the Rift


[OPEN] My Tongues Of Flame Will Be Your Bane

Zandora Posts: 85
Outcast atk: 7.0 | def: 10 | dam: 3.0
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15 HH :: 7 years HP: 60.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Evara :: Black Leopard :: None ShadowMare
#1
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Oh it had been much to long, the mare of purples and blacks had lain dormant, like a volcano with bubbling and blistering veins of toxic magma awaiting the moment that it would no longer be a simple landform but rather a fearful obstructive monstrosity. Her pupil-less eyes scanned the frosted mountain tops in the distance, her breath showed gray as the weather around cooled in the night temperatures. She had hidden up here for the past few weeks, observing herd life in the Aurora Basin, a strange place that had become her "home" (whatever that meant.) The invasion had left her extremely confused, another reason as to why she wondered aimlessly about these hills rather then jumping on foreign soil. If she was correct, the basin had been deemed victorious overall, and that made her evilly joyous that she belonged to a herd of such might and power.

Walking forward, Zandora blended well within the capes of night. Her delicate black ears tipped forward and listened for a sound in the loud silence of the blackened day, the snap of a twig or the swish of a tail perhaps. Zandora had decided to travel closer to herd borders, where she might come across another equine. Now that she had steepened Zandora was a strong flavor ready to face the treacherous dangers of the world and those who lie within it (not that any could be more fearsome then herself) and there would be no question that the mighty mare of purples and blacks would win.

Tag: @[Ashamin]
Speech

Julieta on Arkana
[Image: 56a075b49df35]
No restrictions on things that can happen to Zandora, please tag in first posts only.

Ashamin the Clovenheart Posts: 426
Outcast atk: 8 | def: 11.5 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 HH :: 5 [Frostfall] HP: 79 | Buff: NUMB
Lochan :: Plain Cerndyr :: Dark Mist & Rakt :: Common Cerndyr :: Starpast Jen
#2

Isn't he a bold one,

all by himself

in a stranger's land,

becoming stranger

and fighter

at heart?

Ashamin had a lot to learn about herd life. The first thing was that everywhere you looked, there was someone else. It was impossible for him to find a place where he could be alone in the open hills and frozen plains of the herdlands; he was beginning to understand why Phantom had claimed a cave all for herself.

And it was good, sometimes, to never be alone. When Ashamin was alone he found his thoughts turning to darker, sadder things--with another, he could be distracted. But whether or not he knew which was better--to distract or to dwell--remained to be seen. And with neither option proving to be a clear winner, the young stallion had decided it would be best to cover all of his bases.

Ashamin had wandered far into the depths of the territory and wove his way now between the pine-covered hills at the base of the mountains to the North-Easternmost part of the territory. He scanned with black eyes that seemed empty for a crag or a nook, a den of shadow where he might be alone for a moment and able to rest his weary mind.

But of course, Ashamin was in a herd, now. And he never really would be alone, again. So even though he had sought solitude, time to reflect in a darker wood in the night, he found the presence of another in no time at all. A dark mare, almost blending into the surroundings, walked through the area, twigs and pines littered at her feet. Ashamin knew that the proper thing to do, then, was to greet her. She was a fellow herd member, he hoped, and if she wasn't he had a duty to perform as a soldier. How proud Einarr and the others would be if he successfully performed that task.

His daydreams were useless, however, for it was not a task that needed performing. It quickly became clear, by the stature and familiar knowledge of the land that this mare seemed to have, that she was no trespasser. Besides, this deep in the Basin, a trespasser surely would have already been caught.

So that left herdmate, and the obligation to be social. Ashamin stiffened with anxiousness and stood still in the shadow, holding his breath. He knew what he had to do, but a part of him so badly wanted to be a stranger to her, passing in the night. He sneaked around her in a wide circle, making use of the shadow as best as he could, but when a cloud shifted and he realized how thin the canopy was above him, he was caught in a cool, wash of moonlight and knew he would be seen.

