Ashamin

It had either been the exact wrong or exact right moment for Ashamin to have turned his head; the outcome would have to be debated. But either way, a beast crashed into the barriers and shattered them, sending ice shards Ashamin's way and sliding the tips of icicles across the floor, back to where they melted beside the fire.

For a moment, Ashamin did not look. He had a fear he could not quantify that he did not want to face; his back stung from the impact of the shards. Though the haruspex was thankful that he had not been blinded by that chaotic entrance, he would have liked the warning that sight afforded him. Now he had nothing but a heavy breathing that overtook the soft whistling of the wind outdoors.

He felt, even from behind, as if he was being towered over. The red of the flame shone on Ashamin's gold scars, marking the walls with their light lines and drawing his gaze to flicker there. Though he dared not move his head, from the corner of his eye he could see a tall shadow, and for that, he swallowed the cold air on his tongue.

But Lochan.

The cerndyr's white eyes shut and Ashamin watched as the third, always open, crinkled with concentration. Softly then came the image, slipping into Ashamin's consciousness as if a note under a door. With tenderness, the bonded buck unfolded the image, and revealed what his companion saw.

The flash of a vision was like a child's drawing, its lines shaky with nervousness and its rendering uncertain. But the image was, in its own way, clear. Patches of red, black, and green were scattered about and beneath the lines, but poking outside them in several places. Behind Ashamin stood a monster of a unicorn, that much was true, but nothing that he couldn't face. Nothing that, in fighting Torleik the Bloodskald, he hadn't faced before.

Ashamin turned, his long tail whipping at his back, and prepared a wise and subtle smile. The beast was, in some ways, exactly as Lochan had portrayed him. Maybe slightly less, well... squiggly. Ashamin met the white eyes, caught a glimpse of the emerald, and took in the sight of the muscled and scarred form. He had expected some creature much taller, but, well, this stallion seemed to be exactly his height without those horns of his. Pushing past all trepidation, Ashamin extended his dark cheek as always, reaching to try and touch it to the other stallion's in greeting. Perhaps Ashamin was becoming somewhat introverted in this long winter, or rather returning to that state, but he wouldn't let it get to him. "Well, you certainly know how to make an entrance, don't you?"

His tone was jovial, his air shaking with cold and a faint smattering of nervousness. But his black eyes were lit from the outside dim of the borealis, and in those rainbow patterns were reflections of kindness. Lochan stood by the fire but did not draw closer--Ashamin realized, suddenly and with wonder, that he could feel the young creature's movement as if it were his own.

"Come in, all are welcome to the home of the Haruspex," Ashamin said, turning to confirm the sight of Lochan on all fours and beckoning the newcomer with a coil-tipped tail. "Do you come seeking shelter or wisdom?" The second question was tossed behind his back, with his head tilted up and his four white deer's hooves carrying him back towards warmth. For whatever reason, he felt he recognized this stallion and his boldness. He doubted the other one was new, doubted the other needed introduction to this cave, and was entirely and completely wrong.

But, he would learn that in time, and introductions would come. For now, he stood by the fire and waited for his new company to join.


One night you drew for me a picture, red black and green, and when I turned to see who stood there it was difficult to think anything but this:

Where did you get the red from, little one?
Was it just a random pick?
A slipping, broken crayon?


[[@[Mortuus Nox], any]]

Ashamin

Then, standing before this somehow (but how?) impressive creature, Ashamed saw it. That bloody tear, that red drip--the scratch of a more sinister color that had appeared in the image Lochan had gifted him with. How had he not noticed it before?

The buck shook his head, horn rattling with the motion and teeth churning against each other in a slow grind. He listened with large ears pricked, even as he lowered his roman features closer to the cave floor, and took heed. So this was just another stranger then, seeking a warm place. It seemed that Ashamin's little home was becoming that for many.

"The Haruspex is the seer of the Aurora Basin, my role is to commune with the God of Time and interpret all visions he presents me," Ashamin said with a heavy sigh as he walked closer towards the fire and his companion waiting there. He trained his black gaze on Lochan, furrowing his own brow as he stared at the mark on the little one's. How had he seen that blood when Ashamin himself had missed it. Wasn't he supposed to be perceptive, as a seer? And yet, it was his companion who had the keener eyes, it seemed.

It occurred to him then, and belatedly, that the dark stallion must be new to the Herd. He hoped, anyway, that he was a part of a herd. How embarrassing it would be if a trespasser had slipped in under his nose, rested in his own cave... it would have been an embarrassing talk to have with his herd leads, Thranduil the sneaky-man in particular.

