Arantza
This crown of thorns
The itinerant mare let her bright eyes examine the splendorous surroundings. Snow laid out like a blanket on the ground and adorned the lofty trees. Winter had quickly visited the Earth, it would keep the nights longer, but the times with the sun out striking. It was clear that Frostfall had fallen. Her stones sunk into the thick snow, never had she seen so much snowfall. All she could really see was white powder and a few evergreen trees peering out to the world. The air was crisp and light poured through the verdant canopy.
She had no idea of what eerie yet beautiful land she had meandered upon. “This could be my home”, the words came out as scarcely a noise. She looked over the peaks, hills, trees and mountains to see if she could see anyone. It seemed to be vacant in the area, but the mare felt sure someone would assist her around. She sighed a puff of frost.
For the time being she decided to saunter around the frost filled land in hope to find another. The arrow necklace that lay around her neck bounced on her chest. As she let her mind wander, white powder began to fall from the pale sky. It began to pile up on her immaculate fur. Her face lit up with a smile, something she felt like she hadn’t done in a while. She quickly dimmed it however in worry someone would see. Arantza couldn’t even recollect the last time she saw herself beam like this. This land would unquestionably was going to keep the mare amused.
OOC: Sorry for the terrible table, I'll try and fix it! Anyone is welcome to join but I'll be going to Dragon's Throat. xD
Tag: @[Maren]
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Maren the Crownless Posts: 264
| Outcast atk: 5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6 |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.0 :: 6 HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE |
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Mr. Teatime :: Siberian Tiger :: Sing
Yewrezz |
06-22-2015, 03:22 PM
(This post was last modified: 06-22-2015, 03:24 PM by Maren.)
M A R E N - By the precepts of her purity -
Snowflakes fell down in their passive, quiet melody. Blown over and towards her by the erratic swaying of the wind; crashing into her thick winter coat. Of all seasons winter was the one that made her feel the closest to home. She wandered through her memories as she breathed in the cold air, to puff it out of her nose in white misty clouds. Her eyes washed over the terrain, although it was hard to really see anything through the white veil. It was the first time in a while – no, wait; it was the first time ever since she had entered Helovia through its well-known bottleneck. “Hmmm…” she hymned to herself as she continued to walk through the deep snow, taking in the environment that had been left in the back of her mind for so long.
She continued her wandering through the outskirts with a nostalgic hum to her pace. When she found herself in between hills she had to jump her way through the thickened snow, and when crossing a frozen pond she walked carefully over the ice as she watched the light reflect in the air-filled ice-bubbles.
Then she halted her steps, took a moment to look around and watch the snow fall once again, listened to the rustling of the breeze through the crackling frozen reeds. It was then that, through the texture of falling snow, a brown blob fell into her sight. Like a random moving stroke of a paintbrush she wandered; into her directions. “Hey!” Maren called, feeling nostalgic as she slowly made her way through the snow towards the mare. Greeting new blood wasn’t totally her style, but today she felt nostalgic; today she felt like she could perhaps do something useful… Something useful that was for a change unrelated to the Patron. She squinted against the snow, hold her feathered wings like a hood above her face, too. The pale purples around her eyes shone vivid around her pupils, eyes totally silent, like always; crowned with a hooding frown. “Hey…”, she said again, less energetic now, as she glanced at the thorns growing from the crown of her head (old stories started flourishing from the back of her mind). "... Anyway," she shook herself loose from – whatever it was that had been holding her attention – and looked back into the spring green eyes of the mare. "Who are you?" she questioned with her outlandish voice, interested, but slightly as if she was supposed to know (even though they'd never met). Then she reminded herself to paste a smile at the end of her asking, but her attempt developed a few seconds to late to make it count the way it should've.