Frozen, he stood directly in front of the mare he had been hoping to avoid. The white parts of his coat and the smooth stone in his horn seemed to glow in the sudden burst of light from the heavens and his posture stiffened with a facade of confidence. He nodded to the mare in a sort of quiet hello, slowly and deliberately, and resigned himself to his fate.

With one white, cleft hoof put forward, then another, he drew closer to the mare and reached out his face as he always did to touch hers, proffering a touch and a physical greeting before even speaking a word.

[[Tagged: @[Zandora]; he is a soldier, his rank just isn't changed yet.]]
Ashamin
on his own

rainydoll-stock | webtreatsetc | larfsalot
on deviantart


See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
Do not tag me, please message on skype instead


Zandora Posts: 85
Outcast atk: 7.0 | def: 10 | dam: 3.0
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15 HH :: 7 years HP: 60.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Evara :: Black Leopard :: None ShadowMare
#3
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Zandora tried to keep her focus on the world around her, the world of shifting seasons and life, but with silence came thoughts. She could feel herself slip into her memories, the door to hell always stood wide open beckoning for her return. She could hear the rhythmic pounding of her soiled and cold heart, beating a melody of disaster. Zandora remembered the day, oh the day that turned everything into 'before the day, or after the day.' It was silly to think that she used to be a mare loved by all, a mare worthy of title, a mare without a single thread of disease within a single cord of her bones. Indeedly humorous. The Zandora she had become was the result of buried layers of tragedy and pain, her heart calloused by the very disease of deceit that she had fought so hard to evade only years ago. Her eyes of deep violet and lavender reflected the bitter flames that bursted within her memories, the sorrow and misery becoming much to real. Just before she caved in on herself, her eyes that had been pinched closed snapped open and the dark eerie world around her welcomed Zandora back from her trip of torture. Her skin crawled with the feeling of another close by, Zandora was good at listening and observing, traits she had learned with her years of being invisible to the existence of equines.

Her eyes sought the source of -desired- disruption, she had been lingering within these hills isolated for a long time. Thinking of contact with another equine seemed strange and foreign. Although she had only felt the presence of another being, for all she knew she was facing a deer who had stumbled off path. Her ears flicked forwards and backwards eagerly and intensely seeking out the presence that enveloped her. Turning her head she caught sight of a fellow lingerer, her mind instantly analyzing the brute that stood before her. He looked like a deer caught in headlights, as if whom he was looking at was to be his death, an assumption that was not far off. He had a body that looked thin, muscled yes, but he looked rather lanky. A appendage of the mightiest of all cats hung low by cloven white hooves. His horn was carved art, twisted and knotted with a beautiful stone chiseled deeply it's cage of black. The young stallion's next move was brave, and to the mare that had only experienced such things before the day she snorted and rejected such a greeting. "Such physical interaction is unneeded, I prefer greeting of the oral type." Zandora said with deep silky words that held her despicable attitude. She tossed her lilac ribbons and spoke again "Do inform me, what is your name?" She asked with an arch of her evil brow.
Tag: @[Ashamin]
OCC: I'm sorry that this got so dark and that she's rude :.(
Speech

Julieta on Arkana
[Image: 56a075b49df35]
No restrictions on things that can happen to Zandora, please tag in first posts only.

Ashamin the Clovenheart Posts: 426
Outcast atk: 8 | def: 11.5 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 HH :: 5 [Frostfall] HP: 79 | Buff: NUMB
Lochan :: Plain Cerndyr :: Dark Mist & Rakt :: Common Cerndyr :: Starpast Jen
#4

At a point in time

the sweat drips and

frost covers,

The pine begins its slowing.

Draped in nervousness,

a boy forces himself to face a reality.

