the Rift


[OPEN] stitches don't heal all wounds

Dröm Posts: 114
Hidden Account atk: 7 | def: 10.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Equine :: 14.3hh :: 5 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
baylee
#1
Dröm ♞
She didn't know where her hooves were taking her, nor did she have a clue as to what she was going, seeing, living. Dröm was about as content as a fish out of water. Her past few months have been more than traumatizing for the small healer. She had (tried) to participate in defending her home from invaders, only to grow fearful and run in terror. Later, she learned that her home was no longer hers, but Edge's. The thought that she could so easily lose her home like that once more made her hesitant to even look for a place she could live. Her fragile spirit broke further with every mention of fighting. What would she do if she lost her home to another invasion? After she had been outed by the new Fall-dwellers, she attempted to steal the lead, Kaj, or rather, one of his possessions. He quickly retaliated, brutally challenging the mare, not considering the fact that she may have had trauma from the invasion that had happened only days prior. As a prisoner of her old home, she grew depressed, starved herself and more. Eventually, though, Kaj told her she could leave after Frostfall, deciding that would be an appropriate sentence for the thief-healer. Now to the present, a luke-warm Birdsong day filled with the clatter of chirping birds in the canopy of green above her head.

The area was too serene for the chaos she felt within.

A shriek escaped her chrome-marked lips as her hoof got caught on a above-ground root. Quickly, the Arabian fell to her knees, then stomach, throwing her body slightly foward between two trees. At first she was uncomfortable, stuck between two trees, her fat belly wedged between the trunks, thoroughly stuck. After about a minute, she gave up standing, instead she moved her snout around, teeth searching for grass. Yes, Dröm was stuck in an uncomfortable position, but that would never stop her from eating the surrounding grass. Her green cloak covered her back, hiding most of her copper coat. She blended into the scenery well, so well that it would rise the statement, "Maybe she is meant to stay there, a woodland decoration."

Splayed on the ground behind her, was her mass of unruly, blonde, curls, accented by one of Hector's reddish-orange feathers. Her mane was equally as beautifully untameable, however less visible as it wasn't splayed all over the ground.

After another couple of minutes of eating the closest blades of grass, she noticed everything grow darker. The sun was setting, painting a beautiful spectrum of colors in the sky. Dröm could not see the sky clearly though, the thickly leafed trees blocking most of the sky. Still, a few rays managed to seep through the holes in the canopy, bathing all that ray touches in golden-orange highlights. It would be beautiful if Dröm wasn't very much stuck. She tried to stand, to push herself onto her legs, but it was little use. Every movement caused the bark to viciously scratch at her side, bite at her sensitive flanks.

So she did what she knows, and begins nibbling on the grass again.

"chatting."
shoot for the s t a r s
Image Credit

@Lace caution shes the biggest dork ever
[Image: 53d6f2ea9010d]
pixel by baylee

Lace the Silverthorn Posts: 459
Deceased atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 15.3 hh :: 14 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Fajira :: Plain White Dragon :: Fire Breath Chan
#2
Lace the Silverthorn
It is our actions that define who we are


Every inch of his body hurt. Even though the sleek coat was unbroken and whole save for a few scars, he felt the trace of battle in his bones. It was a dull ache that crept up on him as the warmth of daylight faded, reminding him of the years he had lived. They were increasing every so slowly, piling one upon the other until the memories of childhood became washed out and faded, less clear than they had been. Once he had known only too well the impatient throb of hot blood within the veins, felt the burn of the loins and pined for honor, glory, eternity...

But while the years had ceased to show upon his hide, Lace found it harder to recall things he had once taken for granted. Like the humiliation of a battle lost, or how awkward he once had found it to share his feelings with others. Other things seemed more important now, and where he meandered through the dusky woods the injuries of body and pride was set aside for more pressing concerns.

"But what is a secure place?" he argued aloud, attention focused for the most part on the dragon that flitted lazily by his side. "I take it he meant a herd land, but I can't think of any who'd accept me just for this."

"Don't need moon-sun-earth-flash nest. I will guard." A small tongue of flame lit up the shadows in a flash to underline her statement, but Lace shook his head.

"I know you will, but I'm not sure it will be enough. I'm sure he will find ways to test me, and no matter how good we are, we can't fight off an entire pack of wolves on our..."

