know more of this Midas-Sultana situation. As I glanced them over, my happiness visibly dropped. Africa, she is gorgeous and powerful-- even without an appendage she must cherish dearly. All the stallions must love her. "Hello Sultana and Friend." I said plainly, my soft voice almost drowned out by the rain. I wondered secretly if this was jealousy. Did I like the stallion more than friends? No, that wasn't possible. I wouldn't love him... Mares probably throw themselves at him. Quickly, I push the thought out of my mind, a forced smile curving my lips upwards. "Might I enter?"

As she stood in the rain, she grew worried. If Midas left for a mare, who would she go to for advice? Who would be her friend? It was nonsense to believe I couldn't go to him for a conversation if he had a mate. I'm just overthinking things. I don't love Midas, he's a friend and that is all. I ended my train of thought on that note. My conclusion that Midas and I were just friends settled in my mind comfortably. I couldn't like him more than that, it was impossible. It was the birdsong willies, they made me crazy in love.

I glanced backwards, looking into the rain and noticing it bouncing off of a green cloak. "That's yours, right?" I asked Africa, tossing my head in the direction of the cloak-- making it clear that is what I'm talking about. The cloak was beautiful, the rain bouncing off it as it hung, getting washed. I glanced back at them, still curious about the cloak. Had she given it to the white draft? Or was it merely getting cleaned?
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December Posts: 144
Deceased atk: 3.5 | def: 7 | dam: 8
Mare :: Equine :: 16.3hh :: 6 (Frostfall) HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Carl :: Ccara Llama :: None Watermel0nBob
#9
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White December

She had been honest with her. That was always a plus. She seemed very open to conversation and revealing more about herself, along with learning more about December. She didn't know how to feel about that. Her mind searched for something to say, to respond to her simple answer, but everything seemed not worth mentioning. She supposed the conversation had come to a grinding halt. Not that she minded, conversation seemed only to be well... time consuming and wasteful in her eyes. She didn't need to say anymore though, because soon another figure had approached, her copper bodice and flaxen tresses all too familiar to the mare.

She had seen her. At the waterfall the other day. The shiver in her spine returned at the remembrance of her voice, and though this mare had meant no harm, and had actually been quite kind, something inside December curled and knotted with concern. Her relaxed posture slowly stiffened, her head lifting to show her attentiveness to Drom, who greeted Africa with a strange title, and her by the name of friend. She didn't know how to respond to that either. She expected no one to see her as... friend, nor did she really think of anyone as a friend either. If she had to pick someone, it most likely would have been Rostislav.

Her mind flashed momentarily to the stud, his eyes looking into hers calmly, and his nonchalant air that he seemed to carry. He had fascinated her, simply because he was just as fine with her being quiet as she was with him being quiet. She hadn't had that kind of company before, and she almost felt it to be refreshing. Their conversation had been rather short, one that she still remembers vividly, and then she was off, and hadn't talked to him since. She didn't know how she felt about that either.

At Drom's request, December stiffly moved to the side, quietly nodding her skull to invite the mare in, knowing that Africa wouldn't turn someone away now, even if it meant the trio would be nearly snug, thanks to the ivory mare's massive build. With a swish of her tail she was against the wall, silent and watchful of the Storyteller. What made her accent so... off putting to her? It was familiar but unfamiliar, and very uncomfortable to hear from the chestnut's lips. She didn't mean to act in such a way to Drom, but she couldn't get over the questions in her mind about her voice. She knew she had heard that accent before, and whomever had it she hadn't liked at all.

At the mention of the cloak the Shire looked up, peering out and into the rain, where she finally took note of the fabric from before. As its green coloring darkened from the rain, any dirt that was once present now vanished thanks to the falling water. Why would anyone want to wear something? It sound uncomfortable and utterly useless, not to mention it didn't seem very attractive. Though December wasn't one to judge (out loud), so she simply kept quiet, letting Africa take the lead on this one, since she seemed much better with people than she.

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{WC: 535
Tag: @[Africa] @[Dröm]
OOC: December's former owners on a breeding farm were Swedes. They were abusive, but she doesn't remember them.}

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Force is permitted aside from death or maiming

Africa the Starry-Eyed Posts: 727
Deceased
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 :: 6 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE
Silas :: Common Zephyr :: Roc Riven
#10
Drip...

Drip...

Drip...


On ear tipped forward, angled and attentive to December should the shire bless their humble shelter with any further conversation, and the other swivelled to find the trickle of water which now leaked into in from the craggy sill above the doorway. There was nothing uncomfortable about the silence that grew like dense fog around them, Africa’s weight swayed towards the wall nearby discreetly and she found rest against the cold, damp stone of the mountain. She had spent many nights alone; cowering nervously where Midas had left her once the blizzard had subsided, waiting and wondering. December’s cool, calm company seemed to dissolve the anticipation and eliminate any concern lingering about the nature of the Falls folk; Adelis had been a charming occurrence, but fickle as the weather...