The young buck, truly a deer in headlights, had never had his touch rejected before. He was surprised, in some ways, that it hadn't happened yet. And being who he was he couldn't bring himself to be offended by the mare so much as upset by his boldness. Perhaps the warm reception he had been gifted with upon arrival, first in Helovia and then in The Basin, was something he'd grown too comfortable with already. He shouldn't have expected such kindness of this mare, he frankly didn't even deserve it.

Ashamin stepped away from her with respect, dipping his head and staring wide eyed at his shadow. As much as he knew he had no right to have received affection from this mare, he felt hurt. Hurt, perhaps, my his own shame and a hot embarrassment. How could he have thought it was his place to always offer up himself in such a manner? Perhaps he would have to quit, or at least be more careful with, the habit.

"Apologies," Ashamin answered softly, his gaze and his voice plummeting to the cold earth, his breath causing a faint stir in the pine needles at his feet as they caught in the clefts of his hooves. He lifted his neck some, taking care to bring it nowhere near the irritable (or was she simply justified?) mare, and looked beyond the mare, over her, and into the shadows of the trees. Thick, syrupy sap that had begun to drip down the trunk of a pine now stilled as if beginning to freeze. "My name is Ashamin," he said hesitantly, his gaze drifting, his mind briefly taken off of it's troubles by the surroundings. He vaguely wondered if he should offer more, said: "I'm a soldier here, I just recently joined."

The white whiskers on his own nose seemed to stiffen in the chill. The mare, standing before him steeped in something that seemed like arrogance, belonged to this night more than he. He traced the patterns on her coat with his gaze, making out faint purples that seemed to fade into the blacks in the dark of the evening. He wanted to ask her name, but her tone was just unwelcoming enough that he wasn't sure he felt comfortable. Then again, if he didn't, wouldn't she accuse him of rudeness? He clamped his teeth together, sighing through them for a moment, before asking the question.

"May I... ask the same of you?"

Even in that, Ashamin yielded to her, asked for permission. What a failure, he thought to himself--what a coward.

[[Tagged: Don't apologize! She's being who she is. Ashamin doesn't have to like it, but I understand staying true to a character xD]]
Ashamin
on his own

rainydoll-stock | webtreatsetc | larfsalot
on deviantart


See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
Do not tag me, please message on skype instead


Zandora Posts: 85
Outcast atk: 7.0 | def: 10 | dam: 3.0
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15 HH :: 7 years HP: 60.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Evara :: Black Leopard :: None ShadowMare
#5
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Respect and submission, the two words rolled of her thoughts with sweet accents. Zandora craved the words, they were what made a fearful reputation, something that she worked for. She observed his orbs, the way they seemed to bulge from his eyes as he looked away into the blackness of his shadow as the moon cast it's own upon his ebonite and pearl patched body. He spoke then, seeking forgiveness for something that Zandora wondered why he even bothered. The young stag's vocal tone bounced around in her mind, he seemed so effected by her simple disregard of physical touch that it bothered her enough to "comfort" him. "Do not feel hurt, the preferences of myself are unlike the most of Helovia's inhabitants. Remain strong, do not show your discomfort, it'll instantly give those around you the upper hand." She said in a monotone voice, the little care she had for this meeting still showing through her harsh words.

Ashamin, a soldier. This meant they were equals, working in the same task force. Zandora looked at the stallion in a slightly different way, as if she was forgetting his annoying self-insecurity and giving him another chance to regain her approval. Not that he needed it, but Zandora worked that way, either you gained her inner approval or you instantly were dead to her, very few could make it out of her black list.

The wind soaked into her coat, working it's way through the heat she had contained and injecting a serum of icy coldness. Her breath becoming thick and white as she breathed through chilled teeth. Ashamin would be an equine that will prevalent in much of her life, and Zandora felt inclined to help him overcome the lack of confidence that bothered her vastly, that is if he recognized it and wanted help. 'How strange' she thought, she would aid another? The ebonite mare quickly shook the idea away before she begun to jump through the loop holes.

