the Rift

[PRIVATE] Beyond the looking glass

Parelia Posts: 210
Outcast atk: 6 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.3 :: 7:: Frostfall HP: 61.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Penna :: Peregrine Falcon :: None Parelia

The day was slowly slipping from morning to afternoon. Honey eyes gazed lovingly down at her young filly before switching to her son. He was quietly wondering away, lost in his own thoughts. Upturned kissers faltered before sliding down. He seemed so lost to her, to everyone really. Did he even have any friends? She didn't think so. 'Penna will you...?' Ruffling his feathers the Falcon took wing gliding high above the trees after his bonded's first child. 'Thank you!' She smiled softly relaxing before leaning down towards her daughter. "It's time to wake up sweetheart, lets go explore." Tenderly the cremello tried to rub her muzzle against her pretty chocolate muzzle.

This would be Areli first time out of the Edge, and she wanted it to be a pretty place. As her baby woke up and did as she wanted; Parelia figured out where she wanted to go. The day was bright and warm, a beautiful day to go exploring. Then it came to her, the secret grove would be perfect! "Come one Areli I know where we're going! Stick close, but feel free to run around." She knew how important it was for foals to run and play, but she needed to keep her girl close. Mother instincts told her something wasn't quite right with her. Not mentally, but something physical. Areli just didn't seem like she could focus right, or even hear perfectly. Maybe she was just being overprotective, or hell, maybe she was crazy. Either way she wanted to find a healer to look her over, but it was just to nice of a day to worry about that right now.

The trip took a while even though the grove was close to home. The winged lady didn't want the golden dappled girl to become over tired or hungry. Her children meant everything to her, more than her herd, Ciceron, or her own life. Honey orbs watched the filly with pride. She had done such a great job walking all this way with only a few short breaks. Willows seemed to right out of nowhere as the neared the small lake. She smiled as branches tickled down her back and sides. Skin crawled excitedly itching to run, but now she needed to be next to her tiny filly. After a little while longer they reached the lake. Lowering her tender muzzle the dove sucked the cool water teal and cream tail swishing softly. Unfortunately she couldn't afford to not be on guard for long. Looking back up ears swiveled and nostrils quivered searching for any signs of danger, ready to face them head on. "Baby, if anyone shows up get behind me, ok?" Her voice was soft laced with seriousness as she lowered her dome to Areli level.

Speach Thoughts 'Penna'
Words: 462
Notes: @[Areli] @[Volterra] @[Arya] This is a glass making thread so we can trade =] Glass for foal stats =]

image credits
[Image: 54a664c1065ed][Image: 542f83afbdf08]
Please tag Parelia! Attack at anytime

Areli Posts: 82
Absent Abyss atk: 6.0 | def: 10 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.3 hh :: 3 (Birdsong) HP: 65.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Bee :: Grey Wolf :: None Shady


A gentle muzzle coaxes you out of your slumber, and you stir lazily, grunting softly at the last of your dreams as Mama wakes you up. Blinking sleepily, you look up at her light shape and swish your stubby tail at her. She looks hazier than usual today, you notice—but maybe that’s just because of the warm golden light that’s pouring down on her from above. You giggle softly to yourself at the soft glow that surrounds her like an oversize halo, thinking that she looks like you at night. For you have noticed the way your sides glow faintly in the dark, and you have spent many nights lying awake, simply staring at your own dapples, comforted by the soft blanket of light that even the darkness cannot snatch from you.

Mama makes some noises, and though you’re starting to learn some of them, her voice still sounds distant. It cuts in and out from time to time, but usually when she talks, she wants you to get up or come closer—so reluctantly, you get to your feet and stumble toward her in a drunken walk. You don’t like walking much, you’ve decided. Even though you can control these legs better now, you’ve always felt dizzy when you get up, and usually you don’t end up where you set out to go. In the weeks since you were born, you’ve never managed to walk in a straight line. Not that you know it’s abnormal, for there’s been no one to tell you so. To you, it’s all just part of the experience…and you don’t like it.