"I am Ashamin, I was once a newcomer such as yourself. It is good to find company in cold climes," the paint said absently, and with a sigh. He wondered faintly if this other was a soldier--with those scars and the physique, he would bet on it. But perhaps not; fighters came in all shapes and sizes and often surprising ones, he was proof of that himself. He may have been dubbed the wise one but he still yearned for a warrior's life. Maybe he could find such conversation with this fellow, this dark and already bleeding, brooding sort. Or maybe he was wrong--maybe the black was a quiet, gentle soul that Ashamin had yet to know.


The day that you see more than me,
which, I suppose, already every,
I will learn from you,
and cede this crown,
this wise authority.



[[@[Mortuus Nox], any,

A: Oh whoops, I forgot to specify! I was thinking yes? It's certainly not a dream. Dx
Q: Has Mortuus picked a rank or when he joins will he just be a stallion? ]]

Ashamin

Ashamin listened with care, but he supposed, now, that was how he always listened. The other stallion had soft, sussurant tones that barely echoed in the cavern. They seemed more like whispers, to Ashamin--he had been so hesitant himself. But perhaps he was misunderstanding this stallion's quiet. Maybe it was the hush of confidence rather than uncertainty.

Still, the haruspex could relate to the lost soul, Mortuus Nox. "Mortuus," he decided he would call him with a faint smile and another extension of his cheek to touch the stallion's in kindness. "A pleasure to have you here." Mortuus was more elegant, anyhow, Ashamin thought to himself with a little nod that followed his gesture. More fitting of a stallion as collected as this.

The painted buck wandered, then, circling the fire and watching it dance in the almost lifeless eyes of his company. Weren't they an interesting trio, with their seven black and white eyes all trained on this flame, this warmth, this flicker of salvation? The haruspex chuckled and sidled up alongside Mortuus again, having made a full circle, with his head by the other's scarred rump and looking back out into the storm. Perhaps, for a moment, they could brave it.

"You are correct, there are many other roles to take on in this herd. I am certain you will find one that is right for yourself..." Ashamin spoke, as if thinking aloud. Could he help, perhaps? Was this not his own role, to aid and advise? He let his body wander closer to the cave entrance; his nostrils stung with each inhalation of the bitter cold. Lochan trailed after him, several paces behind but still wanting to stay close. The cerndyr barely cast a glance at Mortuus.

His head, poorly crowned, turned back to gaze at the darker stallion. "Would you brave the cold, for just a few moments more? There is something I would like to show you," his tone conveying the offering more than his own curiousity. There is something I would like to see for myself.





[[@[Mortuus Nox], any. Sorry, no poem muse.
Oh, Ashamin can help him decide! As a Haruspex part of his role is to advise members--something like helping them pick a role is definitely his jurisdiction. :)]]

Ashamin

The outside was a cold greeting, but not an unfamiliar one. Ashamin found his eyes shut instantly by the force of the wind--his hair whipped and his tail, light and airy, was lifted in a second from where it dragged on the permafrost. Sparks fluttered in the air with its motion, dancing around the flying flakes and creating anomalous images of magic where it didn't belong and didn't exist.

Overhead, the sky was a bright painting. He could barely make it out, but they were there and dotted with belts of stars. He was a Haruspex now, and from what he had gathered that meant he had to be wise, and do wise things. What was wiser than reading the stars?

The haruspex glanced back, seeing his companion standing at the cave entrance. He tried to call out to Mortuus, beckon him forth with a neigh, but his voice was lost to the same wind and carried off into the distance. Someone else would hear that greeting, someone else would try and heed that call to "Come, the stars can tell us of your path!"

His mind was absent as he thought back to his childhood, and nights of looking upwards at his father's side. Veril would point out all the many dots of light, smiling at each as if they carried a memory for him. What do they mean, father? Ashamin had always asked, even long after knowing the answer.

I don't know, Veril always said. Your mother used to read them to me, every night.

Now it was Ashamin's turn to read those stars. He threw back his head, letting the merciless cold strike him where he stood, and gaze up. There was a sign to come, and one he would heed with all the respect he could muster.



Will you remember the one
who died so I could live?

I tell you this:
she exhaled a life
and I inhaled that death.

I will make good
on that promise.




[[@[Mortuus Nox], any. @[Johnny] will be doing an NPC for us shortly, so you can either wait for her or just tag her in your post!]]