"What is it?"


The dragon didn't answer but beat her wings with more force and sped up ahead. She had spotted something, and though he was curious Lace knew better than to push her for an answer. He sensed no alarm in her, only intrigue, and so he kept strolling along until he felt the familiar prod of her thoughts.

"Four-leg earthling. Trapped."

Lace frowned and picked up the pace at once, following the internal map of images the dragon sent to him. As though in afterthought he kindled a sun and let it hover by his shoulder, its light and warmth flooding the woods and turning night into day where he passed. Fajira came to meet him when he arrived, her voice a soft warble as she circled once over his head; then she swooped back and landed on a branch, playful curiosity glittering in the pale blue eyes as she gazed down on something on the ground. He let the small sun rise higher into the air, blinking in surprise as he studied the creature before him.

Didn't he know this person? It was a mare, wasn't it, hidden behind that green cloth. There was definitely something familiar about her, but he couldn't quite place where he ought to have met her. Something that had to do with roses...

But that would have to wait.

"Are you alright?" the silver-coated stallion asked kindly, keeping the voice soft and soothing so that he wouldn't startle her - Fajira had probably already taken care of that. "I might be able to help you, if you so wish."

There was no trace of humor in his words, but inwardly Lace had to smile at the predicament. How the doe had managed to trap herself like that he didn't know, but it had to be both uncomfortable and embarrassing... It looked like she had made it through the winter a bit too well.


Picture by Vossity


@Dröm
BronzeHalo.deviantart.com
♦ Permission granted to use magic and violence on Lace and Fajira
♦ Only tag in new threads, spars and if it's urgent
The Store | The Warden

Dröm Posts: 114
Hidden Account atk: 7 | def: 10.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Equine :: 14.3hh :: 5 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
baylee
#3
Dröm ♞

The oncoming sounds of hooves and murmurs from what she assumed to be a single horse were noticed, but she did little to call the horse's attention to her. Whether it was out of embarrassment or some other emotions she felt, she stayed silent, eyes growing wider as the sound of leaves crunching under hooves grew louder and louder. Frantic with the approach of another, she held her breath, hoping he'd continue so that she could get out of this herself. Wide eyes grew twice as wide as she spots a strange white dragon, watching her. Then there is a horse there too, watching with worry. 

His familiar face was recognized instantaneously. This stallion had been one of the first horses she had encountered, and he had thoroughly freaked her out and mentioned that maybe Helovia wasn't the place for her. Maybe he had been right. Did she truly enjoy being here like she once had? She was a fat, homeless, mare with no company, save for the occasional meeting with a stranger. "Lace?!" She questioned in her thick Swedish lilt, elegant voice covering up the accusation she had aimed to place into her voice. She didn't have time to remain confused, or mortified by her position, instead a feminine giggle left her lips along with a long sigh. What had she been reduced to?

"You can help me," she began, eyes cast downwards, a large grin placed on the dual-toned lips. "You can teach me how to keep my figure," she concluded, caramel eyes crinkling as her grin doubles in width. She wanted to make another remark to him, perhaps mentioning their last meeting, which he has clearly forgotten because he is does not seem the least bit worried she will bite his ass for trapping her in their last meeting.

The Arab has changed a great deal, though. Her first meeting with Lace had seemed bad at the time, but the ex-Storyteller had bigger problems now. "Why am I always stuck around you?" She murmurs softly, dulcet accent quieting her words further. Does he remember her now?

She did not wait for an answer, instead quickly moving along with the conversation. "Help would be fantastic right about now, Silverthorn." She vaguely recalls setting him off by calling him Mr. Silverthorn. Now that she isn't timid nor afraid, she may just want to piss him off, see how far he goes before he snaps. Honestly, life could not get worse for the mare at this point. What could he even do to her to make things worse in her life? Friendless and alone, would anyone even look for a body if Lace snapped her neck and she never returned? Would anyone even notice her absence?