@[Arantza]
Notes: winterrr
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by yewrezz
Please tag me
Arantza
This crown of thorns
The wind’s strength began to grew, making the cold air leave chills down the mare’s spine. Strands of her auburn hair tickled her muzzle and a few times her tiny braids flopped around. Her arrow necklace tugged at her thick neck. It was all so quiet, but after short intervals you could hear the trees shaking and the snow leisurely dwindling to the ground. The sky was a blank canvas, yet so beautiful. The snow had already made its way up to her knees, the coldness shot through her body. She heard a faint noise in the distance soon and took a few moments to make out the words. The light sound of hooves rustling through the powder. Bright eyes squinted, endeavoring to find who had called out. Then she made out a pearl colored mare with striking rubicund stripes lining her back, she seemed to blend in with the pale land. Her body was muscular but lighter in other areas. As the petite, unknown mare approached her, she once again greeted Arantza, her energy dimmed. Gorgeous small wings sat snugly behind her ears, something Aran had never seen. Her multicolored eyes quickly glanced at the thorns that lined the crowned mare’s head. This small gesture made her conscious but she made sure to quickly shake it out of her thoughts.
“Hey, I’m Arantza! And you are?” she said softly with her tone rising, trying to mask her accent. “Your wings, are there others whose wings are placed like yours?”
The mare stopped herself from inquiring her any more, curiosity began to grow like fire within her however. The winged mare and horned one both had something that you usually did not see.
OOC: dat table though
Tag: @[Maren]
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Maren the Crownless Posts: 264
| Outcast atk: 5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6 |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.0 :: 6 HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE |
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Mr. Teatime :: Siberian Tiger :: Sing
Yewrezz |
06-27-2015, 04:53 PM
(This post was last modified: 06-27-2015, 05:00 PM by Maren.)
M A R E N - By the precepts of her purity -
The snow had started falling more slowly — perhaps more beautiful, in thicker clumps of soft crystals, falling like feathers from the cloudy skies. "Arantza," she said with a thoughtful nod. She noticed the soft sounding voice of the mare, where there was perhaps a hint of an accent. Perhaps this thorn-crowned mare was someone shy, would not tell her her story so easily. But then the mare asked something she hadn't expected so soon and she couldn't help but appreciate the bold mentality hidden beneath the sweet attitude. Still, she couldn't say a lot about the question itself, as she also couldn't help to think it wasn't something as smart as she had liked to hear. It was one driven by curiosity, and not one refined and worked on for long enough. That was clear. Maren would have asked if it mattered to her that much, if it bothered her — and if it did this Arantza could run back to wherever she came from and hide under the fucking thorn-bushes that had probably birthed her.
But the priestess simply shrugged as her silent gaze wondered off into the distance, still with a lonely smile tainting her lips. "Not that I know off," she shrugged once before pressing the I-don't-like-talking-about-myself topic away into a not-to-return-to corner, for it was certainly not interesting enough for Maren herself to talk about. Yet, the mare wanted to know who she was, and thus there wasn't really anything more she could do. "I am the Dragon's Throat's Diviner, Maren," she told Arantza in an official kind of way. She could after all, by no means know for sure if this girl wasn't familiar with the lands. So far she could only think that this mare was a wanderer.
But still, she herself had been a pilgrim before settling down in these lands, and with all those years of wandered from people to people, she had developed a nose that could sniff out those she had shared her roads with, even though never met. For sometimes travelers walked miles and still didn't go anywhere. Sometimes they didn't even mean to ever find anything like a treasure or a home. And thus, perhaps, this girl had simply stumbled upon the snowed-in threshold without even slightly knowing that she had fallen into the grasp of a land governed by Kings and Czars, Gods and rogue-groups. Perhaps the girl had simply wanted to know what was past that hill — and then wanted to know what was past the next hill, and then the next hill, and then... Maren looked into the green eyes, reminded her of spring once again. "Where do you come from?" Maren asked with a melody of tunes reflecting her interest.
@[Arantza]
Notes: Sorry for the wait c:
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by yewrezz
Please tag me
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