A bone shatters, fall apart and hit the floor If it doesn't thrill you it doesn't matter any more</style> Like the rushing waters dispersed throughout the land, time goes on indefatigably. The maiden's absence matters not to the crumbled mountains shielding the uneven path she treads upon, but to her the abandonment is of consequence. She has left her lands like an angry child and, unwilling to compromise under the leadership of the red-tipped youth, the bird had stubbornly denied the wraith's claim to a throne that should so obviously have been hers -- though in all of her rage the rampant woman had failed to realize that leaving the Falls was just as bad as staying. The inked mare's ascension left a gaping hole in place of her former rank, and now with the peahen's desertion there would be none left to fill it. As much as the belligerent vixen aspired for a spark of intelligence within her superiors -- at this a feathered cape twitches to convey her disgust -- a part of her selfishly hopes that the position remains unattended. If the sooty hag is worthy of being Chieftess, though, she certainly would have filled the hole. Despite the lack of physical form that her words possess, she can still taste the acidity of them as if they were spoken aloud. The brevity that her mind possesses is normally not so fierce, and the maiden stops short of sliding down another steep path to determine where her intolerance for the Cadaverous stems from. From the very moment that your people chose to save you it has been your right to lead. She has stolen this from you; forced you to break the vow you made to them the day they bled for you. The day they all died for you. A sapphire crown flies skywards as images of her homeland plague her thoughts, and her throbbing red organ retreats to the darkest parts of its cage to avoid the misery sure to pierce it -- but no such blow comes. She will not let their sacrifice be her undoing. She will not allow the hag to destroy her new home. “GHOST!” The cry spills out of the bird as she rushes to take action, sliding down the rocky path to the flatter grasslands below. She does not travel much further than a few strides across the plain when she again draws suddenly to a halt. The spotted boy – who has been silent as a shadow all the while –collides right into her as a result. With an uneasy cackle the hyena quickly bounds away from the fuming vixen, and to his surprise she does not lash out at him. The bird detects his surprise but chooses to ignore it. She has more important matters to attend to than reprimanding her beast. "If you're there conetontli, do come out." A smirk plays across her lips at the words, for only the Chieftess knows their true meaning. Some may consider name-calling to be childish, but to her, it is just part of the fun. "I have returned, little ruler, and I want to speak with you." Give me my crown. "blah blah blah." [Ghost] conetontli -- girl/child Edit: Removed tag to edit. Just as a note to the public, Bellona is NOT challenging Ghost! XD I'm so sorry imi, my bird is just moody ;-;

mac4creativePeople @ flickr.com

The cry of her name didn’t fall on deaf ears. Ghost lifted her head from her pacing as she felt a surprised brow lift at the familiar voice. Bellona? The peacock mare that Seele had spoke so highly of, the Cadaverous knew her exploits, but not her personally. They had conversed on the odd occasion and the young sprite had come to a conclusion that there was some use to her. Enough that the dearly departed Necromancer had trusted her enough and perhaps, if she had lingered, they would have made a partnership to be feared. In the haze of her current problems her voice was the last voice she thought she would hear crying across the crashing falls. Was this heaven sent? If this unruly mare had come with tools to aid her former family, perhaps her luck was slowly beginning to change. If not and this was the opposite, then hell was surely waiting with eager, open arms. Intrigued, Ghost travelled towards the shout with Fantôme in tow, the bundle of fur bounding alongside her, equally interested about where they were suddenly going. Her new trinket, stolen from a former herd mate who had strayed from his home hung loosely around her neck, the symbols at the bottom showed that of the moon. Ironic, as she travelled through the Earth God’s land. It took a few minutes, the banshee travelled on foot down past one cascade, rounding a cluster of trees before finally emerging onto the open grass where the one that summoned her awaited. They were around the same height though there appearances were starkly different. Bellona looked like a tropical bird whilst Ghost looked like a beady-eyed crow. She had an ugly looking beast at her side, a Hyena; Ghost didn’t remember her having a creature like that before. Fantôme hedged his bets and dawdled near his bonded’s furry legs, watching the laughing creature with wary eyes. The Czarina, however, moved onto the matter before her with a risen brow. Bellona spoke a word Ghost did not understand and, for a moment, it faintly reminded her of Seele and her strange use of language. "As I would like to speak with you, Bellona" she artfully replied with a tilt of her head. What had she come back for? "You were quite the talent, I was surprised to see you had disappeared… Where have you been?" She asked with skilfully acted innocence that played on her face like a dramatic charade, wondering if Bellona would see through it. This one snuck around well and knew the careful game, she was perhaps wiser in the craft than the banshee herself. Though Ghost would never admit to such a thing. There was more that could’ve been said, but the sprite left it there and awaited to learn the reason for this vibrant arrival. @[Bellona] <3333 Ghost All your life I'll tease, I'll torment