"My name is Zandora, I as well have recently joined the basin in the fortify tier. Perhaps we can spar, the practice is much needed on my side." She said with a slight tilt of her head, her lavender eyes still containing no emotion. Whether she liked it or not, Zandora would have to make alliances within the herd, and she needed them even more within her own rank.
Tag: @[Ashamin]
OCC: I think it'd be so awesome if they became good friends, like he helps Z become less of a bitch and she helps him become more confident? That'd be sooo cute if your in!
Speech

Julieta on Arkana
[Image: 56a075b49df35]
No restrictions on things that can happen to Zandora, please tag in first posts only.

Ashamin the Clovenheart Posts: 426
Outcast atk: 8 | def: 11.5 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 HH :: 5 [Frostfall] HP: 79 | Buff: NUMB
Lochan :: Plain Cerndyr :: Dark Mist & Rakt :: Common Cerndyr :: Starpast Jen
#6
The mare before him spoke with a remarkable lack of emotion in her voice. Ashamin couldn't help but stare, but the moment he noticed he'd let his eyes fix on her for any longer than a few seconds, he ducked his head and turned it away. How could he be so inept at staying out of sight, after all this time?

He thought about how long he had been alone. He had been ok that way, hadn't he? Should he have stayed a lone wanderer?

The boy stopped his mind's path. He thought about Sikeax's words, and remembered death. No, loneliness was death. A few more months of grieving solitude and he would have been food for the birds, and likely by choice. It was a sobering thought to realize that his fate now rested in the gaze of others--that the same hooves that had led him to the Basin had led him away from suicide.

Ashamin's ears perked up as the mare began to speak once more. He took in her words slowly, carefully, letting them settle in his thoughts before even attempting to formulate a reply.

She was kind in her refusal, at least. He had noted that when she had first spoken, but this second proffering, this admission of her own rank, brought a soft smile to his face. A spar? It would certainly be a good way for him to learn. Whether or not he was ready now, he wasn't sure, but he wasn't sure he ever would be. And though a nervousness gripped him, he found himself nodding, ever so softly.

"I would like that," Ashamin answered, his voice soft but no longer shaking, as if emboldened by the prospect of proving his mettle. He considered admitting that he had never before sparred but feared it would only be exposing a weakness. Then again, odd as she was, wasn't she a herdmate? And this was just practice, after all, he didn't expect she'd try to seriously hurt him.

Would she?

The young buck swallowed, his tail flicking to betray his sudden fear. Still, he felt he had to fill the silent void.

"I am new, but... I would like to try, too."

And with that, Ashamin laid his pitiful hand on the table. He lowered his gaze to his hooves, the only potentially formidable thing about him. But no, even they would serve him little use. He couldn't look back at Zandora, but he let his voice trail back towards her. "And it is nice to meet you, Zandora. I appreciate your advice," he responded with sincerity. His inability to look her in the eyes didn't do his submissive thankfulness any sort of justice.

[[About to go on busy and started a spar on the 19th--perhaps we can start ours on the 29th, when I return? That or if you would like you can start it on the 26th and I can just reply when I get back (unlikely before then.) We can keep rping until then a little if you find it necessary but I will be pretty busy and not able to reply much, fair warning.

As for their friendship, we'll see what happens! Ashamin is a friendly if not shy guy so it is definitely within reason. I agree it would be good for them both I think, but we'll see how it all plays out. I try to not plan stuff too much and just let Ashamin do his things.]]
Ashamin
on his own

rainydoll-stock | webtreatsetc | larfsalot
on deviantart


See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
Do not tag me, please message on skype instead


