the Rift


[OPEN] No Thing Is Everything

Himitsu Posts: 6
Up For Adoption
Filly :: Unicorn :: 15.3hh :: 2 years old [Birdsong Birthday]
Adoptable
#1
Tell me sky! Tell me.. tell me all. Send down your winds to whisper in my ear. Would they speak of sweet nothings, or would they be as frigid as the steppe?

I wandered away from the herd Tora and I had searched for with such devotion. In doing so I wandered from my twin herself. Devotion runs thickly through my veins and I wonder if I should return; but who is to say that devotion always has to be dedicated to something else? Why can't I take time away to be devoted to myself?

I do not see any reason why I can't. With my current mood any that try to say otherwise may learn the advantage I was given in my deformity. My trio of horns are stained red by the setting sun. I am a silhouette framed by the sun's vibrantly colored departure.

Sleepless nights plague me. Thoughts that are too faint to make anything of anchor me to the ever wakeful state. Every night from dusk to dawn I try to make sense of nothings and in doing so I suppose that the nothings find sense in me and therefore stick around. Oh how they hover over me! Even now as the sun sets, sinking slowly, the nothing thoughts begin to gather. From every direction they slink towards me.

The warmth of my breaths passes across my lips and makes room for the cold air to rush in. In my lungs it sits, taking safe harbor before fleeing once more. Hot. Cold. Hot. Cold. Hot. Cold. With my increasing heart rate my breath also quickens until I feel as if all of my warmth has been expelled into the air around me with only cold to live off of.

I am everything. I am nothing at all. I am the unknown.

The young can only be so for so long. I can feel myself clutching, in vain, to whatever child may still exist inside of me.

My ears flick back at the sound of another round of snowfall.

I run.

I race.

.. I laugh.

The sound is strange. It brings me to a sliding halt. The sound of my own laughter is like a barrier. After the death, the slaying, of my mother how can I laugh so freely? My lips clamp tight in fear of what may escape them. Would it be more laughter? Sobs? Or would I shatter the night with the sound of my rage?

Ears pinned and head bowed I am lost to my thoughts. I am lost to my demons.

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




I can never know this
I can never know your pain
Either light or dark remains but
I can never know this
I'll never know your pain




Lochan had woken a little earlier than usual, in part at Ashamin's insistence. There is still sun to see, the painted buck had urged with a grin. Come, we must spend at least some time in this dying light.

Dying light. How fitting, after the dream the stallion had grappled with the night prior. Ashamin was lucky he did not remember its horrors, yet. He would have been thankful, had he known what he was missing in his memory.

Time would fill that gap for him, but for Lochan the dream was still real, still there, and still very much a nightmare. Maybe that was why the cerndyr rose to follow Ashamin, now. Maybe the thought of harm coming to his bonded in that dying light of day spurred him forth to follow and wake, even in the day that stained his eyes with spots of exhaustion.

The journey out into the steppe was brief, given the proximity of the Haruspex's cave to the border, and they were just able to catch the glimmer of the sun setting behind the mountains in the distance of the steppe. Ashamin nickered to his inexplicably glum companion, nudging him with the soft velvet of his own nose. Was this not Lochan's first clear sight of the sunset? And the painting of red on the white sheets of ice, was that not a beautiful sight?

But Lochan, three eyes scrunched, saw only blood on the water. He turned, as if to return to the Basin and sleep, with his head low and his young heart already so heavy.

But Ashamin was quicker. His black eyes had surveyed the scene as Lochan had begun his departure, and the haruspex had just enough speed in him to note and call out to the filly in the distance before gripping Lochan's scruff gently in his teeth and placing him among the tinder scraps in his sarong.

"Young one, hello there!"

Though distance lay between them, he could tell that the figure's small size was not due to the gap. She was young--just a child, wandering in the steppe. He wasn't about to let that happen without any sort of supervision, particularly not as night and--he shuddered--wolves approached with such speed. Ashamin quickened his pace, ignoring the kicking of Lochan struggling against his chest. Already the cenrdyr's legs hung over the edges of the cloth, too long and gangly for their container. The haruspex grew closer to the filly in the distance, seeing the silhouettes of three horns from behind and watching as they and the sound of laughter faded and lowered into a position of mournful repose.

It was only when he drew closer that he saw her face and the curse she had been born with. Blindness: three horns, young grace, and the darkness of never seeing this red-white world of snow.

