"Where brilliance is good and madness is better..."
Helovia Info
Helovia opened in February 2012! We are an active fantasy equine RPG
Where once the world narrowed into naught but gray dust and desolation, the gods called for life. Wielding the elements of fire and light, dark and wind, earth and water, spark and time, they have created Helovia. The realm is set within the mythical globe of Loorien, a planet rich with all variety of creatures and blessed with all manner of magic. Originally populated by nomadic, tribal characters, they've since grown into massive empires saturated with culture and history. Separated into four distinct segments of Helovia, called "The Regions," each band of horse strong enough and capable enough, took up the power and responsibility of leadership. Unicorns, old, wise and mysterious, took to the north, hidden in forests of mists and shadows and rarely making themselves known beyond their cliffs of the World's Edge. Equines, vast, organized and militaristic, split into two, one group went north to the Windtossed Foothills and the other group went south to the Dragon's Throat. Pegasus remained nomadic, making their homes in various parts of The Wilds in a migratory manner. For many generations, the land was peaceful and calm, but peace was never the way of the gods. With a clash of argument, war and bloodshed massacred Helovia, and in the aftermath, the realm was eerily quiet. Now, as newcomers sweep into this land, they are met with the lingering bitterness of the gods and the struggle to reclaim what was lost. Nothing remains safe or certain while sorcerers and soldiers alike brood and bide their time for revenge, honor and glory.
Site Wide Plots
Kaos :: The Beginning of the End ☼ - 6/2017 - Kaos placed Helovia in a time-bubble for a short period of time, but the Helovian gods are fighting back. But Kaos is powerful- far more powerful than anyone thought. This may be the beginning of the end of Helovia as we know it.
Kisamoa :: A New Kind of Kaos ☼ - 3/2017 - Kisamoa asks Helovians to help him restore the Spectral Marsh. Which side will you choose?
Invasions :: All Out War ☼ - 5/2/16 - New layout and the brand new invasion rules are up! Thank you for your patience and we look forward to getting started with this new adventure.
The Rift :: Gods Do Die ☼ - 8/2015 - Helovia Gods are saving the Rift from corrupt gods! Can Helovians band together against these foreign deities?
The Literal Ship ☼ - 2/8/15 - Oh no! You have to pair up for Valentine's day!
Sky Island :: Murder ☼ - 10/25/14 - Vesta has been found dead on the island, and the gods have called to you to solve the murder!
Sky Island :: Peace ☼ - 7/7/14 - An island has appeared in the sky! Clouds carry Helovians from the Veins to the sky.
Restoration :: We Welcome the Dawn ☼ - 9/21/13 - The sun has finally risen on this day, giving the land new light, but the Time God and the Sun God have yet to be seen.
Endless Night :: Broken Magic Plot ☼ - 8/30/13 - The earth god has returned and is walking across Helovia to heal the land. Every area can now be considered lush and prosperous, but the sun has still not risen.
☼ - 7/19/13 - The moon has risen in the sky, heralding the return of the Goddess of the moon. Lamp trees which light the paths have grown brighter, moon flowers which grow in dark places have begun to grow and prosper and the world is brighter, filled with a new hope.
Endless Night :: Dead Magic Plot ☼ - 6/22/13 - The gods of Helovia, in order to protect the world, have disappeared into the rift, leaving the world sunless, moonless and magic-less in their absence. Only the herdlands have a source of light, but lamp-trees with glowing leaves and branches sporadically line the popular roads and paths from place to place.
Doppleganger Plot ☼ - 6/20/13 - The God of Time is still struggling to close the rift though which the dopplegangers have come. He has requested that his brothers and sister assist in closing this hole, but without knowing why it opened, the task is proving difficult. Magic still remains faulty and hard to control, but the herdlands continue to be places of refuge for those who are fortunate enough to call these lands home.
ORANGEMOON cools off the lands with a a viscious force. Colder than normal, a sign of things to come during Frostfall, Helovia is bathed in a rich tropical lushness - albiet a cold one. The coastlines of the Dragon's Throat are pelted constantly by tidal waves, and the desert climate is humid but chilly. Ice begins to form early in the Aurora Basin leaving the winding trails slick and dangerous. The mists of the World's Edge coat everything in a glistening crystalline shine which encourages mould to grow everywhere. The Spectral Marsh is the only area which remains fertile, blissfully temperature and lush.
Cotm
Character of the Month for
June, 2017
WEAVER, Corporal of the Aurora Basin, is a relatively recent addition to Helovia and has taken it by storm. Branded with the seal of Death on her chest, intrigue and interest follow both her past and present. Though she is assuredly beautiful, her sometimes sharp personality reveals that there is more to this uni-peg hybrid than meets the eye. Proving herself able on the battlefield in the Basin’s warrior ranks, we can’t wait to see her test her mettle against the looming Kaos happenings! Congratulations!
