the Rift


I am a stone [open!]

Aithniel the Inquisitor Posts: 169
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.0
Mare :: Tribrid :: 15.0hh :: 4 Years HP: 75 | Buff: NOVICE
Zerachiel :: Royal Griffin :: Molten Dagger tamme
#1


Aithniel
The first flame burned gloriously, but the second flame burns cold.


Aithniel spread her wings, still new to flying, and coasted to the mainland from the protection of the Dragon's Throat. She found that being isolated only served to make her feel protected. In all honesty, the moat reminded her the mountain protection that she had called home for so long. In quite moments of night, she found herself missing a few friendly faces in the north, and she vowed to visit them soon - especially now that she was fuller, rounder than she was before. Gone was the malnourished, abandoned child. Her body, taking eagerly to rich food, had grown with only a floppy mane and slightly gangly legs the signs of her adolescence.

But, she was old enough to learn. A short, uneasy spiral brought her roughly to the surface. She landed in the stream in the middle of the meadow, splashing the liquid around her body as the moonlit sky danced on the beads of glassy water. The fire child bounded from the stream, wings outspread for balance as she tumbled through the grass. This was where Illynx had found her. This is where her life had begun. Though anger and pain still fueled her ambitions, the hope of this new life was growing brighter. The light would never fully expunge the shadows, for they lay far to deeply in old scars, but the sun was on the rise.

Perked ears listened for someone to spar with - someone to test her skills. She had watched spars in the Dragon's Throat, but she had never before participated in one. Aithniel found herself eager to try. One day, she wanted to be as strong as Gaucho, the fire-brimmed stallion who inspired awe in the depth of her breast. Just the thought of the red stallion made her heart beat quickly - almost the same way as when she gazed upon Erebos. She had no concept of crushes nor ideas about infatuation, but she knew that Gaucho was different.

Her father had blessed him, and she had much to learn. The little girl inside craved attention and praise, and she would cling to any avenue that would let her fight for those feelings. So, she stood in a rare, cool summer evening in the middle of the field, ash tumbling from her lengthy wings as she moved like an apocalyptic storm.



[[(Intro)
Midnight in the Thistle Meadow - a rare, cool summer's day!
Would prefer someone else with no VP :P But I am open for practice on anyone.
I would love for this to be shorter too - not drawn out. ]]


But burn down our home
I won't leave alive


Please tag me in everything!

Megaera the Sunspear Posts: 306
Absent Abyss atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15 h :: 8 [Birdsong] HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE
Gwaihir :: Golden Eagle :: None Laine
#2

megaera</style>
temper our souls with flame and furnace
bear us toward a noble purpose
</style>

Night watch…. Megaera almost sighed at the thought. She was more than happy to fulfil any duties that might be placed on her in the guarding of her home, but she always preferred the day shifts. When Meg set out to scout beyond the ocean borders of the Throat, she liked to have the sun at her back (a guard and a guide for the young warrior) but that could not always be the case. Whatever her preferences, she was a faithful soldier, and would perform her duties to the best of her ability no matter the circumstance.

Diligent in her task, the bay mare flew steadily northward. Her flight was slow and steady, weaving back and forth across the landscape as she kept a sharp eye on the ground for anything out of the ordinary. From his perch on her withers, Gwaihir attempted a mighty screech but came up short with a high-pitched, adolescent trill. The mare chuckled, feeling the eaglet’s childlike disappointment, but sent an encouraging thought to him to keep his spirits up. At just over a month old, he was still only half way through his shift from the fluffy white downy feathers to the dark brown that would mark his sub-adult phase, and looked thoroughly ridiculous. When they flew together, the mare could sense his excitement, the temptation for him to spread his own wings and soar at her side rather than on her back, but always tried to make it perfectly clear that he was to remain fully seated until his wings were fully feathered.

As the night neared its midpoint, the pair was flying high over the vast expanse of the meadow. A splash below had Megaera searching the darkness for the source, and she spotted it after a moment. The pale figure seemed to gleam in the darkness as it splashed out of the water and into the grass. The soldier aimed her course for the shape, nearing to find that a closer inspection made the stranger somewhat familiar. She had seen the girl in and around the oasis in recent weeks, but had yet to catch her name. “Hail!” she called out in a friendly tone. She wasn’t always the best with strangers, but was always eager to get to know members of her herd. Soon enough Meg’s hooves were skimming the lush grasses and she touched down, falling into a jaunty trot to approach the pale girl.