Zandora Posts: 85
Outcast atk: 7.0 | def: 10 | dam: 3.0
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15 HH :: 7 years HP: 60.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Evara :: Black Leopard :: None ShadowMare
#7
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Ashamin was all over the place she felt like, at one moment she could feel his eyes on her black coat and in another she saw him staring at the ground as if there was a nuclear attack happening at his feet. It was strange to the mare who was so used to people being brave and rude, to see a delicacy in the soul of this stallion. It was strange to see a delicacy at all in the soul of another, the world seemed to be so consumed with 'who's better' that those of daintier actions were forced to adapt to such theories of demand in the world. Everything had become a product of this demand, and the supply -once so pure and clean- had become poisoned by the facade of it's demand. Deviousness had become the new truth, and being a devil was considered angelic. The effect that he had on her, the submission that she really never tasted and now had made her head spin with confusion, it made her think on levels that she didn't like too. Zandora wanted to live life in simple ways, without strategy or plans, without reading to far into anything. This contradicted such desires of living, and Zandora did not like it.

Ashamin was new at sparring, just as herself. She had yet to truly figure out how her body worked and how to use her heritage as an advantage, but Z was not worried, she was confident that she would figure it out in time. "I have little experience as well, but I plan to practice very hard, I am enlightened with your acceptance." She said with a genuine raising of the lips. "Pleasure to be of acquaintance." Zandora said with laced emotions in her words. She tried to make him feel more comfortable, his lack of eye contact caused her to feel the same confusion and emptiness as before. Why was he like this? She wondered, was there a story behind the stallion of ebonite and white? "What's your tale?" She asked rather bluntly, her eyes searching for a crack in his armor, some clue to his demeanor. There had to be something.



Tag: @[Ashamin]
OCC: LOL to Z, she's literally having a mind fuck, Ashamin is screwing around with her mentally. She can't accept his shyness
Speech

Julieta on Arkana
[Image: 56a075b49df35]
No restrictions on things that can happen to Zandora, please tag in first posts only.

Ashamin the Clovenheart Posts: 426
Outcast atk: 8 | def: 11.5 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 HH :: 5 [Frostfall] HP: 79 | Buff: NUMB
Lochan :: Plain Cerndyr :: Dark Mist & Rakt :: Common Cerndyr :: Starpast Jen
#8

short histories

long memories

old hearts

and their songs

Though the young buck noted a slight alteration in the mare's demeanor, perhaps a slip of nervousness, he hadn't the faintest clue that he was the cause of it. How could he be? He was just a shy and unassuming young stallion; he'd never had such a profound effect on anyone before.

His tail waved anxiously as he listened to the mare's simple reply. She seemed to be growing more polite, or perhaps simply more gentle on account of his obvious insecurities, by the minute. Though ashamed that his actions had forced her to modify her attitude, he was admittedly thankful. Had Zandora maintained the cold he'd first seen in her, he wasn't sure how well he'd be able to respond.

It was especially when she asked him a question, that fateful one he'd never expected, that he was relieved by her turn to kindness. Her interest in him was both intriguing and intimidating; he so rarely talked about himself, what was he to say now? But he knew he had to answer, and do so directly and truthfully. That was just what he had been taught.

He lifted his heavy black gaze just in time to see the raise of Zandora's lips (was that a smile?) and the searching look on her face. She really did want to know about him; he was shocked.

Ashamin swallowed and shuffled his forehooves, stepping on them lightly and letting them scrape across the cold. "I... I come from a cold valley," he began, "one much like this. I lived there with my father for my entire life, but--"

A somber silence overtook him. It was almost too difficult to say, but no, he knew he had to. He continued with a turn of his face, watching the distance as if he was unable to face another in the admission of his father's death--as if it had been his fault.

"My father, he raised me. And he just recently fell to faith. I came to Helovia on my own, seeking somewhere," he paused for a mere second, hummed quietly as if searching for a word, and then went on: "somewhere I can start again, I think." And with that he turned back to the mare, his deep charcoal pits looking over her curiousity. Had he satisfied her? He felt strange, telling her so much (for him, that was more than usual), but she had asked, oddly enough, and he hadn't the ill-manners to ignore the question. Just as he hadn't the ill-manners to not return it.

