the Rift


[PRIVATE] master hunter

Arya Posts: 50
Hidden Account
Filly :: Unicorn :: 16 hh :: 2
Minx
#1

She harbours a sword within her unquiet roaring heart,

The waves crash against the shore. All around her the air is brittle and cold, and when she exhales, she can see the fog of her breath. Twilight is creeping in and Arya knows it'd be wise to begin the trek home. But she lingers. Morbid curiosity drawing her closer towards the waves. If man and flesh cannot kill her... What can? Will she wither away with age? Will her body give into the ages and fade into nothing but ash? Arya loathes her powerlessness at what may her true power. She loathes the ignorance and the questions that rise within her mind. The huntress kicks up a wall of sand and gives out a frustrated sound. One ear presses against her head and she turns from the tides. Eyes fixating on the shoreline ahead of her. Why did the gods give her such a mysterious gift?

"Why give me something if I don't know my limits? What if I do something and it ends me?" She asks, nothing in particular. Maybe one of the gods turn their ear. There is no expecting an answer of course. Gods have better things to do then disclose the secrets of their works. Yet, she cannot help but wonder what answers the Time God may have. ­Her head aches from all the worries and she knows by now she should let it all go. Most would've released their anxiety over something. Yet there she stands. Along the beach. Her ass freezing, contemplating why she didn't bleed out on the snow. Why her soul had felt trapped in a cage.

"I bet most people would be elated at the fact their still alive," she mutters to herself amused. "Not questioning and angered by the fact they can't figure out why they breathe. ­­­Goodness gracious Arya, you really are a piece of work." Despite herself, she laughs and looks out at the horizon. "Hmm.. I wonder." She steps out towards the waters, her hooves just barely submerging in the water.

@[Knox] @[Hotaru]

arya woman-kingfont color=#eebabb>arya woman-king

• tag in opening posts only 
• violence/magic is permitted. maiming/death is not without prior permission

Hotaru the Valkyrie Posts: 295
Outcast atk: 7 | def: 10.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3hh :: 6 Years 3 Months HP: 67 | Buff: NOVICE
Alice :: Royal Hellhound :: Acid Brit
#2
Hotaru
and Alice

On a wave of stubborn elegance she descends from her throne, the barest of excuses - why does she need to utter them? She is beyond their control now - flitting past her lips before she escapes the narrow passageways into the world beyond. For a herd meeting it had been disastrous, and though a few errant comments had made their way home for the dangerous maiden, she had prevailed in the end. Arah's bitterness did not touch nor influence her, and she shrugged it away. If they would not believe in the prowess that she had already displayed, well...she would simply have to continue proving them wrong. As she always had. She would prove that she earned her crown, it was not simply handed to her like an errant gift.

With all the notches on her belt, Hotaru had thought maybe she'd actually proven herself. Snorting softly into the frigid air, the woman watched her breath cloud and cloy around her pale whiskers. Bring it on, she thought vehemently, bicolored orbs flashing in the greyed-out light. Alice huffed at her side in wordless, primordial assent and acquiescence. They were a pair, a devastating machine. Hotaru would lead her herd into the light, would make sure they were powerful in ways beyond militaristic prowess. Just because they lived in throes of bitterness and archaic reasoning did not mean Hotaru could not show them a new way to live.

She would do her daughters proud, would give them an example to follow, and that was the everlasting motivation behind most of her successes.

Speaking of...Alice, who had bounded ahead into the snow, shoveling her muzzle deep into the frigid drifts, had made it to the copse of the beach's oxymoron cold sands. A flash of an image inside her head, an unmistakable figure painted in hues of pinkened red, glassy horns peeking above her wild, tumultuous hair. Arya. Amazonian princess. Daughter. A smile creased on the woman's face as she descended the embankment, snow filtering onto sand, trailing lovingly after her delicate hooves. Ahead of her, Alice raced, unrestrained and childish with nobody to impress at that moment. Hotaru asked much of the pup, and she excelled at every turn, impressing and endearing the woman ever further were it physically possible. The pup crashed into the water, yelped at the cold, and sprang right back out, bobbing and weaving excitedly through Arya's legs.

