the Rift


Three comes before four...

Xira Posts: 67
Up For Adoption atk: 5.5 | def: 9 | dam: 5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.2 hh :: 7 HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE
Kye :: Red-Footed Falcon :: Read Adoptable
#1
"I wanted that," the moss-roan mare hissed bitterly as the stranger stepped forward so inconsiderately to intercept her subtle manoeuvring. Vivid eyes, seething and indignant, passed briefly across both mare and the stallion, before Xira turned with an unfurling wingspan and slipped into the air. Undoubtedly she had misinterpreted these new wooded foothills - they were nothing like the old - and horses seemed to pop-up right wherever she wanted to slither by undetected. They were like ants upon the dead, incessant little pests that seemed to cover every square inch of this patch. Irritating...

She would scout a little more thoroughly next time, and take her time. Obviously, she was out of practice (evidently she needed more). The small moss-roan wheeled sharply this way and that, dodging trees and their interwoven branches until she had breached the fluttering canopy altogether. Xira gained momentum quickly thereafter and lifted ever higher until she had reached the point of Kye's lofty elevation. The falcon had been monitoring the situation carefully, though even her keen eyes had been no match for the show of force below. Together they turned south until their flightpath drew along a clean line towards the familiar Threshold.

Cunning eyes glared down upon the spindly, sparse tips of the weathered old trees. Xira had absolutely no desire to fall again upon its stinking soil, waste another day of her life swanning amid hordes of weary travellers. The whiners and the wounded; self-entitled victims and those in between, who sought only to win themselves favour by adding numbers to pointlessly sociable herd-groups... she scoffed bluntly, loudly, and her lungs filled with crisp evening air as she drew another long breath. No. The curly-coated mare had no interest in their mundane way of life, no need for righteous leaders and spineless peons. She would not fall into their trap again - well, not without a bloody good reason. There were other priorities, and thought of them shattered the cynical pinch which had overwhelmed her expression...

The roots of Earth's flower had through the years delved beneath the thick canvasing carpet of her hair. Perhaps it was for that reason alone it had weathered her aimless wandering so well - Xira had cared for it diligently though. It sailed through the brisk autumn air above, caught in the drag of its host's swift journey, but many petals remained regardless and still it didn't wilt. Do you remember the way? Kye pried, curious, because she certainly did not herself. The mare's striking eyes closed momentarily, before she sighed heavily, no, and dipped down her wings. I suppose we cannot avoid this place then, their bond murmured impatiently.

Xira sank quickly beneath the towering tree tops, while Kye hovered above - as she normally did - watching with cunning raptor awareness all that was happening below. The area was putrid, just as the Pegasus remembered, reeking of horse and littered with all the waste they'd left behind. Broad nostrils rattled loudly, as she waited, confident that there would be somebody nearby, anticipating her arrival; or that of anybody who might potentially build numbers in a herd.



@[Laedere]

Laedere Posts: 84
Hidden Account
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.3hh :: 5 years old (Frostfall birthday)
Ardere :: Plain Dolphin Leviathan :: Boil Abba
#2
Laedere
❈ when you go home everything looks different ❈
This 'threshold' was going to make Laedere claustrophobic. The way she had to pull her wings in even tighter than usual for fear that they may snag against a tree only increased the tightness and stress upon her frame. Still, she moved forward for one more trek through the forest with Ardere in front of her and this fire-stag right beside her. Aye, he was harmless. The flames had licked her pelt many-a-times and it had yet to burn her, or set the foliage that it moved across ablaze.

But why was she doing this? Oh, she didn't even know. Her brain was still a mess. She was still struggling to figure out just what purpose she could serve for their herd. She couldn't fly, and she wasn't a fighter. While she loved knowledge, she didn't believe in stealing. It was a woman's place to care for the young, to help build up the church, and keep track of the past. But, did the Throat even have a church? What section kept watch over the young? What section kept track of the past? Oh, it was confusing her. So, for now she would just keep going back to the Threshold and trying to assist those who were lost. Right? Okay. Yeah. That's exactly what she would do.

