the Rift


[OPEN] Summers Respite

Hearth Posts: 22
Outcast atk: 4 | def: 8 | dam: 7
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16hh :: 8 (FF) HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE
Locks
#1
Hearth

That torrent storm has finally ceased and I am free again. My memories of the past few days are more fitting to be called dreams rather then memories, so strange are they, so unlike what I have known and yet not. I remember the chill sting of the rain on my skin, hurried by a howling gale that spurned from the thunderous maw of the sky, falling with the rage of a broken river that was more alike to swimming underwater then flying. I had felt the fury of storms before, knew well of their strength but even I, Hearth, bloodied traveler of the world, was at mercy this time, just as newborn orphan was at mercy to the opportunist pard who found it. Which is to say, I was to die, for what pard would ever pass the chance on a painless meal?

Below I remember the surge and thrashing of the waves as they devoured the land with ravenous hunger, consuming it all till nothing but a maddened ocean raged beneath, ever moaning, never ceasing. How those black waters lusted for my flesh, I will never forget the sight and may yet be forever be haunted by it. My great wings, my greatest strength, burdened by water and the ruthless onslaught of the wind, could not hold me however valiantly they fought for the both of us. Every stroke threatened to break my heavy bone, every muscle strained against being torn asunder when the wind caught beneath them, struggled to steer when battered from all sides to keep me from falling into the dark throat that would end me.

My thoughts were grim but not unafraid. Life is borrowed and I am not unlike any other. I know one day I'll die and I do not hold that fact in contempt. There is no point to. It is Law. But that is not to say it is wrong to fight against it, no. You are meant to. That is just the way of it, for we are from dust and must thus return to dust to renew what we have been given. This I understand, for I am Hearth, knower of the immoveable truths.

I very well had been bested by the storm, yet salvation came in the most unexpected of forms, which is where I begin to think of my memories as a dream yet I know it not to be. A monolithic structure alone, carried by trees stood against the tide and it was upon this vessel that others and I survived, biding our time till the worst had finally passed.

And now I find this world...renewed. It is an odd feeling beyond my understanding, though content I remain in not knowing the truth to its mystery for I need not to to reap its benefits. For now, I'm glad to just be alive and rest in the meadow I have found.

I lay hidden in these tall emerald reeds like a newborn foal, my legs neatly tucked beneath me and my head resting softly against my side. My mighty wings are released from their normal restraints and lay lazily outstretched beside me to bask in the glory of the sun which covers me like a hot blanket, a comfort I shamelessly enjoy in its intensity.
_________
"blahblahblah."
thoughts
@[Gull] but open!
For flame, for heart
Image Credit
  • Permission granted to harm Hearth and use magic against her, but withhold from dismemberment and death.

  • Also, please tag Hearth in Threads!

Caleb Posts: 135
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 17.1hh :: 4yo :: Orangmoon HP: 69 | Buff: NOVICE
Henrietta :: Weimaraner :: None baylee
#2
Caleb was high in the sky, dancing with the wind, flirting with clouds. His mind at ease. Steel-colored orbs flickered with excitement as he banked and dived, ascended, descended, and glided. He was built to be in the sky, it was an undeniable truth. He chortles childlessly, his mind still mostly young. He would turn two soon, so the boy would desperately hold onto his playful attitude until he would be expected to act like an adult. His laughing quiets as he begins to sink closer to the ground, noticing a dark form laying on the plush foliage. Truly, he had been enjoying himself and would've ignored the horse, but he was drawn to the idea of having someone to talk to. Living in solitude was far from pleasing, thus he had to talk to whoever he ran into whenever he could.

The green grass drew close quickly and he found himself bracing for the impact of landing. He felt his hooves move to meet the ground and his wings fold as he was planted firmly on the ground. By no means was he close to the shadowy figure. Large ears flicked backwards as he lunged forward, using the momentum of his abrupt landing, to surge towards the horse laying in the grass. A gift from his large frame, was a large gait. The distance between them was minimized with each bounding stride and within moments, he was within feet of her. Sliding to a halt, his hind hooves dig into the moist ground as he shifts his weight backwards. His wings unwrap at his sides and shoot outwards with the intent to catch the wind and halt quicker. Once he is still, large appendages hang loosely at his sides, pinions touching the grass.

He inhales sharply, his eyes shrouded with curiosity as he examines her. From her scent, it's clear she is female, however, she is built in a masculine way. Her body is lined with muscle and he wishes her to stand so he might better see her body, contours, slopes, divots, everything. He tosses his horned head, tresses dancing wildly before settling on his powerful neck. A smile claims his lips for a moment before quickly vanishing, a vaguely worried look replaces it. He attemots to shift closer to her, his head dropping marginally. His muscles clench as he tries to drop his muzzle towards her. "Are you injured?" He murmurs as he searches for injuries. Perhaps she doesn't enjoy his disregard for personal space, but it is clear he means well. Under his tough exterior is a warm soul, waiting to be noticed.