“Good evening, you’re of the Throat aren’t you?” She halted near the girl, sending a smile and a nod through the night. “I am Megaera, a warrior of the Throat, and this is my good friend, Gwaihir.” She turned her body slightly, so the young bird could peer curiously from behind her wing. He gave a disapproving squawk as his golden eyed examined the stranger, and Meg only gave a hearty chuckle. “You’ll have to excuse him, he doesn’t seem to like anyone at first. I believe I’ve seen you around the Oasis, but you’re rather new to our home, I think. Given any thought to joining the warriors?” It was half a joke, as it was clear the pale one had only just left foalhood behind her. Always spoiling for a brawl, through, Meg was quick to size her up. A bit spindly in the leg, maybe, but the falling ash spoke of a deeper fire. The bay knew well that size wasn’t the only mark of a fighter, and was always keen to swell the ranks of the Dragon Army.



”Talk talk talk”
Notes: Intro Feel free to kick it off, Meg’ll be happy to respond (Though I would request a bit of a window to stash Gwaihir in a safe spot since he’s still a wee lad)

Image Credits
FAC FORTIA ET PATERE
be brave and endure
:: permission given for use of magic and force :: please tag Megaera in all posts ::

Aithniel the Inquisitor Posts: 169
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.0
Mare :: Tribrid :: 15.0hh :: 4 Years HP: 75 | Buff: NOVICE
Zerachiel :: Royal Griffin :: Molten Dagger tamme
#3


Aithniel
The first flame burned gloriously, but the second flame burns cold.


The rush of wings was a new sound to her ears, and she turned quickly, seeing a bay mare descend elegantly – as if she was born flying. Aithniel envied that natural flying ability, but she was determined to get better and learn. The mare spoke, and she nodded once, unused to such friendly greetings. Those in the Aurora Basin were interesting. They all had the capability to be friendly, but they kept to themselves, mostly, and she found that it was a herd of loners all combined under the same need for protection. While she did enjoy that independence, there was a comradery in the Dragon’s Throat that she preferred. The smile on her lips was foreign too, and Aithniel remained silent, untrusting for a few moments longer.

Silver, hardened eyes darted to the small, barely feathered eagle creature tucked under her wing, and Aithniel narrowed her gaze, wondering why she was taking care of this bird. Some of those in the Basin had griffins, but she had never really seen just a normal bird before. “I am part of the Throat now, yes,” she replied tacitly. To say that she was difficult to get along with was an understatement, but she did not have the intention to be cold. Getting through her walls of anger and bitterness were difficult, but beneath the mountains of insecurities and pain was someone seeking truth and justice. However, Meg’s next invitation was like singing in her ears, and she perked up visibly, ears straining forward and body shifting.

“Yes,” she said. “I want to be a warrior.” Aithniel’s eyes darted to Megaera’s interestingly scary black eyes, but the fire child was not deterred. She wanted to prove herself and rise through the ranks like Gaucho. Perhaps Megaera could help her on her ascension. She was a warrior after all, so she had to know something. Though untrained and untried, the fire child burned inside with desire, and perhaps, the sheer force of her emotions would allow her recently grown body to make the final leap into adulthood. What she wanted was to be a stone, unaffected and immune to the pains of this world. Her body, mind and soul needed to be firm, unyielding, and now she had the chance to build at least one more physical wall.

Aithniel paused. Megaera could train her today, now even. She was impatient with her desire for power, naturally. “I want to spar, if you will spar with me,” she said, pausing to see if Megaera would accept and if she would do something with the fluffy bird under her wing. She waited for as long as was necessary before stretching her wings out awkwardly, letting them ground her cloven hooves firmly in the grass just beyond the surface of the water. With a deep breath, she centered herself, not giving half a mind to size up her opponent just yet. Right now, this moment, was about summoning the fire inside to fuel her actions, and once the situation lent itself to attack, Aithniel did so without hesitation.

Like a berserker, she threw herself into the fight, lunging forward with her jaws open and shoving down with her wings to give her a few necessary inches of height on her taller opponent. Aithniel aimed to nip at Meg’s face, and she tilted her wings, using wind against the flat of her feathers to halt her rather abruptly in order to keep her from colliding with her opponent. Then, Aithniel dove her head down, hoping that the brunt of her curling horns would hit her in the face – or at least ram into something nearby.


