Bellisma

The sound of fast approaching, galloping hoofbeats carried through the air, but strangely absent was the feel of rumbling earth. Stranger still was the noise of a furiously rattling chain accompanying the rhythm of the gallop. A flash of golden copper revealed an impossibly petite blur crashing through the trees. The form was obviously feminine, despite being a blur from her absurd speed.

The swiftness that carried her slight frame through the trees was quite a paradox, for her movement was graceful and athletic, but she ran so recklessly that low tree branches and shrubs whipped against her golden hide. Some she hit with so much force that angry welts immediately sprouted on her delicate skin, thin lines of crimson blood welling to the surface.

Even with the coolness trapped by the trees in the early morning- the sun has barely broken the horizon- her neck had a thick lather, staining the golden to a dark copper. One had to stare to ensure that they saw her hooves touch the ground (for she seemed to fly), and it was this inspection of her legs that revealed the origin of the curious chain noise.

Whipping around her hind legs what a short, thick chain. Clearly attached to her, it hit her slender legs with repeated, devastating blows. But the mare, plainly fleeing as her demeanor suggested, paid it as little attention as she did the branches lashing her skin.

As she ran further into the woods- and away from whatever chased her- the metal clatter began to fade. A closer scrutiny of her shackles showed that they, too, began to fade away. Perhaps it was the magic of the threshold, or perhaps Bellisma had finally reached the edges of her enslavers' range.

Regardless, the chain was such a commonplace for this mare that she ran for a good while longer, the sun almost clear of the horizon, before she began to realize her freedom. And it was only a large pond, more of a mud pit since the heat of Tallsun had mostly dried it, that drew her mind away from her mad dash and to her surroundings.

Her momentum carried her well into the mud, sending small clods of it spraying, before the sucking sludge trapped her legs and sent her violently skidding to a halt. The woods held its' breath collectively- surely one so delicate could not survive such a tumble!

The golden doll laid on her side, motionless in the muck for a few moments. Her muscles screaming for oxygen from their exertions broke through her daze, and the woods let out a collective breath as her ribcage started rapidly moving in heaving breaths.

It was only now that one could finally see her face, and it was entirely worth the wait. Her features were sculpted by ancestry and beauty. The lines were graceful, the color free of markings. The only blemish was the defeat she wore so plainly, and still she was devastatingly beautiful, even while laying in mud.

Silently, she started taking mental note of her injuries, wondering what her punishment would be for each mark she acquired during her dash. Her masters treasured her beauty and she knew she would pay a price for each cut. The only scars they seemed not to mind were the ones left in her mind and on her back leg from the chain-

Her eyes- a lovely green and framed by thick lashes- popped open and she let out a rush of air in a shocked snort. Head raised from the mud as she bent to look at her hind legs. Yes, they were torn and leaking blood, but they were free. Chain-less. Free.

She froze, eyes wide, face blank, flanks still heaving. "No," a breathless whisper escaped her soft lips. Was this a trick? She glanced around, waiting for the leer and laugh she knew so well to break through the birdsongs. She waited longer, still. But it never came.

Her shrill whinny sliced through the birdsongs instead as she voiced the relief and exhilaration that was on her expressive face. She threw herself back in the mud, and started to roll. Perhaps not the wisest of choices given her numerous, bleeding cuts. But it had been so long since she had been allowed to be dirty, muddy, or... well anything she wanted. And right now she wanted to be filthy.

She whickered in delight as she scrubbed her back into the sludge, toothpick legs flailing in the air, and tender belly exposed. It had been years since she had allowed herself to be in such a vulnerable position. But I'm certain she didn't currently care.

Bellisma

At the sound of another voice the small mare leapt to her hooves, slender legs thrashing violently and righted herself so abruptly. Facing the newcomer, but not truly seeing the other through the fear that had recaptured her mind, she rapidly backed away a few horselengths. In Bellisma’s experience, it was never wise to face your hind to another. Unless you planned on running, and knew you could outrun them. But this white mare had wings, and Bellisma’s body, already shaking with exhaustion from her days of flight, was now trembling with panic and surprise.

With the increased distance between her and the other, Bellisma was able to recapture some fragments of her mind through her fright’s fog. A deep, shaky breath inhaled and exhaled through her flared nostrils as she attempted to calm herself- though years of conditioning and abuse made her fight the calm. Calm got you captured. Elsa’s words finally penetrated her anxiety, as did the details of the other’s form.

The other mare was beautiful, just as herself. This made her relax tremendously. Beautiful mares could be trusted, for they usually were pleasant. Ugly mares knew their place, and though may be unpleasant, were generally not unkind. It was the mares that balanced between the two that she had learned to be wary of. The often were threatened by beauty, and could be incredibly cruel. This was the world from which Bellisma came, and it was all she knew.

Bellisma’s dainty face, besmirched by only a few smudges of mud, relaxed somewhat- though her green eyes still held the remnants of her panic. She shook herself cautiously, sending a few clods of mud flying from her coat, mane, and tail. Though she was still deliciously dirty, she had shed the inch-thick coat of thick mud that had clung to her when she originally stood.