After a moment, he assumes all is well and steps away from her. His worried expression has vanished, a shy smile taking it's place for an infinitesimal amount of time before fading to a neutral expression. Still under the assumption that all is well (due to the fact that nothing seemed out of the ordinary during his up-close examination of her health), he continues. "I am Caleb," he comments, seemingly unaffected by the fact that he had just been hovering over a mare. It is true, Caleb is no creature of lust (for the most). His lips twitch into a shadow of a smile as he dips his head respectfully. Now that his concern for her health has diminished almost completely, he can take her feminine and masculine glory in all together.

He is used to the female being completely feminine, but he is still interested, on many levels, if this mare. She is stunning in many ways. Her mane and tail tumble a great length with the subtle chestnut curls any wild horse would have. Her body is dark, like his, but hued a reddish orange color. Along her neck, head, and part of her front legs, are lighter colored markings that resemble that of a tiger/zebra cross. They are the color of the embers of a fire. He hungrily steals a few more moments of looking at her before his steel orbs try to find hers.

@[Hearth] would you like a tag or no? I have no preference personally.

Hearth Posts: 22
Outcast atk: 4 | def: 8 | dam: 7
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16hh :: 8 (FF) HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE
Locks
#3
Hearth

My dreaming had been sweet nothingness, an outward bonding with the rhythm of my breathing and the hum of the wind through the grasses but is at last disturbed by a hammering in the earth, a tremor I feel through my own body, the unmistakable beat of hooves thundering over the soil. Instinct naturally breaks me from my rest, whatever my resistance, and in the haze of my waking I felt the heat of the sun vanish from my back as a shadow cast from unfurled wings overtakes me, if just for a moment.

From my side I raise my face to meet another peering down upon me, our gazes meeting fleetingly as he considered me with some worry curving the corners of his maw. He is not wrong to think that way and I forgive the youthful colt his frank invasion of my space. No doubt I am an oddity to lie like this, especially for a winged beast, for it is not wantonly that beings of my kind do so lightly. It is a risk for us, a slight towards pride even, for those who have it, to lie upon the ground so openly and vulnerable. But such was my exhaustion from my endeavor and I feel no shame in my chosen method of respite, nor could I ever be made to regret it. Besides, in truth, I was not all that harmed and could have well fled at the first signs of the colts coming if I had chose too.

His voice, so young still, chimes in my ears and in kind I chuckle faintly, putting strength then into my legs to raise my ponderous bulk well above the colt and stand beside him. " By nothing that won't mend in time easily." I say calmly and resolutely, smiling back to reassure him of my state. I do in fact bare marks from my trials with the storm and it pains me only a little that they are discernable. I could hardly expect otherwise. Among the feathering of my great wings there are a number of broken shafts, gaps that hinder the lift necessary to give me flight and won't be repaired till my next molt. Thankfully flight still comes to me easily enough. Beneath my skin there yet remains a soreness in my body and in the arms of my wings most of all, a pain which perhaps will linger for yet a few more rises of the sun and moon but I am not fretted by that fact. I know my mortal body and how it heals, knowledge all travelers’ posses. It is not the first hardship I have faced.

In another moment I learn the name of the youth and quickly I peg it to the form before me. I take comfort in being in the presence of my own kind, it beckons at the memories of older days I can no longer lavish in, but I can't withhold the surprise at being found by one so young as he. I reckon him to be near his second year at the most, right on the bridge of colt and stallion and I would be lying if I said he did not impress me. I am not a weak-kneed mare by any means, nor am I shallow enough to be wooed by appearance alone but I can appreciate beauty and strength when I see it. Already he had the promise of a formidable form. The sun shined brilliantly on the jet of his coat, the jagged white marking on his face was a fitting mask for his prideful baring and the steeliness of his eyes. My own were a cool shade such as his, save mine was of a deeper hue, and where his eyes were bare I had a pupil of ember. On his sides drooped massive wings while his brow bore two black horns, the first I've ever seen on a Pegasus before. Most notable, strangely enough, was his tail. It was leonine and tufted with feathers where my own was equine, shielded under a small length of tail feathers.

The admiration was mutual between us it seemed.

Oh, I did not miss the subtly in his gaze, young though he was, and I gave a quiet chuckle as I offered my name in return with a curt nod." Hearth is mine." I offer, ruffling my wings a bit to comfort them before making a pass at the grasses around me. I see no reason why I can't feed and have a conversation at the same time.

_______________________
"blahblahblah." Speaking
Thoughts

OOC: Tag please. It serves as a good reminder for me. Also, if you need Hearth to talk more, I'll give her a nudge.
For flame, for heart
Image Credit
  • Permission granted to harm Hearth and use magic against her, but withhold from dismemberment and death.