Helovia RPG was created by Tamme and Blu and coded by Tamme also known as Schwartze. All coding, palettes and imagery are copyrighted to the website and are not for use outside of Helovia. Thank you to our ServerMaster for hosting Helovia. A special thanks goes to Neo for all of her coding help and fixing Tamme's errors, Boom, for her loyal service and creation of the Time God, and to Ali for her consistent contributions and dedication.
The sunset cast long shadows off the pine trees. Everywhere he looked, snow sparked back at him in thousands of little glittering shiny colours. Perhaps in another time, another mindset, or another world, he would have enjoyed the scenery, but right now Beest wsa blind for this beauty that surrounded him. His white eyes skimmed over the environment, taking it all in, while his nostrils are flaring in distress. Never had he seen real snow before. How did he not notice he had walked north so far? Or maybe he just had lost track of the seasons. After all these years of wandering around alone, fleeing from his demons, had Insanity finally came to visit him? I've been waiting for you.
He marched on, twisting and turning his ears to pick up every sound he could, eyes rolling in their sockets to pick up every sign of movement he could. Beside the usual frigid air that ripped through his nose (freezing all contents inside), he picked up another scent, one that he once was so familiar with. Horses. The further he walked, the stronger the scent got. His heart was pounding in his chest with excitement, his mind was continuously telling him to turn around. The noise of the snow, cracking and squeaking underneath his hooves, turned louder and more upbeat as the stallion changed his pass to a steady trot. The silly thing made sure to lift up his legs a little higher than usual, just in case this snow would try to kill him. Cloven hooves are great to have when walking in this shit, he figured.
He himself came from hot and barren lands. It's what he knew, what he grew up with. And now he had left behind all he knew, looking for a new start, new opportunities in life. There must be more to life after all, right? Right?
"♥." | word count: 314 | tag: | ooc: So I'm incredibly rusty, forgive me!
The snow in the north was certainly daunting in comparison to the fine layering of ice just outside the realm of the Basin. It did not hinder Atlas in his descent south, to any place more familiar with the sun, and it only spurred him to regret his decision to call the Basin home. Of course, it was not all ice and cold just beyond the trees of the Threshold; there was much more to be said of the unicorn clan to which he’d pledged his allegiance. Many were amicable, or at least friendly enough, and the rest were somewhat questionable deviants. It was a place that made the man of constellations look ordinary despite his care-not attitude and his flashy garb. Yet, Atlas was not one to agree with such statements or ideas… he’d longed for admiration and attention. It was certainly something of a disappointment that he’d failed to shine in a land so robed in darkness.
However, those sentiments did not keep him from wandering to the claiming grounds every so often, though it was likely born of boredom than anything else. His mind was a precious tool to the young apprentice and nurturing it had been the sole purpose of staying –albeit uncomfortably- in Helovia. Sure, there was plenty of company, fine ladies and dashing lads, but nothing quite compared to the sense of duty he’d discovered there. That had been a deciding factor after spending so much time an outcast to any of the four herds… Loneliness did little for appearances and appearances were everything to Atlas.
At some point, when the winds did not howl so fiercely and the echo of his own footfall did not startle him so much, the star-painted stallion knew he’d reached the Threshold. The tall trees were a good indication of how far he’d have to search for company and their pointed crowns gave him relief from the blustery effects of winter. As he trailed along the weathered routes of the wood, the apprentice hummed lightly to himself. He’d found that, if anything, his good mood would be far more appealing to strangers than any conversation he’d share, as forthcoming and honest as he was.
It didn’t take long for the star-kissed vagrant to stumble upon what he’d been looking for though. In fact, it didn’t take more than the slight setting of the sun. All around, faint, orange light filtered through the pines and glistened upon the ice-shelled snow. There was no birdsong and no summer creatures to buffer against the resounding silence and everything within a mile’s reach could be heard almost perfectly. Perhaps that was why Atlas had made quick work of recruiting in the winter; there was simply nothing standing between him and the things he set his mind to.
“I was you once,” the apprentice began as he approached a dual-horned bloke with curious, pale eyes. Atlas wasn’t yet certain of the fellow, but at least if itthings came to blows, he had a home-turf advantage… right? The other was a head taller than Atlas himself and perhaps a bit beefier, and with those corkscrewed horns, the apprentice found himself finally on the opposite end of the predator spectrum. If it was ‘kill-or-be-killed’, Atlas would be hightailing it toward the safety of the Basin. After all, he was smart enough to pick and choose his battles…
“Are you looking to be lost? Or are you waiting to be found…?” he questioned passively.
Sometimes even Atlas had to question his own cryptic behavior.
Gravedigger, when you dig my grave can you make it shallow? So that I can feel the rain..
That one unicorn had already been greeted by another was no great surprise to Gaucho. The unicorns of this land seemed to stick together far more cohesively than any other species. Perhaps that was their weakness, and ultimately the sickness of the Basin. But, those were thoughts for another time.