A bone shatters, fall apart and hit the floor If it doesn't thrill you it doesn't matter any more</style> The bird's rage threatens to spill over like a boiling soup, scalding everything in its proximity, as she waits for the black to heed her call. Not a day has gone by that she has neglected to think poorly of the young czarina, and her opinion of the ghoul does not change when she finally makes her approach. Flaming eyes rake across her sooty hide but rather than assess the youth for areas of exploitation, they land on her trinket instead. I don't remember seeing that last time. The vixen's eyes flash with annoyance at her lack of concentration, and she wrenches her stare from the necklace and to her lead's dull eyes with a toss of her head. Defiance permeates her vision as she listens to the hag speak, but when the shadowy mare refers to her as a talent the only emotion to be found in it is uncertainty. The glowing wisps falling around her seem to gleam brighter with her sudden shift in mood, but the bird denies it with a snort. She doesn't really mean this. A hind hoof stomps the ground in anger, and all trace of doubt dissipates with her reply, "It matters not where I have been, but that I am here now." Why does everyone pay attention to an absence when they couldn't have cared less in an attendance? "I came back for my position, and if you would be so kind as to grant it to me, then I will gladly continue to prove to you what a talent I am." She does little to hide the fury in her tones as she asks this of the Czarina, but to her benefit the hybrid quells her emotions to add, "I left when we warned the herd of the worms. How did that come to pass?" "blah blah blah." @[Ghost]

mac4creativePeople @ flickr.com

Ghost watched the strange wisps around the highly-strung mare glow brighter, her attention was captivated by them for a moment as she wondered what had happened for to be followed by such things. Were they part of Bellona? Odd. Though the conversation didn’t seem lax enough to ask such a casual question, even though her curiosity burned too. Instead, she focuses on the anger lines and the rigidness of her form. Ghost’s gaze betrayed a flash of confusion as she observed the antics and wondered what had the girl riled. She had been the one to disappear, after all, if any of them should be angry wasn’t it her, the Cadaverous, who had more right to be? The sprite paid little heed to her own anger, however, remembering how the emotion had destroyed her incapable mother. From a young age she had practised a state of indifference to be her shield, for Ghost believed that if she could keep her head then, whatever good or bad came, her mind was clear enough to deal with it. Perhaps it was the only lesson Seiren taught her; a complete guide on how not to be like Seiren. The banshee’s mouth twists into an obstinate half smile, impressed by the audacity of the mare. Where had she been these past seasons to demand such a boon of her? "What if I’ve filled your position? Do you expect it back just like that?" As usual, Ghost’s voice was void of any strong emotion as she tried stoking the mare’s fire, wondering what other words of fury would spill from her wild mouth. She waited for an answer (or none) before continuing on, revealing her questions to be mere devilment. "As it happens I did fill your position, her name is Essetia and she was quite good until she recently went missing. Along with our Czar, Midas, I actually have two positions that are sitting solely empty." Indeed, where had they gone? If Bellona were to rise again she would either have to rule under or beside Ghost. Remembering the worms, the incident Bellona had relayed to her and she in turn had carried the report to the Throat, Ghost shrugged. "A series of odd events. It led to a mass murder hunt and several bodies appearing with very little clues to go on. I suspect it resolved itself for the land has quietened, apart from the ridiculous Tallsun we are having-" she paused and regarded Bellona "did you know we turned down an alliance offer with the Basin? Before my reign as Czarina, though since taking the crown I’ve had nothing but trouble from them. If only I’d have known earlier…" she informed, her tongue flashing with over-stated regret. @[Bellona] Ghost All your life I'll tease, I'll torment