"chatting."
shoot for the s t a r s
Image Credit
[Image: 53d6f2ea9010d]
pixel by baylee

Lace the Silverthorn Posts: 459
Deceased atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 15.3 hh :: 14 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Fajira :: Plain White Dragon :: Fire Breath Chan
#4
Lace the Silverthorn
It is our actions that define who we are


Charcoal lips twitched in the face of her witty reply, and there was a new gleam of amusement to the honeyed eyes as he approached the lady. He couldn't really say that he perfectly recalled everything about whatever meeting they'd had - her name was gone with the wind, as was the reason why she had been trapped that time - but something told Lace that this reaction to his presence was a lot more strange than her knowing his name.

"Alright, stay still then", he said. The chiseled head tilted slightly as he regarded the trees, a rather business like expression settling over the features. If she had expected him to fire up over the old title, he would have to leave her disappointed; Lace barely noticed it this time.

A deep breath was followed by a focused, intense silence as he reached out into the trees with his mind. The seasons had changed and all around him the forest was waking up. Sap rose and streamed throughout trunk and root, branch and budding leaf, making the materials soft and supple, flexible and incredibly pliable. It was a sheer joy to shape it; with a slight smile on his lips the former craftsman bent the wood that trapped the lady out of the way so that the grip around her generous waist gave away. Once she were free and well out of the way he elegantly returned the trees to their original shape, sparing her the embarrassment of seeing the faintly O shaped curvature should she ever pass by again.

"There you go, that should feel better. No fee, I'll be here until Tallsun, tell all your family and friends..." He gave her a slight wink and grinned.

"Now, my dear, how did you end up in such a state?" It wasn't quite clear whether he meant the generous figure or the predicament, but at least the concern as he inched closer to check whether she was hurt seemed genuine. "They tell me it was a harsh winter this year. I'm glad to see you look well."

Fajira warbled from her perch in the tree above, her scales glittering in the light of the pocket sized sun and a clear tone of irony to the trill. The stallion smirked, but chose not to repeat what the little queen had said; some things were better left unsaid.


Picture by Vossity


@Dröm
BronzeHalo.deviantart.com
♦ Permission granted to use magic and violence on Lace and Fajira
♦ Only tag in new threads, spars and if it's urgent
The Store | The Warden

Dröm Posts: 114
Hidden Account atk: 7 | def: 10.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Equine :: 14.3hh :: 5 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
baylee
#5
Dröm ♞

He tells her to stay still, and she does. Assuming the stallion is helping her, she complies easily. A huge part of her is hesitant about all of this, scared of him, but forcibly willed to comply due to her situation. He looks at the trees, no doubt wondering how the girl hadn't gotten stuck in such a strange place. Eventually, though, he does help.

The trees bend away from her plump belly, presumably following Lace's orders to do so. As soon as there is enough space for her to safely move away, she does. She scrambles forwards, not even worrying about the fact that she is basically crawling out of her spot in the trees. Rushing to her hooves, it becomes apparent that she isn't as fat as on may have thought. Though she carries a lot of  extra weight, it is not abnormal.

He concludes his magic with a statement that should be humorous, but it doesn't exactly touch Drom how it would someone else. "...tell all your family and friends..." The golden Arabian has no family, has no friends. Still, she covers up the wound his words reopen with a friendly smile. "Of course! Just wait, you'll have a line from here all the way to the Basin itself!" She says in an enthusiastic way, a way that only a mare good at covering this up could.

He moves the conversation to how she got in that position, eyes cast downwards in slight embarrassment. The reasoning behind the dragon's trill is a mystery to the girl, so she gives it little attention. Would it be awkward explaining this to a stallion she had thought was handsome from the beginning? "How did I get rather... plump? Well, you see," She was having a hard time explaining exactly the events that led up to this moment. "I was the Hidden Falls Storyteller, and for quite some time, too, but the World's Edge invaded and we were far from prepared. I lost my home and got... well, depressed." Her caramel eyes return to Lace's face as she continues. "I made a really dumb mistake and became prisoner of the Falls, a land filled with horses that had kicked me and my family out only weeks prior. Then, I stopped eating." She sighed. "I felt like.. I didn't have a place here, don't. I wanted to.. well, die." She shrugged awkwardly, shoulders rising in falling awkwardly. "Then I remembered I love food and over-indulged." A lazy grin morphs onto her features. "I look fat." She comments, carefree. "But, you know what? I'm really happy now." That's all that counts, right?