[[(1/3) (608 words in word)
- Aithniel gives time to get teh baby all taken care of :)
- She lunges at Meg and tries to bite her face and then use her horns to smash her nose :/ because Aithniel is a little twerp lol
]]



@[Megaera]

But burn down our home
I won't leave alive


Please tag me in everything!

Megaera the Sunspear Posts: 306
Absent Abyss atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15 h :: 8 [Birdsong] HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE
Gwaihir :: Golden Eagle :: None Laine
#4

megaera</style>
temper our souls with flame and furnace
bear us toward a noble purpose
</style>

Aithnel’s first response was definitely more strait-laced then Megaera’s introduction but that didn’t bother the warrior. She had not expected to be met with the same warmth she was used to from other members of Dragon’s Throat. The young ashen mare was new to the family, as far as Meg knew, and even she hadn’t always been so quick to warm to strangers. It was Megaera’s second question that seemed to capture the mare’s attention, however. Meg’s grin widened when the grey seemed to positively lean forward. Ahh… Hit the mark there, did I? Aithniel’s eagerness was plain enough, and Megaera felt a familiar warmth of amused affection start to well up. She was by no means old herself, and still unused to dealing with those younger than she, but in her encounters over the past season with the brood of desert foals, Meg had found a great liking in watching them learn. In this girl’s ambition, Meg even saw traces of herself at that age, and even still to this day. A warrior should never cease in striving to better themselves. “I will spar, and be happy to do so. You’ll have to give me a moment, Gwaihir’s a bit young to be caught in the middle.”

There was a small boulder, not too far away, that would make a decent perch for the fledgling. It was big enough to be visible, even in the dim light and they would be able to avoid it fairly easily. With quick strides, Meg moved over to it and bent her neck low. Using his sharp clawed feet to grip, Gwahir moved (after a mental nudge from Meg) down and onto the stone. There, he squawked discontentedly and attempted to hop to the ground and hobble off in protest but a firm nudge with her nose and an authoritative ’Stay!’ through their bond was enough the keep him in place. A quick thrill of apprehension ran through the mare at the idea of her companion leaving his safe spot and straying into the middle of the spar. She was responsible for him after all, and could not imagine losing her little friends so soon after they had found each other. She gave another press on the top of his feathery head with her muzzle and turned back to her young opponent.

There was a marked change in Meg’s posture as she moved back towards the filly. She still moved easily, but there was a precision to her steps, and a marked deliberation in every movement. Black eyes were trained on the young one, taking note of size, build, and age. She was only a bit smaller than Meg, perhaps another year and they might be evenly matched in size. As jaunty as Meg could be, there was no joke in her now. If she was going to be a coach to a young warrior, it would not be a task she took lightly; both their lives might one day depend on the lessons she was taking a part in teaching. Honestly she wasn’t quite sure how to begin. Maybe it’s best to see where her instincts take her, build from there. Well, at least that seemed to make sense, so Meg dug her hooves into the soft, thistle-covered ground and lifted her head to gesture. “Come at me when you’re ready then!”

After a moment, Aithniel exploded forward with an impressive fury, and Meg broke her silence with and exhilarated laugh. Girl’s got fire, all right! The grey was before her in a flash, teeth bared. Meg pulled her head to the side, trying to avoid the bite and felt only a graze of incisors across the bridge of her nose. Meg began to move forward, but too quickly; the curling horns of the hybrid filly gave a sound knock to the front of her face. It wasn’t a bad injury, but like any blow to the head, it put a ringing in the bay’s ears and a star or two in her eyes. Despite the knock to the head, Meg’s counter attack was already in motion. She shoved herself forward, having waited with the muscles in her hind legs coiled like springs. With her wings tucked tight to her body and her head hung low, she trust her left shoulder forward aiming for the center of the filly’s chest. The girl had stopped so suddenly that Meg hoped to catch her off balance, and threw her weight into it. If this one had thought body checks were off the table, then maybe Meg did have something to teach her.

Attack: 1/3
Words: 769 in Word
Summary: Stashes baby on a rock a ways away (Thanks!!) Waits for Aithniel to attack, ready to spring herself forward. Meg thinks she avoids the attack when the bite just grazes her and lunges forward. Aithniel’s horn hits her right between the eyes, making her a bit disoriented. Meg continues her lunge forward with her left shoulder forward, aiming for Aithniel’s chest.