Hotaru laughed softly at her antics and moved closer, eyes uncharacteristically warm as they fell upon her sole daughter. "Hello, my huntress," she cooed, moving to offer her muzzle to the young girl in familial greeting. "Quite a herd meeting," she commented, eyes watching Arya for her reaction. She and Mirabella had been starstruck at her ascension, and it had made her heart swell so far with love she felt as if she'd burst to see their pride, their hopes and dreams written into their features. But how had she reacted to Arah's disapproval, her outbursts, and Hotaru's reaction? The Lady only wanted to guide her daughters down the right path, and didn't want Arya to think that her promotion to being a leader of the Basin would mean their time together would suffer.



Twisted it to post-meeting to make it all the more interesting for @[Knox] ;D


Image by Frostie-Spirits.deviantart.com
[Image: 515265280ffff]

::Strong like the sea is stormy::

Please only tag starting posts, spars, and threads collecting dust!
Plot with me here!

Knox Posts: 262
Outcast atk: 4 | def: 7.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17hh :: 7 Years [Tallsun] HP: 67.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Jen
#3

The cold of frostfall numbs the hunter into a submission of his own self. There is no one left within him but an other, someone he cannot understand and someone to whom he cannot speak. He shifts relentlessly into other forms, doing everything he can to see in flashes of reflection, in flashes of his own companion's mind, anyone but himself.

It is in the form of Anaan that he walks towards the ocean in this relentless cold, and in that form that he will stay for a time. He and his companion are cloaked in the quiet silence of light, soundless and barely bound to the earth. He arrives wordlessly alongside a young filly, looking over the patches on her coat with the kindness of a gentle wisdom.

Ah, she too bears spots.

Manhattan smiles beneath the cloak that covers them and nudges Anaan's thick pillars. Though she has not forgiven Knox, Anaan is one she will always comfort like a child. Different ones, the black dog thinks to the grandsire, nosing his scars with kindness. She parts from him only briefly, stepping closer to the short and letting its chill lap at her paws.

The hunter and bonded listen intently to the young mare's pleas. Who is she speaking to, and what is she hoping for? Anaan's brow wrinkles and his lips lift in a silent nicker. The child is too sad, he thinks, too sorrowful for her youth.

But Manhattan can say nothing to that. She too remembers a child so sad and lost, and she remembers being a child alongside him. But where, she wonders with a hopeless glance up at the shifted form beside her, where has he gone now, other than into darkness?

When the other pair appears, the hunter perks. There is a feeling, maybe joy, in the eyes of the other unicorn who draws near. Knox watches through Anaan's dark eyes as the scene unfolds with the swiftness of familiarity--Manhattan smiles to herself as she stands firm in the waves and the massive hellhound jumps about and away. There is a pride in her heart, brought on by the steeling of her life.They are family, the hunter thinks in Anaan's gentle tones. He sees the affection held by the elder mare, watches as it intrudes and juxtaposes the contemplation of the filly as she walks into the water.

The hunter's ears perk at the sound of the elder one's words. A herd meeting? Perhaps he can learn something, then.

At his feet, Manhattan sits and bares her teeth in disgust.

All beauty, this family. And you think of spying on herds.

He is not listening, his eyes are caught, rapt, on the countenances of the mare and filly before him.

This lesson will be lost, Manhattan thinks again. And she thinks of his family that he has forced out of his life, and the family that she too has lost as a result. She scowls at his selfishness.

You could have this, too.


""

[[SORRY FOR THE WAIT I SUCK @[Arya] @[Hotaru]. Since he's cloaked you don't need to wait for me in post order for the future, though I will try and be quicker now. Class ends soon and then I go off busy!]]
Knox & Manhattan
Image Credits!


Forum Jump:


RPGfix Equi-venture