After that rather.. depressing, explanation, she quickly tries to change the topic. "And you, how are you?" She shoves her tapered maw forward, trying to bump Lace's whiskered snout. She didn't want to go deeper than what she has said, she hates depressing things, she hates telling people her problems, but she will listen to everyone else's, offer her shoulder for support.

"chatting."
shoot for the s t a r s
Image Credit
[Image: 53d6f2ea9010d]
pixel by baylee

Lace the Silverthorn Posts: 459
Deceased atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 15.3 hh :: 14 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Fajira :: Plain White Dragon :: Fire Breath Chan
#6
Lace the Silverthorn
It is our actions that define who we are


He laughed, but as she spoke the smile faded gradually until a serious, almost pained expression was all that remained. The stallion closed his eyes and let out a long, quiet sigh. Of course Nyx had told him about the invasion, but it was as though he hadn't fully understood the extent of it until now. Nothing ever made war as real as hearing the tales of suffering from a victim in person, and Dröm's tale was as grim as many he had heard.

"I'm sorry" he said quietly. "It must have been hard on you."

Of course, that should go without saying. Just looking at her dejected expression re-kindled an old ache in his chest, a familiar taste of guilt he'd carried around so long that it had become a part of him. If he had gone back to the Edge, if he had stayed when Kahlua asked him to, if he had only been there! Maybe this wouldn't have happened. The war, the pain, all of the blame thrown this way and that. What Mirage had started with the Qian had been toppled and destroyed, the peace crumbled and its members scattered by the wind. It seemed no more than a dream now, those precious years of tranquil calm, a fools hope and wishes...

Well. Then let him be a fool, because he would not stop dreaming.

"I know it might be hard to believe after all you have seen" Lace said, turning those warm golden eyes upon the young mare, "but the World's Edge used to be a much different herd. Once it had leaders that were kind and strong, leaders that loved peace and dreamed of balance. A fight for equality amongst all was what drove them to action, but they never longed for war."

He had always known that, even though at times Mirage had made him doubt her intentions. Why hadn't he understood that a dragon could never sit idly by while her weyr was under attack?

"I wish I could return to those days" he nearly whispered, old pain lacing visibly through his very being. "But it seems I'm the only one left who still remember what we stood for..."

He tried to smile at her again, but it came out as no more than a grimace. If only there had been more of them around, if only he'd forged stronger bonds with the rest of the Qian. Now it seemed that everyone he loved were gone.

Strange, how similar they were at that moment, she and him.


Picture by Vossity


@Dröm
BronzeHalo.deviantart.com
♦ Permission granted to use magic and violence on Lace and Fajira
♦ Only tag in new threads, spars and if it's urgent
The Store | The Warden

Dröm Posts: 114
Hidden Account atk: 7 | def: 10.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Equine :: 14.3hh :: 5 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
baylee
#7
Dröm ♞
I'm sorry, it must've been hard on you. It was. Harder than anything. To lose your home, then in an act of passion, become a prisoner in the lands you once loved was hard, devastatingly so. "Incredibly." He speaks of a World's Edge that desired peace and things the arab herself craved. How she would've loved a herd as such, one that made treaties instead of threats, allies instead of enemies. She wanted a herd that loved sharing and being kind and much more, but in a land as cruel as Helovia, it wouldn't last long. Peace dwindles, disappears and never returns. Many search for it, but it never returns.

Peace is about as steadfast as a flickering light, maybe it can go a little longer, continue trying to light the room, but eventually it is gone, leaving everything bathed in the shadows of darkness.

He confessed his desires for previous days, but the flaxen babe is skeptical it can be achieved. Peace has been horribly shattered, and a rag-tag team of once-peacekeepers will not restore balance in a crippled Helovia.

"This may sound incredibly naive, but..." she paused, hesitant. "Maybe you can re-create your herd? You can lead the new movement, restore the lost goals and dreams of the herd you once knew." She smiles sheepishly at him, caramel eyes watching for a reaction from the grullo beast with silver tresses and plant magic. "I can help you... If you need it." Would he do it? Was she looking at a future lead?