Shyly, Ashamin stepped forward and to the right, tilting his head and mimicking his company's thirst for knowledge about the other. "And you... what is your story, Zandora?" His question marked the conclusion of his own, depressingly short tale.

Was there really so little to his life?

[[@[Zandora]]]
Ashamin
on his own

rainydoll-stock | webtreatsetc | larfsalot
on deviantart


See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
Do not tag me, please message on skype instead


Zandora Posts: 85
Outcast atk: 7.0 | def: 10 | dam: 3.0
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15 HH :: 7 years HP: 60.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Evara :: Black Leopard :: None ShadowMare
#9
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Zandora's ears settled in a relaxed stance, the chill of the night brushing across her ebonite coat. The purple locks in her hair delicately swirling with the breath of the Wind. It was such a strange day, night, week, everything that was paused in her life only days ago had quickly come back to life and honestly Zandora was heavily burdened by this weight upon her shoulders. There was so much more behind her cold facade, so much more to the mysterious mare with the purple horn and hooves. She had created the supernova of inner turmoil inside herself and it was slowly consuming her. She was so used to using her default- ignoring the pain and pushing it away, that when she arrived to a new world and new everything, she felt as if she had to face it and Zandora simply, didn't know how.

Her eyes reflected this sadness, this deep depression that was laced within her soul. Some part of her -the part unaffected by the growing nova inside- thanked the young cloven hoofed stallion. He was somehow inadvertently drawing something out of her, bringing her to face herself in ways that she cowered at before. There was no quick fix for her, she was still going to be blunt, be rude, and try to become the top, but Ashamin deserved to see a softer side of her, after all, he was the source of this sudden and unexpected change in herself.

Ashamin begun speaking and her violet eyes fell upon his face with a softness(still rather emotionless, but still softer then usual) that had never been seen before (well not after the day) and she listened as he spoke, his voice slowly exposing the insecurity of speaking about such a topic. A thing they had in common, speaking about her past was something that she was so closed off to and uncomfortable about. To the point she regretted asking him such a question, because she knew she'd be asked the same. And knowing that she tired to be above cowardly and shy, she would speak of something she vowed not long ago, never to talk about.

She paused for a moment after Ashamin had finished his story, she felt like there was more to his story, her answer didn't satisfy her much, but as Zandora reminded herself, satisfaction was not to be judged by the eyes of herself, when the story is in the eyes of another. Her ears flicked back and twitched has he spoke the dreaded words "what is your story, Zandora?" Her eyes searched the landscape around her, as if for a moment, she was looking for a way out. Then Zandora came back to herself and shook her black cloaked head, as if she was disowning herself for showing fret and nervousness. "Your story is interesting...I suppose. I do wish to know more, but I will save you the misery." She said with a low chuckle, as if everything was suddenly fine.

Was it? Was everything truly fine?

"My story is one of abandonment, pain, isolation, and horror. My story is one that you tell the children to scare them into safety." She said with a tone slowly sliding down from deep and beautiful to pained and scared. Her eyes looked almost freakishly still, as she felt herself become consumed in memories, it was grasping her heart and clawing with metallic blades of misery. She continued to speak, or at least she thought she was, Zandora could not be sure. "I was kidnapped----little child, heir to t-t-throne." Her words were spilt and strange, as if she was playing a film and the connection to herself and reality was breaking. "Sold off---to to-demons, tortured and-" Zandora didn't finish for she felt the slip, the great slip, that she had only felt once before. Everything around her became dark and she felt alone, and words of the brutes who had killed her and revived her everyday until she became nothing but a mindless slave, boomed in her ears.

She said nothing, she did nothing, she was nothing. She felt the heat of her consciousness as she snapped at herself. Wasn't she the Zandora? Wasn't she a mare who could never be touched by fear and laughed when it came near? No, she wasn't the anything. She was nothing.