It was Ardere who brought another winged creature to her attention. Small, much like Laedere was, and they even dawned a green coat. Like mine kin… she thought to herself - not having a clear image of her lineage in Pompeii but her mind instantly recognizing the colouration. She moves forward at a relatively quick pace, the stag breaking forth first to stand near this other pegasus. "Aye. Good-day to ye! Might mineself be of assistance?" she inquires, a gentle smile radiating across her face as she continued to wonder whether or not this one before her was part of the family she had always been searching for. And, Ardere pulled forth as well - floating just beside Laedere's neck - clicking in joy, believing that the stranger could possibly be a new friend.


"Laedere speaking." | Thoughts/others speaking.

<3


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Xira Posts: 67
Up For Adoption atk: 5.5 | def: 9 | dam: 5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.2 hh :: 7 HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE
Kye :: Red-Footed Falcon :: Read Adoptable
#3

Xira
Stealers, keepers. Losers, weepers.

Oh look Kye, too easy! Xira made no effort to disguise the hard roll of her striking, peacock-blue eyes - what did she care about first impressions? What did she care about anyone in this world…? Her small olive ears buried themselves backwards into the thick, wild toss of her mane, presenting a front that was neither particularly aggressive, nor receptive.

Right on cue another had materialised through the timber, alight, flames dancing about a rather regal antlered face and if she’d had a brow at all, it would have quirked the very moment the creature paused. Behind it swam a fish out of water and a horse with wings who wasn’t nearly so interesting as the company she kept. Different…? came quiet word from above. Even Kye had dipped lower to view the unlikely trio as they’d approached her standing bonded. Ridiculous you mean… the bemused mare retorted, snorting sharply in the stag’s general direction - perhaps she could blow it out.

A merry rush of nonsense followed the ostentatious arrival and instantly Xira’s narrowed eyes switched to the green-tinged mare who had uttered it. Green ay? “Who’re you then?” she probed flatly before turning her attention again to the deer. “…and what’s with him?” Of course she understood companions, bonds… animals chained to animals. That was not the point. The tribe wasn’t making a whole lot of sense really - in fact, they were a rather contradictory bunch - an unhealthy combination of water, fire and air. Except the water component seemed perfectly content with its strandedness… The rusty frizz of mane draped along her poll flapped as she shook her small stocky skull - evidently struggling with the blatant absurdity of the situation.

None of this mattered in the long run…

The fish clicked and carried on where it hovered by the neck of the pallid horse and Xira had half a mind to treat her faithful falcon friend a fine flubber banquet. Thoroughly entertained, and tempted too by the flicker of her bonded’s thought, Kye’s splitting call descended. She fluttered into the forked arms of an oak nearby to watch the proceedings unfold.
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Laedere Posts: 84
Hidden Account
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.3hh :: 5 years old (Frostfall birthday)
Ardere :: Plain Dolphin Leviathan :: Boil Abba
#4
Laedere
❈ when you go home everything looks different ❈
Aye, she a little bit of an angry creature now wasn't she? There was a sharp snort in the direction of Laedere's fire stag - and the stag only has the fire move in that direction. It never went out, never got weaker - simply stared at the mare who had snorted his way. As Laedere asked if she could help, the other green mare narrowed her eyes which had shot straight toward her. An inquiry as to who she was, and what was with this fire stag before shaking her skull indignantly.

"Tis a creation of thine soul, gift from thee God of Sun." Laedere explains - not knowing how much longer these creations would be following around the Throat members. "Mineself tis dawned Laedere - and thine dolphin tis dawned Ardere. We hail from thee Throat…" she started to explain, audits still perked forward. Aye, how she still clung ignorantly to the hope that this mare hailed from Pompeii - that some long lost form of family had stumbled into her grasps. "Ye might be?"

But it wasn't true, was it? This mare was not from Pompeii - had not seen the ash and lava cover the skies, bury her people. She shifted back and forth, "Ardere, hush thineself," she instructed to her companion who immediately stopped the incessant clicking. Still, with the descent of the falcon she had no desire to have her own companion become some kind of meal. So she stood, head tilted a little to the side, still wondering if she could be of assistance. Hopeful, ever hopeful. She just wanted family, and even if this one didn't speak as she did... she would pray.