Lungs pulled deeply the clammy air and were about to purge a hefty sigh when the squelch of hooves outside in the thickening mud signified the arrival of another.

Creamy eyes widened beneath the flutter of dark lashes, surveying curiously the movement as it drew near through the veil of rain; murky, saturated bronze, limp flaxen hair glued against it. I think I’ve seen her before... she mentioned privately to Silas who grumbled softly behind her. They Starry-Eyed was entertained by his reserve, and a meek smile flashed by her lips. There had been a time months ago that the Starry-Eyed had come with both Midas and Laedere from the Threshold – the bandaged Pegasus mare had been in desperate need of healing (though it quickly became apparent that the damage was permanent). As the trio had journeyed across the slippery, mossy cliffs to the Falls on that occasion, this lithe chestnut had joined them, and later another, Reizend.

Drom! Her name was Drom...

A gentle smile teased grey lips apart, revealing pale pearly teeth in a gesture that was both arm and inviting. The Starry-Eyed noticed the other’s golden expression drop as she lingered longer in the wet, like someone had forced the weight of ill-news upon her narrow shoulders and it had wounded her. There had been no such occurrence though, and quietly she glanced by December for reassurance (the ashen Equine mare grew ridged), and the newcomer’s greeting (the mention of the former title) to follow was equally disconcerting, bland, and barely anything louder than the drum of the rain around her. Africa lifted from the cave wall and straightened as Drom smiled finally, and asked for entry – who was she to refuse cover? The larger mare also shifted to allow more room (although there was very little to spare). “Of course,” she answered though a half smile and hooves shuffled further toward the rear.

Set back in the shadows where only the illumination of fire shed any light, and with the stench of soggy, steamy hide choking her lungs, the Starry-Eyed caught mention of the cloak which still lay strewn across a strip of vegetation. “It is, yes,” she murmured in response, sooty-ears resting back beneath the waltzing flame. “A good bath was in need.” Africa failed to mention that the soft fabric had been screwed up and stuffed for seasons in the leather satchel still laying somewhere beneath their three bodies – Midas had carried it for her from the rim of the Threshold and the one-winged had only moved it to pull out the cloak. Had she known to expect such numerous company, she might have tidied up appropriately.

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@[Dröm]

Dröm Posts: 114
Hidden Account atk: 7 | def: 10.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Equine :: 14.3hh :: 5 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
baylee
#11
December was quiet, unusually so. What had I done coming here? Why couldn't I have jut stayed in solitude, alone. Why did I have to feel, to desire friendship and company? Why couldn't I be happy alone? It was like part of me craved interaction. It craved a touch of warmth and love for my heart that continued to grow weary. I wondered if Helovia was truly the place for me. Was the Hidden Falls truly the place for me? My gaze fell to the floor, my smile vanishing for now. Suddenly, I felt like a stranger in my own home, as if I didn't belong. With that thought heavy on my mind, I backed up, away from the prison. I had just asked for entrance, but it's something I did not want anymore. The cool rain felt good, so I took it in. "Actually, it's okay. It looks rather cramped in there." My smile once more grazed my features, a display of politeness.

"Well, your cloak is quite beautiful, perhaps I'll get one of equal brilliance one day." I said, my beam growing wider, more radiant once the subject had switched to the cloak, but I was still curious about this whole Midas thing. She had been leading a herd! or still was? Why did Midas take her from there? Why did she leave? I wanted to leave, but I would try something first. "I remember when Midas finished this prison, he built it well." I said, admiring the structure for a moment before my gaze returned to the mares. Would speaking of him spark a reaction in her? I still couldn't rap my mind around the fact that she would come here while being a leader? Did she run from power like me? Were we more similar than anticipated? I guess I wasn't in a place to judge. Before the Hidden Falls, I had been a Princess, she had been a queen. I ran away, and I'm assuming she did too. I hadn't let anyone down, for I had only been a princess. She had been a queen, she probably let some people down, but I'm sure there was a king there to hold everything together, or perhaps another King. I had run from my family, had she? It was an eerie thought that perhaps Africa and I are very similar.

ooc: sorry, this is kinda horrible <_> @[December]
[Image: 53d6f2ea9010d]
pixel by baylee

December Posts: 144
Deceased atk: 3.5 | def: 7 | dam: 8
Mare :: Equine :: 16.3hh :: 6 (Frostfall) HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Carl :: Ccara Llama :: None Watermel0nBob
#12
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White December

Despite every attempt to seem nonchalant, both Drom and Africa picked up on her uneasiness. The way Africa seemed to look at her for an answer, as if she had one, and the defeated expression that was evident from Drom's gaze was enough to put December over the edge. She had no intentions of being rude or mean, but she couldn't get rid of the feeling in her gut whenever Drom spoke. Her accent was all too familiar, but also foreign, and the fact that she couldn't decipher what it meant drove the mare up a wall. She needed to be alone, to think this through, to understand so she would no longer act so impolite and uneasy in the presence of the Storyteller, for she had done nothing wrong. She would give up her spot, seeing that Drom suddenly refused the acceptance of entry they had given. Perhaps it was because of her attitude she had felt this way. She couldn't blame her, it wasn't like she was being nice.