But! Walking is how you get places, and you like seeing new things. There’s so much to explore, and you’ve spent happy hours lying on your belly in the soft spring grass, inspecting the blurry shapes of bugs and snuffling about in the damp dirt. You’ve discovered that if you press your head to the earth, every place has its own thrum. Yes, most of the time, the thrum is just Mama walking around, but you like it nonetheless. It makes you feel connected to everyone else, you figure, because everyone has to touch the ground somehow, right? Evidently, you have not quite grasped the concept of flight yet.

Anyway, after a quick meal, Mama starts walking, and really, you weren’t done yet so you have no choice but to follow her. And follow her. And follow her. Is it just you, or is Mama walking way farther than she ever has before? Wordlessly, you grumble to yourself as you trail behind, clumsily avoiding several shrubs along the way…and painfully crashing into more than a few obstacles. Every time, you squeal with increasing self-pity, hoping that maybe it will alert Mama and maybe she’ll stop (and then you can take a nap again), but she presses onwards, and so must you.

You’re so busy whining that you don’t notice the scenery beginning to change until Mama finally stops walking. Even then, you don’t take note of the willows until you crash right into Mama’s back leg and tumble down into a writhing heap on the ground—that’s when you look up and see that the trees here have arms that reach down toward you instead of out towards each other. “Look!” you tell Mama, tugging at her tail and bobbing your head excitedly towards the trees. It’s one of the few words you have learned to use for yourself, but you use it enough that she probably wishes she never taught it to you. “Look!”

[Image: areli_by_moonstone_designs-d9dgh47.png]
Icon base: Bronzehalo
Please do not tag Areli except in opening posts!

Volterra the Indomitable Posts: 785
Dragon's Throat Sultan atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17'2hh :: 3 HP: 80 | Buff: SENSE
Vérzés :: Common Red Dragon :: Frost Breath & Toxic Breath & Vadir :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Shock Breath Snow


In years to come, the titanic colt will come here with innocence blighted, with lust in his blood and hunger in his heart. This is the place where lovers curl up beneath the embrace of the trees, where foals burst into life in waiting wombs and where the journey into parenthood begins in earnest. Volterra knows none of this now, however. For him, at just a season old, it is simply another place for him to explore, another place to file away in his encyclopedic memory for future reference.

Given that he is now a couple of months old, the beastling has been doing his level best to try and eat grass, just like Mother. Here in the grove, the grass is particularly thick and juicy, and even Volterra finds himself enjoying it. His heavy hooves shuffle across the ground, powerful neck arched downwards with his tail thrashing to rid himself of the flies that persecute his flanks. He feels incredibly mature doing this, because this is how Mother looks and Mother is an adult. So, then, must be Volterra. Why, he is practically a stallion! So intent is he on his grazing that he doesn't notice he is walking straight towards a tree with downward-branches instead of outwards-branches, and a hiss of surprise leaves him as the twigs tickle his back. Ears pin and he lashes out with a shrill bellow, feathered back hoof crunching into the offending branch with a crack. It flicks backwards then launches forwards again, slapping him sharply on the rump with a resolute thwack. A snort of digust pours from his nostrils as he storms away from the stupid tree, out of the other side.

It's there that he sees a duo of pegasus (what the hell is the plural of pegasus, he wonders? Pegasi? Pegasuses? Both sound dumb to the beastling, so he settles on simply pegasus) - a mare and her foal, or at least he assumes it is her foal. A filly, by the looks of things. A very excited filly, who seems thoroughly delighted at the sight of a tree. Volterra now thinks himself quite the adult, and shrivels his nose snobbishy at the sight of such childlike wonderment. Not like he'd ever been obsessed by something dumb, of course. "You never seen a tree before?" he asks the winged filly, stopping a short distance away. He looks up at her dam, wondering if she is the sort of mare who will kick away a strange foal, or whether she'll allow them to interact.

[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far  ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]

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