Taking another deep breath, she opened her mouth to address the mare, but the fear had claimed her voice and had not yet released it. She snorted in consternation, shuffling a foreleg and again sending mud into the air. Her face was a mixture of unease and irritation. She tried again, and won her voice back, though the sweet sound trembled, “Y-yes. I-I’ve just… come here,” her pause made it clear that she was uncertain if she should reveal that she fled here. Would she be returned as stolen property? And where was ‘here?’

“Where is ‘h-here’?” Her voice was stronger this time, though she still stumbled over some words. She dropped her eyes, and though her gaze had been actively avoid eye contact before, she now no longer even allowed herself to look at Elsa. She had been taught (and ‘taught’ meaning beaten into) that eye contact and staring were signs of dominance. And Bellisma had not a single dominant bone in her body. Only survival ones.

She realized that she should give a name or risk being rude. And rudeness was punishable. “I am…” she paused realizing she was about to give the name her master had given her. But she no longer needed to use that name. She wanted complete freedom from her previous life. So she instead used the name given to her by her mother, “My name is Bellisma.” This time her voice was surer, stronger, but still quiet and bell-like.

She shifted, discomfort from her fatigued muscles, welts, and the large gashes (amid the scars) on her back leg seeping through the adrenaline rush her terror had produced. The mud had a cooling effect though, and held the deep aches at bay for a while longer.

ooc| Hello! :) Yes, please tag me!

Bellisma

At the loudness of Elsa’s voice, tremors ran through Bellisma’s thin skin and her small ears flickered uncertainly. The only loud voices directed towards her usually prefaced something unpleasant. But the eagerness in the white mare’s voice tempered the loudness and stopped the small golden mare from running.

She allowed her eyes to creep back to Elsa, lingering on her wings. She bounced her green gaze from the other’s face to body, seemingly uncertain as to where to rest it. At the offer and explanation of “a place to say” the little mare grew still and rigid. Was she looking for a place to stay? She had only just gained her freedom- it was still wet mud on her hide, not even dry!

But she knew nothing of this new land. And if there were pegasus here, then that meant there were stallions here that she could not outrun. She also knew nothing of the perils, or magic- magic! She knew only terrible things came of magic, and she knew she needed protection, or at least guidance, of how to maintain her freedom in this ‘Helovia.’

During her long moments of internal struggle, Bellisma’s emerald stare grew intense and unconsciously met and settled Elsa’s blue eyes. Their depths betrayed her internal strife. As her mind returned to the present, she started at the realization that she had made eye contact. She dropped her eyes for a moment, before realizing that she was a free mare and could (hopefully) meet the eyes of another.

Nervously, she voiced her concerns aloud to the mare, voice no longer shaking, but the bell-like sound was impossibly quiet, “I’ve only just esca- I’ve only just become free. Would coming to stay with you mean I lose that?” The expression on her sweet face was heartbreaking, as was the sadness that chimed through her words. “And how many- I mean,” She paused a long while, wondering how to ask her next question, “Are there stallions in your ‘Hidden Falls’?” Of course there are stallions there, you silly mare! “I’m sorry, I meant if they’re… well, are they kind?” Another pause, “The mares, too?”

Despite giving away so much of herself in these questions, the small mare needed to know more of this world before she followed another blindly. Though her spirit was greatly muted, it still made itself known in cautious glimmers behind her eyes. And she needed to find it again, reignite the fire, and protect it at all costs.


ooc| @[Elsa] Haha, don’t apologize for a quick reply! I’m sorry mine wasn’t as quick, we did our first spay surgery yesterday and it was very time consuming. Hehe, thank you! I love Bell, but it’s been so long since I’ve played her, I need to get used to her character again!

Bellisma

Her body stayed tense, her ears pricked and listening attentively, hanging onto every word Elsa said. To another, the placating tone and simple explanations may seem unnecessary, but to Bellisma they held the making or breaking of her freedom. However, the little mare appreciated the humorous attempt to lighten the mood, for she had often seen such gestures made by master to angry clients (and more oft than not, she was the ultimate placating tool). So a small smile answered Elsa’s lopsided grin, and it made a drastic difference to the golden mare’s petite face. It erased the concern, the worry, and sent the shadows of fear to the back corners of her eyes.

The smile faded at the explanation of the stallions, “‘Boy quirks?’” the questions was quiet and rhetorical, meant more for herself than for Elsa to answer. She knew nothing of quirks, and no stallion’s kindness could be trusted, so she merely nodded to herself in accepting that this land was different.

The fading smile grew into a creased, petite frown as the mud on her hide dried into a cracked film. With the cooling and healing effect gone, her muscles began to quiver from exhaustion once again. And her slight frame quaked with the pain that radiated from the welts on her delicate skin and the nasty gash on her back leg. Now that the mud had dried, the red stream made itself known as bright crimson on the white scars. She knew she needed to tend to her wounds, and the waterfalls would be good for that.

She took a deep breath and took her first leap of faith as a free mare, “Then yes, Elsa, I would like to accompany you to your ‘Hidden Falls.’” She paused and added, “Please,” as an afterthought, shifting nervously and from discomfort. “I feel I need a bath in the falls before I can appreciate anymore mud,” again, a sweet smile alighted her face.

ooc| Should she just go to Aurora Basin? Hmm, I’m always awkward when it comes to ending threads u_u
@[Elsa]