the Rift


[JUDGED] Buried by the sands of the hourglass

Maren the Crownless Posts: 264
Outcast atk: 5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.0 :: 6 HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE
Mr. Teatime :: Siberian Tiger :: Sing Yewrezz
#3


M A R E N


"We've been here forever
And here's the frozen proof
I could scream forever
We are the poisoned youth."

__________________________

Pearl white feathered wings quietly swayed in the wind as her eyes looked up and spotted a silhouette of a dragon. She had not yet met anyone here that was bonded to one of those.

"Astute,"

A chuckle left her throat and she smiled into the breeze. She could now only wait for the frost-skinned to say the same about her. She felt as one of the crowd as much as she felt needed. No one wanted to cry their hearts out to a disciple anymore, not these days. Although they should be crying, since those idiots above just let loose an outdated moon goddes. I cry about it. Because it was so stupid. But alas. Living with her must have made their upper world an almighty hell, so she had already forgiven. As was also her job.

Relieved that she finally managed to start on a good foot with someone for once, she listened carefully to the mare's soft spoken voice as she spoke. Her eyebrows rose and she couldn't help her smile change into a secretive sneer as her head tilted. Unnoticed by herself, her wings had lifted themselves up a tad, awoken from their depressed, sweltering state. Hello, we've got a big-shot over here. It was simply... weirdly exciting to be talking to the leading mare that would not let any of her kind into the territory of their herdlands - which did bother her somehow.

Of all the mare's that she had not managed to start on a good foot with, she was glad Ophelia was not one of them. So with the swelling sun, covered by a thin layer of golden haze, in the background, the tigermare performed a short bow, ends of her lightweight ivory mane pulled up by the wind and pale wings stretched out parallel to the horizon behind. "Well then, Forsaken Ophelia, Lady of the Aurora Basin, it is I, Maren, disciple of the Throat, who is truly thrilled to meet you." Her velvet voice embracing her exotic appearance. She looked up again at this frost-skinned mare who's identity had been a unusual surprise to uncover.

Having refound comfort in a static stance, she glanced at the Forsaken from the side. "Yes, these times appear to have been difficult ones. But I have faith that the Gods will look down with judicious eyes." Meaning that she wouldn't have to worry, his family would do that for her. The gesture was nice, though, for she seemed a nice mare. Probably a fair leader in their own realm, for principles differ with each culture. That she had learned on her travels, so Maren would not be the one to disapprove of that, discourage or look down on it. No, she found it massively interesting and welcomed the knowledge in her life.

She did ask what she could do for me. But somehow she did not thought that granting her a peak beyond that curtain of theirs would be something she could lay on the table, so she simply chuckled again, and then sighted, eyes remembering the depressing thoughts of earlier and reflecting it at the world. Because, however exciting, her real life did not at all spin around the Basin, was just a mere corner in that endless web of hers. "I don't know what you can do for me." The corners of her mouth had stiffened under thoughtful eyes. Was was probably so much to be done for her, but that meant for her to get creative and she needed inspiration for that, which the heat denied her. So for seconds it was silent. Then, once again, she glanced at Ophelia, taking a deep breath and began carefully. "I haven't really fought in over a year... And I have seen some other horses do it, spar each other for training purposes." She threw a quick glance in the direction of the oasis, as if able to watch a memory. "And you know..." Having refocused on the present, Maren rolled the muscles under her alabaster hide, but still with caution in the deeper layers of her voice: "If our herds will ever turn to war again, I want it to be the blood of all but my own kin flowing." I want to be of use. And I want you to help me learn to protect me against you. She knew that she wouldn't stand a chance in a full fight, though. She was, after all, chosen to be Lady of the Basin for a reason. But that would not matter, for she loved a good rush of adrenaline in the morning, and this would certainly do it. "So what do you say, Ophelia? Would you like to twist and twirl in the golden rush of our blazing sun with me for a change?"



@[Ophelia].
[0/3]

|| Wordcount: 799 -cough- || "talking" ||

Please tag me 


Messages In This Thread
Buried by the sands of the hourglass - by Maren - 02-18-2015, 06:51 PM
RE: Buried by the sands of the hourglass - by Maren - 02-19-2015, 06:46 PM

Forum Jump:


RPGfix Equi-venture