A tiny pink mouth hangs open at the sight of the fallen and defeated mountains. "Well would you look at that, big guy. There are some things that are bigger than you!" Laughter of the lighthearted-yet-wizened variety follow after the hooded creature's jest, and a gnarled hand reaches down to pat the beast he is sitting upon. There isn't much there for the Elder to pat, but the action is not meant to convey his affection. "I'm sorry, old fella. You know I didn't mean it like that." The wrinkly sage has been traveling with his (eerily) silent mount for centuries, yet he still insists on conversing with the enchanted skeleton regardless. You need to do something to pass the time when all you have is an eternity of it, as they say. The Elder twists his head about to study the rest of the land.

"Well, if it ain't broke, don't fix it, hmmm? Although I'm not sure the locals know that these were indeed mountains at one point..." The old wizard mutters, pursing his dried-out lips and tsking. Not that anyone watching him can see the disapproval on his face anyway; every inch of his blotted and dusty-purple skin is hidden by the oversized robe that he wears. "These once-mountains must mark the entrance to someplace." From behind the flaccid hood, two rows of eyes continue to watch the immobile sentinels, waiting for something to happen. He crosses his wrists gives them a few minutes to get over their stage fright before throwing his clawed hands up in defeat. "ALRIGHT! Well, obviously you pipsqueaks fell for nothing, hmmm, and I don't have time to waste" -- if it is possible for a skeleton to roll it's eye sockets, the draconian remains do just that -- "so we will be LEAVING! C'mon Gaoulle, let's beat i- aaaaOOOUWWW!"

Unable to complete his dismissal of the mountains as his draconian companion lurches forwards between them, the tiny robed creature can do little else but hold on tight. Luckily for him his hands fit well between his mount's ribs, and finding one to latch onto is just a matter of reaching down. Still, the old man is not impressed.

"Gaoulle! GAOULLE! What are you doing, lad?! This isn't- STAY ON THE PATH!" Cracked and yellow teeth clack together in time to the Undead's bouncy gait, and soon the Elder finds himself wishing he'd invested in a saddle. His stunted tail has never been subjected to this kind of trauma before, but there is little to be done about it. Sooner or later these rampant bones will have to stop, but the only question is when. Fortunately the ride comes to a stop at that exact moment, but the sudden halt sends the little mystic flying through the air. With a scream preceding his descent and his robe streaming behind the crone lands at the two ladies' feet.

The Elder doesn't notice them at first and takes his time nursing his bruised behind, but when he looks up to scold Gaoulle for his joyride it is flesh and blood and rainbows that he sees in place of bone. "AHHH!" The creature's concealed hands fly to his hood to make sure it is drawn down to hide his face.

"Oh, mortals, heh heh..." Shrimpy arms and legs struggle as he butt-scooches away from them. He is breathing rapidly in his panicked state, and both of the strangers' smells drift easily past his hood. His head tilts at their scents, and he pauses to evaluate them. "Maybe not so mortals, hmmmmm... Hybrids." The cloaked figure twists his head around to scrutinize his companion next. "Could you have sensed this, hmmm?" His companion is completely motionless, offering no suggestions as to whether he has meant to find the mares or not. The little one finds this to be insulting until he follows the dragon's emotionless stare .