""

[[@[Himitsu] YOU ARE STUCK WITH ME I LOVE YOUR CHARS NO SHAME]]


Ashamin

Given All I've Been Through

image credits


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


Himitsu Posts: 6
Up For Adoption
Filly :: Unicorn :: 15.3hh :: 2 years old [Birdsong Birthday]
Adoptable
#3
HIMITSU
got a secret, can you keep it




There is no enthusiasm in my movement as I turn, "Ikaw mosulti kanako." I assume it is me that the voice calls to. "Però sóc jo el que dius?" I suddenly feel drained by my run. Childhood is a fleeting creature that I cannot catch. It is exhausting to chase after ghosts. Maybe my attempt to do so only served to show I am still no more than a mere child. "M'agradaria ser un nen?"

"Do you?.." How curious this is. With practiced ease I switch back to the common tongue. "Do you worry for me?" Husky laughter lilts from my throat, "Tell me.. Why do you?" A small smirk upturns my top lip as if I had just dangled the most difficult riddle before him. What will his answer be? Why does a stranger take time to worry for another he does not know? Especially in this time of year when one is quite often consumed in worry for themselves.

I take a deep breath in to learn more of the stallion. My ears suddenly shoot forward with eagerness that tells of my age. What is that strange smell upon him? It is one I have never smelt before. The smell is certainly the musky smell of a living creature, but what?

"Are you a mountain spirit?" It is a question soft with childish wonder, but with the cutting edge of forced early maturity. Tora and I had often listened to our mother's frivolous tales of the spirits and god's that live in all of the lands. "You smell like nothing I have met before." Some of the spirits in her stories had nearly god-like knowledge. I start to bring to light the question I almost don't wish to ask; why was I born like this?

Ikaw mosulti kanako. || You speak to me.
Però sóc jo el que dius || But am I what you say?
M'agradaria ser un nen? || Do I remain a child?
@[Ashamin]

Image by Carlospics @ flickr

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




We aren't speaking the same language
I have a larger vocabulary
you have a grander intellect.

If we were to meet on a battlefield of wits,
would my kindness kill you?
Or cripple you, gaslike,
down in the trenches of empty seeing?



Lochan had woken a little earlier than usual, in part at Ashamin's insistence. There is still sun to see, the painted buck had urged with a grin. Come, we must spend at least some time in this dying light.

Mere moments after his arrival by her side Ashamin heard the filly speak, and in a tongue he did not, could not, recognize. Each word, foreign in its making, had a pleasant lilt to it. He was drawn to the rhythm, and found himself wanting to hear her speak in such a way for so much longer than he did.

But he knew, when the moment was over and her language was replaced swiftly with his, that the moment had to have been a fleeting one. How could it have been so sweet, otherwise? His large ears tilted and his breath wandered away from him, hot and drawing closer to the filly. Would she feel it?

"You speak a beautiful language," the Haruspex said softly. Ashamin would cherish it. As he looked down at Lochan, who reached out with such a boldness to touch the filly whose nose drew quite close to his own, he knew that this sunset would be one to remember.

Her question was surprising only because of its wisdom--her tone, for the same reason. But Ashamin did his best to shake his shock from his expression, even knowing that she could not see it. He would do the same for anyone, and he knew that if he looked nervous or surprised, he could very well sound it, too.

"I worry for anyone wandering the steppe this late at night," he said plainly, suddenly aware of how his voice might sound to her. Was it high or low? And what would she picture from it? He straightened and cleared his throat almost silently, wondering if she would hear even that shift. Would she perceive him as self conscious, prideful, or rightfully strong? "You are no exception, young one," he added quietly, realizing he couldn't stop his voice from shaking even now when he tried so hard.

Lochan seemed to have no fear of the filly with the many horns. Not that Ashamin did either, but, well, he wasn't as sure how to react as Lochan seemed to be. The cerndyr had reached out and now parted his lips to breathe, soft, and bray ever so slightly. A mountain spirit. Surely it must have been Lochan this filly was sensing: Lochan, deer-marked young beast of the night. "I am no mountain spirit, child. Merely Ashamin, the haruspex of the Aurora Basin and a unicorn like yourself. Perhaps it is my cerndyr companion whom you are smelling?"

His long tail wound about itself and flicked, its awkward stringy hairs catching in the wind. He felt suddenly aware of how he was treating this filly. Was it any different than how he would treat another? He thought to Zahra, who had saved him in his time of need and now wandered alone, without his company. How had he let her leave like that, how had they even parted ways? It was difficult for the painted buck to remember.

But now it was night, in perhaps Helovia's sector, and the child he faced was one with a hindrance. Perhaps he did treat her differently, it could have been so. But never, never, would he treat her with any less kindness.

""

[[@[Himitsu]. 100 POSTS WHOOT!]]


Ashamin

Given All I've Been Through

image credits


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



Forum Jump:


RPGfix Equi-venture