"Laedere speaking." | Thoughts/others speaking.

ooc goes hurr.


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Knox Posts: 262
Outcast atk: 4 | def: 7.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17hh :: 7 Years [Tallsun] HP: 67.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Jen
#5

It has been a long time.

A long time since he has been here, a long time, it feels, since he has been anywhere. More than a year since he put Helovia at his back--more than a year since he conquered the border of the Threshold, Aylin and Manhattan his steady companions, and headed home. Home to Isilme, the land of his father, the land of lost promises. And then, after so long searching for some sign of life, for something more than the dark destruction of the shadows, he journeyed further. Back to another home, the first home: the home of the Old Country, where his ancestors had been born and where all but one of them had died. That was a home of sorrow: of crumbling stone castles and haunting, bearded creatures blending into the woodwork. The home of imps and deceit, of death and so much costly revenge.

But now, Knox, the son of the Sentinel, has returned. After so long a time away, after over a year of aging, over a year of growing stronger in body and mind, he has come home. He walks into the forest of the threshold with a cloak of light and shadow draped over the images of him and his companion. He stands and strides tall, Manhattan at his side, eternally his bonded.

Aylin is gone. She is lost to some dark night, some silent Orangemoon wind. And Knox cannot bear to think of her--cannot bring himself to contemplate the absence of his delicate, kind-hearted friend. More than a year brought them close, and then one silent evening tore them apart.

He thinks he will never know why. His ancestors tell him, all in hushed, practiced, tamed voices, that he should not wonder. Wondering leads to knowing, and knowing is the pain of it all. But they are nothing but facts: memories of a past he lives in the present. He becomes through them, and under the light of these dying oak and maple trees, a shadow.

Manhattan trots at his side, the corpse of a bird betwixt her black jowls. Blood and poison drip from her fangs. She senses her bonded's buried concern as he stops and lifts herself. Her black paws, rough and calloused from what seems to her to have been a century of walking, press eagerly against his forearms. She offers him the remains of the sparrow--so small, so delicate, so hopelessly deceased--but he declines with a gentle click of his tongue and a mental assurance: finders keepers, Hatta.

Perhaps he has simply lost his appetite for some things. It is enough for Manhattan to take herself away from her master. She bites down, pushing the bones through the flesh and scattering feathers in her wake. Their only trail: an evidence of death.

Up ahead, the light changes. Knox catches sight of orange on green, of floating creatures of the sea and flaming beasts of the wood. In his mind, his father chuckles at the sight of a deer.

Duh yuh rumumber the time that busturd set me un fire?
Yes father, I remember.
And duh yuh rumumber the picturr uf me in yur head, sun, of yur futhur, the black stag?
Yes father, I do.
Yuh wuld huve been proud of me, sun.
I still am, Roanne.

The mind quiets. Knox watches, his blue eyes empty, his heart cold. He is home now, he has come to terms with who he is, and who his ancestors were. Manhattan stifles a growl at her master's command: she is hesitant, fearful of returning to a land where she saw so much horror--horror at the hooves of her master's family, beneath the paws of her own sister Loretta. Out there, in Isilme, in the Old Country, the horror had a terrifying face. Here she knows it appears as a friend. Knox has only just learned this: only come to find who he must hate, and how few he is able to trust. This is a lesson he has learned out of necessity, and one he has learned well.

The pair stand together, Manhattan close to her beloved to remain under his cloak, and Knox watching the interactions of the pair of emerald Pegasi with a tilted head. He notes the hostility of the smaller of the pair--the hawk in the trees, the heavy accent that drips from the bandaged mare. And through it all, through his perception that filters through the eyes of so many ancient ones long dead, Manhattan watches him with care. She is worried he will forget what time, travel, and a friend have all taught him. She is worried that here, in this threshold to the land they were born in, he will once more become cold.

Then again: it has been a long time.




[[ ((!!!)) @[Xira], @[Laedere]; Permission to cloak, full permissions for Xira.]]
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