  • Also, please tag Hearth in Threads!

Caleb Posts: 135
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 17.1hh :: 4yo :: Orangmoon HP: 69 | Buff: NOVICE
Henrietta :: Weimaraner :: None baylee
#4
Caleb would be lying if he stated that an intimate revelation was quivering nearer and nearer. He did not desire such a relationship, and would feign hostility to be freed from ravenous gazes of hopeless romantics. In his first year of life, Caleb's father had always told him, "Don't fall for the wrong horses for the wrong reasons." At the time, the young, doe-eyed Caleb had little understanding of why this line would ever need application, but as he neared the age of two, this quote could not be more applicable. Everywhere the inky boy went, there were mares. He had rendezvoused with a few of them, but never attached himself. It was not in his nature to do such, and a frown would crease his jaw at even the idea of the steady approach of dependency in love. The yearling's heart was inhabited by darkness and shadows, tethered to dreams that left him breathless and quivering like a cowardly bitch. In a sense, the boy was damaged, fueling his desire to avoid love. With this emotion, he would have to open up, speak to whoever had caused his heart to warm. Just the thought of spilling the contents of his mind to anyone made his body rigid. One might say, love is off limits for Caleb.

His company answers his inquiry, explaining that she was not injured in a way a healer could heal. He assumed her wounds were of the mind, and his steel gaze softened for a fraction of a second. He knew how it felt to be broken, shattered. It was only out of good fortune he had been pieced together properly, back into a functional pegasus. Every once in a while, his ironclad mask would crack, revealing his true emotions. These were the days it was clear to see that he was not all that well. The girl stood up, and his gaze became neutral once more. His lids were sent a flutter as he got a serious look at her. His previous adoration was still somewhat evident, however very subtle. His gaze fell on her wings as they quivered for a moment at her sides. There were gaps in her pinions, where it was clear she was missing a few of her feathers.

He was a towering form, only inches from the height he would reach as an adult, but she had him beat. At least she did until he stood taller, allowing his head to raise slightly. She was no longer helplessly sprawled out on the lush ground, so he did not have to crouch awkwardly next to her. His body was dappled with scars, each one belonged to a different story. Each story was hideous, tragic, or unfortunate in some way. He pushed the memories of his skin being marred relentlessly as he once again refocused on the lady in front of him.

He approved of her and wanted her to like him in some harsh, defiant, wistfulness of his own. Black ears twisted forwards as he replied to her statement of injuries in a calm, mannered way. "Some do say that time heals all," he offered, eyes dancing with politeness as he continued the conversation. His gaze only left hers for brief periods of time to look at other parts of her remarkable body. She was simple, durable, and classic, yet she was marked in an unusual way. She was the first horse he had ever witnessed with such brindling. Silently, he wondered if when muscles in her thick neck tensed or flexed the lines would dance like the blazes of fire.

After a moment, she languidly dropped her velvet lips to the plush grass as a smile sparked across his lips. She was different than most, and he visibly relaxed. It was pleasing knowing she was comfortable enough to simply dive down into the blades of grass and disappear into the green lush. He decided then, that he wasn't sure if he wanted to leave her until the sky grew crimson and the sun set. Despite the fact that they had just met, he felt that it would be rude for him to disappear now, or even in minutes. It was the afternoon, so the sun would set within time and he would wait until she either asked him to leave, left herself, or the sky grew dark. He would not want to overstay his welcome.

Her name has been announced as Hearth, a fine name for her. His gaze is puncturing as he begins to speak, desperatly wanting to see her emotions. He craved to know how she felt. It was like this with everyone. He couldn't help but want to watch emotions glitter on the features of his company. Could one truly blame him? "Mighty fine name," he said huskily, his voice deep and rich as it floated from his jaw. Still, it was low and quiet, only for those in the immediate vicinity (which was only Hearth). Silence overtook them, but it was not awkward. Then again, it was a rare occurrence for the black stud to feel awkward.

He watched her eat the green blades, steady state following her movements. He made no move himself to graze, for he enjoyed watching her. Strange it was, but perhaps she would find it comforting. Others had. Bottom line, he naturally watched and observed. On some other day, he might've joined her, but not today. He expression remained neutral, revealing very little. Only the slow blinks of his lids and the careful, steady gaze offered any clue what he was thinking. It was almost as if he had taken watch over the mare, something he could not help. Everything within him always told him to guard and protect. This is what he aimed to do.

ooc: this was a kind of weird post and I feel like I lost touch with him :/ it'll go back to normal in my next post c: @[Hearth]
[Image: caleb_by_lovelyskylark-d995h4j.png]
a cold-hearted man was once a man that once cared too much.


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