A peaceful revolution, everyone dreams about it, but it takes a big horse with bigger balls to actually start one. She quietly wonders now, could this stallion really do it? Was she absolutely insane for thinking that peace was at all achievable? A peace group didn't make much sense when she truly thought about it. If he did start this peace-group, they eventually have to invade a herd because they cannot survive in the wilds. That's the first war. To spread peace through all of Helovia, they'd then have to conquer all the herds. 3 more wars. Then protect the peace from those who try to take it. How many wars is that? She wasn't sure if a peaceful group should begin with war, but perhaps it was a necessary evil. "Do you think it's even possible?"

"chatting."
shoot for the s t a r s
Image Credit
[Image: 53d6f2ea9010d]
pixel by baylee

Lace the Silverthorn Posts: 459
Deceased atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 15.3 hh :: 14 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Fajira :: Plain White Dragon :: Fire Breath Chan
#8
Lace the Silverthorn
It is our actions that define who we are


For a long time he simply stared at her, overwhelmed.

The idea was genial, the perfect solution to his problems. He missed the Qian, but without Mirage it couldn't exist. Lace wanted a family, but everyone he loved was now scattered to the four corners of Helovia and he was left standing in the middle, not knowing where to go. Fajira triller a sharp approval from her branch, but even though a dreamy kind of smile began to spread across his lips Lace felt a sharp pang of doubt as the cogs of his brain began to squeak into action.

"No..." he thought aloud, only half attentive to Dröm as he reflected on her doubts. "I know the Qian tried, and if any ever got close to the ideal of peace, it all went to ruin the moment they settled into a herdland.

"The war against the Edge was a mistake, you know"
he said, and started to pace.

"It only fed the crows and sowed seeds of bitterness that still linger in the minds of everyone who participated. Things like that don't just go away even if you try to be open minded and fair. Pain is still pain and no one ever forget scars or what caused them. No, I don't think I can create a purely peaceful group - because you can only get so far with pretty words. Sooner or later you will have to back them up with force, or you and your friends will die."

He paused and looked up at the sun that hovered over them, bright and nearly blinding against the dark backdrop of the forest. It was getting difficult to maintain it; absently he pushed it higher up and further away so that it could explode with a loud bang without hurting anyone, and then lit another one. He found comfort in the warmth and the light, and it made it much easier to hold a conversation when you could see the other parties clearly.

"Another factor to consider are the gods. When I first arrived to Helovia it was in a state of uproar after the Sun God had been going on a rampage. I don't know what had caused his rage, but it didn't end until he had burnt down a part of the Edge forest and scarred several people. He was exiled by the other gods for his efforts... Though as he's back and kicking now he must have repented."

"At any rate, as soon as we bind ourselves to one of their protected lands we become influenced by their actions. Just look at what the Moon did! Whatever her reasons were, the actions resulted in war as those within her land made it an excuse to invade the Falls. A friend told me that it was because they didn't want to live beneath the rule of the Moon any longer, but I wonder if that was really the case..."


He mulled over this thought with furrowed brow for a while, unaware that he had started pacing again. Back and forth he went, back and forth, and not until he sensed the amusement of his dragon did Lace realize that he had begun to move trees so he didn't have to go around them.

"Hrrm... yeah. Where was I...." Hurriedly and with a slightly sheepish expression on his face the stallion restored the towering giants to their original places and shapes. Turning back to Dröm - whose name Fajira helpfully had dug up for him from the foggy depths of his memory - his gaze suddenly sharpened, a bright and keen look that was at once piercing and curious.

"This is a very interesting idea, my dear! I really think it is a plausible option, and your offer is highly appreciated. But how far are you willing to go for such a dream? Peace, in any form, won't come easily because first one might need to topple and destroy old structures. Customs, beliefs and habits need to be scrutinized and reshaped, we would need to gather members and spread the word... and it would take time. A lot of time, and most of it will be spent doing hard work for little or no rewards. I doubt anyone will ever thank us for what we do...

Do you still want to go through with this? Are you prepared to fight for a free, equal and balanced Helovia? Because that was what the Qian stood for, and if I do this I wish to honor those ideals."





Picture by Vossity


Soooo sorry for the wait! I made a post yesterday but closed the tab without sending... now you get the improved and way more ambitious version xD
BronzeHalo.deviantart.com
♦ Permission granted to use magic and violence on Lace and Fajira
♦ Only tag in new threads, spars and if it's urgent
The Store | The Warden


Forum Jump:


RPGfix Equi-venture