"Hmm, well of course you did. You've never done something so absurd before!" Turning to the rainbow girl -- who his friend is gawking at -- he squints his eyes and scrutinizes her, trying to figure out why she is so important. To him, she just looks like her brightness setting needs to be turned down a few notches. "Look, I'm sorry miss, but Gaoulle he-" the Elder's mouth drops open for the second time today as the skeleton steps over him and blocks his view of the peacock. "Well excuse me, sir! If you like her so much, why don't you just stay with her?"

At this the bones drop to the ground, slowly sinking into it as if it has become quick sand and leaving only the head of the beast behind. The empty sockets gaze up at the vibrant lady, as if pleading with her to keep him. If the Elder's jaw can drop any further, it is definitely trying to do its best.

A few moments pass as he struggles to comprehend what has just happened, until finally he gets up from the ground and brushes the dirt off his robe. "It looks as if he has found a new master, hmm." His words are heavy with a bit of betrayal, but he does his best to keep it together. A single tear falls from his fourth eye, but he does not wipe it away. They cannot see behind his hood anyway. "You've been chosen, that's for sure, but I cannot quite say why." Crooked fingers grasp the edge of one sleeve, tearing a strip of fabric away with a bit of effort.

Scooping up the skull, the ancient being ties it to part of the bone and offers it to the mare. "Here. Carry him, wear him, do as you will, hmm. I rode him, for Aether's sake! This fabric is very old and will not last long as a strap, though. I do suggest you get this replaced." He rips off a few more strips and turns to the black one when he says, "She can summon the other bones by asking Gaoulle, but if she wants to wear them you should tie them to her. Dragon bones are very resistant to heat as well as damage, hmm, but that doesn't mean she can go jump in lava. Very useful stuff, though, hmm..." Looking off into the distance, he furrows his brow. "He misplaced his tail a very long time ago... Hmm.... Well, I best be off! You be good to him, now! He doesn't talk much, but I'm sure you won't mind it. You ladies have each other, after all. Ciao!" And with a little wiggle of his hips and a clap of his hands, the Elder vanishes, leaving the echo of a chuckle behind.


{Bellona has been granted her bone armor! Custom item pass used for this reception!}

After sitting through their conversation for a while the boy allows his mind to wander elsewhere, relying on his bonded's thoughts to keep him up to date with the news but not paying much attention to them, either. The angry bird's matters are not really his to discuss, and he is unable to share his own ideas, anyway. He has tried that a few times before with no success, and now that there are two mistresses here his chances of being reprimanded have multiplied.

The boy crinkles his nose at the thought of being punished for trying to help. Not that Bellona has ever failed to deliver such blows before, but maybe she can't understand that he wants to help her, not bring her down. Can that be the source of the problem that has plagued their bond? Can it be owed to some misunderstanding? Dark eyes swing upwards to catch a glimpse at the bird's face, but she is busy snapping at the black one, "Of course I expected as much. You'd be a fool if you let my duties go unattended." He can tell just by her tone that she is still furious with the horned girl, but the clouds of anger hovering about her mind have parted to let something else through. Can it be some faint gust of approval that is trying to carry the hatred away?


The boy directs a questioning stare onto the other onlooker. Can he see it too? Or is he alone in all of this? Lengthy limbs pick their way through the grass and give a wide berth around the two hybrids before approaching the wolf. A nervous cackle is his only greeting to the cub, and he watches the other with a wary gaze before settling down beside him. There, a hello.

Ignorant to her companion's awkward attempts at friendship, the maiden fans out the feathers across as her back. She has never heard of the girl that Ghost is speaking of, and this annoys her. Of course the black has appointed someone her predecessor has never met; it doesn't make sense to give a complete stranger a position that the peahen has worked so hard for, and of course Ghost has done just that. Briefly the vixen wonders if Midas ever got his say in the matter, but he does not stay on we mind for long.