Zandora's eyes blinked as she found herself looking around in a world where the wind was cool and the crickets played a melody of love. Everything seemed larger then before and she realized she had fallen, and slowly it all came back to her. 'What the hell had happened to her? Who the hell was this mare flooded by emotions and fear?' She thought confusedly. She raised her eyes to a cloven hoofed Ashamin, in what reflected within them was a pure

broken,

Zandora.


No longer could she hide. The devil had found the crack in her armor and oh how he would take his pence of revenge. There would be no more shadows to hide under, she was fully exposed, and fully unaware on how to save herself. Her time had come, and there was no way out.

OCC: I don't even know what to think about this. It's a lllll over the place, and I'm sorry if you have a hard time reading this. I think I finally settled into her character and know how I'm going to play her from here on out. I hope this is okay, I know it's very dramatic, but it sort of happened and I just went with it.
Tag: @[Ashamin]
Speech

Julieta on Arkana

[/quote]
[Image: 56a075b49df35]
No restrictions on things that can happen to Zandora, please tag in first posts only.

Ashamin the Clovenheart Posts: 426
Outcast atk: 8 | def: 11.5 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 HH :: 5 [Frostfall] HP: 79 | Buff: NUMB
Lochan :: Plain Cerndyr :: Dark Mist & Rakt :: Common Cerndyr :: Starpast Jen
#10

Is your pain

the same as mine?

let me touch you

bring you something

you can't find

let me see you

show you something,

grief divine.

The last thing Ashamin had expected from this mare was such an open outpouring of emotion. Then again, the buck was learning quickly that it was a waste of time to form expectations. Helovia was a land of magic and... emotion. Everyone here seemed to feel quite a bit, and have a lot to say.

It wasn't that it was unnerving, it was just not what he was used to. Not, when he had first entered that threshold of wood, what he had expected. It was beginning to rub off on him.

It was true he hadn't given this mare much, but he remembered how, with fervency, he had revealed his inner sorrow to Einarr, and taken comfort in that massive stallion's bold wings. He had taken comfort in that great beast's feathers capes, the first he had ever seen, and he wondered now if he'd ever find that night's shadow again.

But Zandora was who drew his attention now. He watched as she spoke in broken tones, seeming to come apart at the seams as her tale wore on, even in its brevity. Little child... was she talking to him, or herself? He noticed the nervousness with she seemed to speak, and was surprised to see it in her.

Ashamin stepped forward and up. The moment she could no longer speak, he found a strength in himself that was anything but what he expected. She had rejected him before, and perhaps she would reject him again, but he knew how he would feel if he were in her place, and he knew what he would want.

Carefully, gently, he extended his face once more with a murmur: "I'm sorry, Zandora."

I'm sorry for the depth of your pain.

And I feel it, too.

His tail swung low behind him, and the rock in his horn rattled as he moved closer to her. This that she felt was a pain like his, this that she was learning of was something he had known for so long, now. This was something he could comfort, and something he could maybe, understand.

[[@[Zandora]--sorry for the simple post and the bit of a wait, but I wanted to get this to you quick]]
Ashamin
on his own

rainydoll-stock | webtreatsetc | larfsalot
on deviantart


See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
Do not tag me, please message on skype instead


Zandora Posts: 85
Outcast atk: 7.0 | def: 10 | dam: 3.0
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15 HH :: 7 years HP: 60.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Evara :: Black Leopard :: None ShadowMare
#11
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Zandora felt odd. Her sudden exposure and loss of armor was unsettling. She couldn't believe that she had broken, she was made of fire and ice, not soft blubber, what had happened to her? She could feel the beat of her heart, the strange rhythmical pound that vibrated through her small body. She didn't realize till now, but she had never heard the sound of her own heart, she had always knew it was there, always knew that it beated, but never heard the sound.

She let the moment of awe pass over for a short minute as the air around her seemed to grow tenser. Was this what exposure felt like? Her skin felt raw and bare, as if she had been ripped away from all that she knew which was hiding. Zandora kept her broken eyes on Ashamin as all these feelings continued to rush through her, surging at a pace that would never stop. This how life was going to be now.