Image Credits
FAC FORTIA ET PATERE
be brave and endure
:: permission given for use of magic and force :: please tag Megaera in all posts ::

Aithniel the Inquisitor Posts: 169
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.0
Mare :: Tribrid :: 15.0hh :: 4 Years HP: 75 | Buff: NOVICE
Zerachiel :: Royal Griffin :: Molten Dagger tamme
#5


Aithniel
The first flame burned gloriously, but the second flame burns cold.



For the daughter of the Sun God, Aithniel was anything but warm. In a way, fire could be cold. Light could be cold. The stars overhead that shone and shimmered offered no heat when the sun was absent, and she was the same – a flake of ash from fires long since dead. Cool, she watched, offering no response to the grin on her bay features. Though small in stature and young in age, Aithniel was anything but a child, and she refused to be treated as such with trivial expressions and the chastising (but good natured) way of adults. Yes, she was eager. Who wouldn’t be? Thus, she only nodded with a professional but excited air, and she blinked stony eyes as she waited for her opponent to tuck away the barely-feathered bird creature. Childhood had disappeared the day she was born, eluding her forever, and she found herself wondering what Rikyn, Erebos and Adelric were doing in the north. Certainly the fire prince following in his father’s steps…

Aithniel sighed, watching her the mare turn to her, saying that she was ready. Being told twice was unnecessary. Seconds later, she threw herself into the fight, no words passing from her lips in acknowledgment. Why speak verbally when action would speak louder? Jaws open, she lunged, feeling the edge of her incisors scrape along Meg’s nose, but they did very little harm. No taste of coppery blood pooled on her tongue, but she did feel her solid horns collide with another bone. Only later did she discover that she had hit Meg’s forehead, such was the nature of her equid vision. A small sliver of satisfaction flitted in her heart, but it was easily consumed by the inner rage – a slow burning fire that kept her legs moving through the darkest shadows and cruelest nights. Otherwise, emotion was meaningless, cast aside for the sake of this spar.

The fire child was too young, perhaps, to understand that passion could fuel a fight: that when her body failed, her heart could battle in her stead. Perhaps she did not think she possessed a heart at all, or maybe it was just hiding. Whatever reason, it was locked away tightly, and she lifted her gaze, eyes sweeping analytically over her opponent’s form and feeling numb. Megaera was taller, but only slightly. She was a similar build, differing only slightly. A quick glance was not enough to separate out their component parts into easily differentiable skills, but if there was one thing Aithniel noticed right away, it was that she was indeed faster. Maybe not by much, but it was something, and she would use it to her advantage as much as she could.

With wings outstretched from her efficiently fast halt, she let her hooves touch the ground again, seeing the way Megaera’s body coiled for a counter attack. Aithniel tried to back away, but ironically and in a sharp counterpoint to her previous deductions, Meg was faster. The bay’s shoulder hit square between her shoulders in the center of her chest, knocking the breath clear out of her lungs. Cloven hooves slid across the ground as she was shoved back, gasping for air against the sharp pain of screaming sternal muscles, and she blinked in confusion at the speed with which this counter attack was struck. Okay, maybe she was faster, but Megaera was more experienced? Lucky even? Aithniel didn’t really know the answer to this, but she didn’t have time to figure it out.

Straining to breathe against her tightening chest, she tucked left wing to her side and shoved her body weight over; hoping to catch Megaera’s left side as she presumably passed by. In closer quarters given Meg’s successful strike, Aith hoped to at least knock her off balance by shoving into her hips, but she would not be surprised if she missed. The timing would have to be perfect, and that was up to fate. Unwilling to go down without trying again, Aithniel shifter her haunches in what she assumed was Meg’s direction and lashed out with her back legs, sending cloven hooves firing like rockets in her direction. Wings now outstretched for balance, she inhaled sharply, testing the capacity of her lungs and ignoring the stinging sensation with each breath. To keep her back safe, she jumped forward again, pushing down with her wings in hopes that she would create some distance, one, silver eye trained over her shoulder at Meg.


[[(2/3) (745 words)
- Aithniel takes the full hit from Meg and can't breathe D:
- tries to throw her weight to the side to catch Meg off balance
- Kicks out behind her to try to snag Meg wherever she ends up
- Tries to create distance by lunging away ]]


But burn down our home
I won't leave alive


Please tag me in everything!

Blu the Bootyful Posts: 443
Administrator atk: 99 | def: 99 | dam: 99
Mare :: Other :: 5'7" :: 25 HP: 99999 | Buff: TWERK
Blu
#6
Megaera defaults to Aithniel. Aithniel receives +0.5 VP.
 HP: 1100

Helovia Hard Mode


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