So he has gone too, and now the hag is all alone. What an opportunity. But just as the hybrid is about to act upon her ambitions a most queer offer falls from the child's dark lips. Her guard is raised immediately. is this some trick? Fiery eyes search the Czarina's steely ones, but the heat in her stare is not enough to melt the walls protecting the truth behind them. As far as she can tell, the black's suggestion is sincere, but that does not precent the maiden from suspecting her of some wicked plot; she has despised her for far too long to trust her now. Triple-toned wings shift uncomfortably as the peahen continues to listen.

A wave of rock and soil tumbles down the path the bird and her boy came from, followed by an unfamiliar screech. A small bundle of lengthy robes and purple flesh lands beneath her feet shortly after that. Taken by surprise, the vibrant woman balks and lifts herself into a rear. As soon as the shock begins to fade and outrage moves back in, however, bright wings snap open and the hybrid sends her legs plummeting earthwards to stomp on her attacker. Striped pillars connect with the grass, missing her intended target, but they are too numb from the blow to pursue him right away, and he has started talking besides.


The bird eyes the impish creature warily, but as with Ghost she listens to him, too. She is too stunned for words to do much else, in truth; whilst following after the little one's movements the Aztec has caught sight of another strange beast, and this one is far more interesting to her than the first. The one in baggy clothes introduces it as Gaoulle, and the mare suspects that she is supposed to be afraid of someone composed of bones, but something tells her there is no need to be. Perhaps what the dwarf-thing is saying about choosing her is true; the skeleton -- which is about the same height as her Czarina -- is staring directly at her.

Gripped by the chilly hand of awe, the Aztec forgets that she is supposed to be confronting Ghost right now. This meeting is far too spectacular for it to be plagued by her childish jealousy of a girl who has taken her crown; she hasn't been chosen by the bones of some ancestral beast. Memories of the flames dance across the Aztec's mind, some of the glowing gifts of said flames drifting across her vision, and suddenly her lack of fear makes sense: she is about to be gifted something great, and in the moments before achieving such a feat the vixen feels unstoppable.

The fallen Chieftess thinks of the people who sacrificed themselves for her as the beast approaches.Yes, yaomicque. I see you. I have not forgotten your gifts, and I will not forget my promises. I will do this for you, Cualneci-oquichtin.
Blazing eyes watch as the skeleton falls and collapses, as the bones sink deep into the Earth where they have risen once before, and as the robed creature offers the skull of the beast to her. The warrior's colorful plumage sways in time with the waves of emotion flowing through her: a deep, echoing sadness to reflect the loss of her people, then a fierce and rampant need to avenge them, until finally she accepts the mask with a calmness and a sort of certainty about her. "Thank you, yoyolitzin." She doesn't care that he is insulting her. He must be hurting from the loss of his people, too, and she knows all too well what that feels like. "His choice is not in vain."

Turning to the specter as soon as the other has vanished, the Aztec searches for her gaze. Curiosity makes the fire of her stare glow a little brighter for a second, but it dims as the seriousness of their situation dawns on her. Her words are no longer harsh when she says, "Midas' absence has left the herd with a gaping hole. We have our differences, Ghost, and we barely know each other, but it is important that you are not alone in this. Even if it is only temporary, I should like to lead the Falls with you while we wait for the Czar's return."

The maiden isn't the type to offer smiles freely -- and she doesn't trust the youth any more than she ever has -- but that doesn't stop her from delivering a gesture of good faith. Calling for Mictla in her thoughts, she directs the boy to free the silver ornament from her tail. His response is swift and compliant, and he offers the amulet to the black with his eyes to the ground. "We found this many moons ago, but I think it may just suit you better than I. I'd like to offer it to you in exchange for helping me with... Gaoulle." The name tastes unfamiliar on her tongue, yet she knows it will not last long. The bones may no longer possess their spirit, but she will honor it nonetheless.