Pained.

Her ears that had been laid back with an obvious scared look about them, twisted forward as the scenery around her seemed to blur away. She watched as Ashamin reached out to her, then suddenly, Zandora felt less bare and more comfortable. He hadn't given up on her, he hadn't abandoned her like every other she had come to love(which was few) Ashamin had stayed. The mare who had ran away from every bump in life, every fear, every worry, every emotion closed her eyes as a beautiful tragedy unfolded. She then reached out too, stepping forward and embracing Ashamin with all she had, her horned head wrapping around his neck. A seldom tear slipped down her face, and at this moment Zandora let go, and took a breath of relief. The next few months would not be easy, but Zandora would be okay, and Ashamin had helped her realize this,

she would be okay.

Stepping away from the first embrace she had ever experienced since before the day, Zandora faintly smiled at the stallion who had somehow pulled her heart strings and didn't run when he witnessed what lied beyond her pupilless purple lanterns. "Don't be sorry my dear Ashamin, this is my burden that I have no desire for you to carry. I don't want pity, I did this to myself, just let this be an example; don't run away from who you are." She said in soft and quiet chords.

Attempting to lift the eerie mood, she raised her head and chuckled slightly "Now enough about my mistakes, what about that spar?" She said with a childish twinkle in her eye, if she had one thing to look forward too, it would be this practice battle with her new found friend.



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No restrictions on things that can happen to Zandora, please tag in first posts only.

Ashamin the Clovenheart Posts: 426
Outcast atk: 8 | def: 11.5 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 HH :: 5 [Frostfall] HP: 79 | Buff: NUMB
Lochan :: Plain Cerndyr :: Dark Mist & Rakt :: Common Cerndyr :: Starpast Jen
#12

Neither of us

would be ready for this

Neither of us

know our pain

Let us control

the fates twisting within

And then we can meet once again.


The embrace was sudden, and it jolted Ashamin back into his senses. He had said so little, and yet she had understood. That had been all he had wanted, from her or from anyone. It was a relief for her, perhaps, to let loose her emotions and let that tear drip down her cheek. He felt it fall in between his withers; he shivered at the sensation. It was a relief for him too, though, to finally not have to speak.

And so he remained in that silent moment, that thankful quiet, for as long as she would have it. And he kept his black eyes open and searching, while hers pressed out tears to fall upon him. He looked at the trees and their slowing, bittersweet sap. He looked at the way the wind caught their branches and pulled them back towards the trunks. This was a moment of peace, and he would do nothing to break it.

So when Zandora did pull away, he felt even more startled than he had when she had come closer. In so brief a time he had grown used to that touch, and wanted more of it. His tail traced lines behind him in the earth, and his hollow eyes caught Zandora's. How odd that the both of them had no central core that could be found. Her words were heavy, and they weighed him down with their import.

But he wasn't prepared to answer them, not yet, and so he only looked away. She continued and his ears caught the faint traces of her words: of her offer for a spar. But this was not a time when he could fight, and he sensed the same might be true of the mare. If she could, well, perhaps she should consider a holiday.

Ashamin lifted his gaze slightly and smiled at Zandora. His dear Zandora, as she was apparently his dear Ashamin. "Take some time, Zandora. The both of us might need some rest, some..." he trailed off, suddenly nervous even when in the company of a newfound friend. Some time to think," he finished with a nod of self-assurance. "We can meet here again, and soon," he offered, starting to walk towards her, his side threatening to brush hers as he passed. Distance pulled between them, and Ashamin's figure surpassed Zandora's darker, less natural coat. It was in part anxiousness that increased the gap between their figures now, but politeness forced him to finish his thought, just as he started to fade into the treeline: "and then we can have that spar."

[[@[Zandora]--Cause of his timeline I'm not going to have it set directly after but we can close it off here or with one more post and I'll make the spar right now.]]
Ashamin
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