Working herself back into a more solid position, she turned to Africa with a sudden eagerness to move,"I must go. I have other things that need attending to. It was a pleasure to meet you." She only hoped the two wouldn't mind, they seemed awfully focused on that cloak hanging out in the rain anyway, and she had no desire to talk about fabric with them. She'd leave them to it. Walking back out in the cold, she closed her eyes to embrace the coolness once again, it relaxing her tension that pulsed throughout her. Her skull turned to meet Drom's gaze, trying to remain as calm as possible, as she finally addressed her,"Farewell Drom. Enjoy your conversation with Africa." With that she turned, making her way back down the steep path, to return to her sanctuary of solitude, where she could relax and be at peace with her mind for just a little while.



"Speech"
Text
Thought

{WC:328
Tag: @[Africa] @[Dröm]
OOC: I'm so sorry I lost muse for this thread guys, I feel awful! So December gonna peace so you guys can finish.}

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Africa the Starry-Eyed Posts: 727
Deceased
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 :: 6 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE
Silas :: Common Zephyr :: Roc Riven
#13
Without warning, the small, bronze Storyteller reversed from the cave and curiously, quietly Africa’s eyes lifted from the dark recess of the home she had opened for the comfort of her unexpected guests. Still the rain hammered down in relentless fashion, and it surprised the dappled mare all the more that the other had chosen to be cold and wet in place of cosy in the cell. Cordial words parted from lips already stained by the fluid spilling down between the other’s fine pale, pink nostrils and she could not help the resigned sigh which rolled from her lungs. Though brief, the small trace of Drom’s discomfort had distracted the smile to ensue, and the medic could not help but wonder just what had triggered the change of heart.

Nevertheless, flaming poll bounced thoughtfully and the illumination surrounding danced beautifully.

Seconds later, there was roused movement from the other; the tall grey lady who had ventured here originally and Africa shuffled her hooves automatically as though more space might have been needed again. That was not the case however... December slipped from her amiable enough company also, finding greater comfort in the miserable weather outside with the smaller, and the Starry-Eyed’s brow crooked cautiously. Without the need for shared word, Silas was purring behind her – watching the strange proceedings with a glazed, critical eye.

“I enjoyed your company, December...” she mentioned, called out behind, hopeful that a late show of warmth might subdue any sudden flare of insecurity that had driven the thicker build to take leave. But after pausing very briefly by Drom, the paler mare vanished into the thick misty white soup. Before the one-winged mare’s focus fell again across the remaining soul, she passed a puzzled glance by her restless bonded – caves were never his preferred roost.

The Storyteller spoke again of the saturated cloak outside when all had settled again – after Africa had emerged from the dry to stand respectfully in the rain with her company. Certainly the other mare felt a far greater fondness for both the (apparent) monsoon and the cloth, than she did herself and light-golden eyes wandered thoughtfully from warm honeyed eyes towards the shrubs across which it was strewn. Drom smiled at last, and the mood lifted considerably. “Why don’t you take it with you?” Soft, melodious tone danced playfully through the rain, and the dappled sauntered away, pausing only to turn and invite the copper mare along. “Really, I have no need for clothing.”

As she arrived beside the cloak, teeth reached coolly to take its velvet rim and drag it clear of the branches. In kind gesture (and hardly considering how unpleasantly heavy the item might be in its sodden state), she spread the fabric carefully across the other’s back, stepping back quietly to admire its new owner beneath. “Perhaps after it dries, you’ll see how lovely it really is. The green’s far softer, brighter, than it is now... you know?” Trying to appear less eager than she truly was, lips began to fondle the buckle and after a considerable effort in vain, she summoned the zephyr from his rest. Silas, can you do it up please...

He came a little reluctantly and secured the cloak in place.

“There!”

But soon the conversation had switched to a more personal nature (well the thoughts spurred by the changed subject were), and wondering eyes passed across the dished face of the equine mare.

“He did...” she agreed, turning only in part to inspect the cave which had sheltered both from a wild blizzard together, many moons ago. “I have little doubt any prisoner would be more than comfortable during their stay.” Curious eyes returned though swiftly through the rain to find Drom’s eyes set soundly upon her - “What is it Drom...?” she asked quietly, both intrigued and puzzled; certain that such a random reference was the last thing on her mind. A gentle smile curled smoky grey lips apart, and she giggled softly, wanting to at least lull away the other mare’s obvious hesitation.


Image | Table by Silk

@[Dröm]


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