the Rift


[OPEN] Where the story begins [Arrane welcoming]

Kipling Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#1
Somebody has to go polish the stars
The journey from the Threshold to the Hidden Falls was a blessedly short one, and the mild day made it downright pleasant – at least for Kipling, whose own strength had rapidly returned to him in Helovia after his harsh travels through the hinterlands. Perhaps Arrane, the newcomer in his desolate condition, had other feelings about the brief jaunt to the north. Friendly as he was, Kipling wouldn’t know - empathy had never exactly been his strong suit.

Kipling’s massive bronze horn pointed the way like a compass needle, drawn magnetically to the familiar borders of his home. Gradually, the trees thinned and the ground grew rocky beneath his hooves. Despite his growing familiarity with the terrain, he still slipped and stumbled over the stones like a newborn foal wobbling around on hours-old legs. It was not just that he was clumsy, although that was certainly part of it, but it was more that he simply did not care. He fumbled along, flicking an ear back now and then when he remembered he was supposed to be paying some attention to his company.

At last, the thin veil of water emerged in front of him, the rushing falls humming their song of greeting. “You go through it!” Kipling announced proudly. As if to explain himself, without waiting for any further response, he flung himself haphazardly through the spray. “Wheeeeeeeeeeeeee!” He cheered through his leap before landing gracelessly on the other side, legs splayed beneath him and horn waving furiously as an instinctive counterbalance. The novelty never seemd to wear off on him, and his heart thundered from the thrill of it.

Gathering himself, Kipling turned to face the sheet of water. “See?” He shouted over its noise, poking a hoof back through and sending water splashing out in all directions by way of explanation. “It’s fun!” He beamed and withdrew his leg, stepping back hastily to clear the landing.


OOC: OPEN. Liquid time, thread takes place in Birdsong. @[Africa] @[Arrane]
Kipling

Africa the Starry-Eyed Posts: 727
Deceased
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 :: 6 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE
Silas :: Common Zephyr :: Roc Riven
#2



Even as thin sooty lips parted to reply with her name, the effervescent chestnut’s voice burst again from his grinning jaws and lean, gangly legs propelled his awkward mass forward through the timber. “Oh my!” she gasped, a smile (tinged with surprise), rising through her demure expression. The other soon slowed however, to a pace all three would undoubtedly find more relaxing. Africa stepped quietly behind, guiding the paler stallion along the littered path which wound towards home. Long ears swivelled to note each murmur ushered by creatures bothered by the Unicorn’s frivolity, though she was not so disgruntled – his unbridled enthusiasm was a welcome contrast to the woe-riddled creatures that more often traipsed this wilderness.

“I’m Africa.” She mentioned humbly once they were set in their journey, turning to the white stallion with a smile. “Where have you come from?” The one-winged mare was ever curious about the lands beyond Helovia (the lore closer to home also), and asked often those whom she came across, so that she might in turn be able to weave their experience into fable later on. She fell silent for much of the remaining walk, content just to listen, or if Arrane felt less incline to talk, soak up the pleasant ambience surrounding.

They passed through the last of thinning trees just as rock became the platform for their stride, and pale eyes looked quickly for the cascade of water, spilling down the jagged face of sheer cliff. It was both a relief and thrill to come upon it – Africa preferred not to stray too far from the safety of the borders, though returning to such a marvel after any time spent away was a blessing indeed. It fed her curiosity and her fascination with the natural world, and as the furious roar rose to greet them (mist billowing forward to embrace their arrival), slim, heavy ears pitched forward eagerly.

Kipling turned gracelessly to find them, and the proud glint in his rich bronze gaze drew an affectionate smile through her expression. “Its true,” Africa revealed, just as the stallion whirled from their sight through the frothing, white curtain, and she laughed amusedly – the sound blending with the shrill of his cheer. “Come through, Arrane.” Her tone was soft, though still loud enough to breech the noise of the water, and inviting. Long legs motioned forward and she emerged quickly, saturated, out into the light-filled cave on the other side. Velvet nose reached to brush against the horned stallion’s should he allow the friendly gesture, before she turned to welcome the white through.

Image Credits

@[Arrane]


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