Spiraling downwards in a whirlwind of flame and fire, the Wildfire landed a few meters away from the duo. Gaucho smelled of the ocean and the warmth of his paradise home. Even in the frigid grasp of Frostfall, the Dragon's Throat remained pleasantly warm. Frost and snow would never touch the bloody sands of his home, no matter how prevalent they covered the rest of the lands. In his antlers hovered a snake, and a small fiery phoenix chick. Both Vorsa and Mara regarded the unicorns silently, while Gaucho's stormy blue-gray gaze fell upon Beest.
The newcomer was as tall as Gaucho was, with a reasonably similar build, yet Gaucho didn't detect the finely honed muscles of a warrior hiding beneath his effervescent coat. Though perhaps his odd markings and adornments hid whatever athletic potential he might have.
"Everyone was here once." Gaucho commented flatly, having heard Atlas' psudo-introduction from the skies. Although Gaucho had been in Helovia for years now, his thick accent still remained prevalent. His sentences were still choppy and often disjointed, adding to the primitive and primal air about him. "Everyone not born here come through there." He grunted in conclusion, folding his flaming wings against his flanks.
Although Gaucho found Atlas's question to be far more poetic than necessary, it was a reasonable place to begin. Though Gaucho was not surprised that the star-clad stud did not offer up any more information. The Wildfire assumed he was from the Basin, and if that was the case, likely he was merely here to recruit. Why provide options when you were simply here to bring the horned back home with you?
"Helovia have four herds. Basin in snowy mountains to the North, Edge in forests and cliffs to the West, Falls in valleys and groves below that, and Throat an island to the East. Each have leads and Gods who rule the herds. Time God for Basin, Moon Goddess for Edge, Earth God for Falls, and Sun God for Throat."
07-15-2015, 03:47 PM (This post was last modified: 07-15-2015, 03:48 PM by Ashamin.)
Together they walked, as if one leading the other, neither sure who was in charge. Ashamin kept his head low and swinging as he watched over Lochan and kept track of their like hoofprints, differing only in size. The young cerndyr showed no signs of easing his pace, and as the familiar forest's edge drew closer Ashamin found himself having to transition into a steady trot. Lochan became a black shadow, darting in and out of the trees, inexplicably and undeniably guiding.
When the pair at last breached the treeline guarding the scene unfolding ahead, Ashamin was surprised to find Atlas present. Atlas and two very tall, very impressive stallions. He smiled at the grandest of the quartet, with antlers fixed upon his brow in imitation. Perhaps he had tried to sneak past the borders of the Aurora Basin with that disguise.
But it was Atlas whom he settled beside, and there he stood as a part of the three against the one: natives greeting the newcomer. Well, adopted natives, as it were. They were like the three stooges, each taller than the other. Lochan, who had once been ahead, settled behind and beneath Ashamin's barrell, butting his head affectionately against the Haruspex's hocks.
Apologies. Four stooges.
As the little cerndyr cast his central white eye upwards, something like a tender smile planted on his dark lips, Ashamin focused better on his company. The large winged stallion spoke, drawling a recitation of geography, and Ashamin understood very quickly what sort of gathering this was to be. Nothing like his uninterrupted, heartfelt chat with Demothi, then. Whoever stood here, before this striped stallion with the braid in his tail, stood here with an eagerness to recruit--one that Ashamin himself didn't quite have.
The painted buck cast a brief glance upon the countenance of the nose-pierced and decided very swiftly that he would do his best to avoid such a beast on the battlefield. It was with Atlas whom he exchanged a longer, more meaningful glance. Ashamin was here for support in Atlas' endeavors, even if only by chance, whatever they were to be.
"Though perhaps I am a fool to be the first to do so, I'd like to introduce myself. I am Ashamin--my companion is Lochan, and my colleague is Atlas," he spoke cooly after the antlered one finished his speech, gesturing to each subject as he referenced them. "The three of us hail from the basin, as our feathered friend, who I am remiss in not having met, has mentioned."
But these were all just more facts--Ashamin wasn't sure he wanted to dwell on those. Wasn't he a beast of interperetation?
"Please, though, help us fill the silence. I think it would do us all some good to cease our speculation and give you a moment to introduce yourself." How confident he had grown, now, And still how he deferred. Still, how he lowered his head in a bow more bent from submission than politeness.
""""
[[@[Beest]]]
ASHAMIN
Not our time,
is it? But little one,
you led the way.
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
Beest halted at the sight of a nearing figure in the distance. The necklace wrapped around his horn jingled softly as he lifted his head up high to get a better view of the situation. His whole body focused on the stranger, ears pointed forward, eyes wide, nostrils flared. Ready to attack or flee if necessary. As the figure came closer, his unique featers became more apparent. A unicorn, covered in patches of deep black, decorated with stars. This stallion carried the night sky with him, unlike anything or anyone Beest had ever seen. "I was you once," the unicorn spoke when he was in Beest's hearing range. Beest tilted his head slightly, let his eyes and mind take in the curious stallion once more. That was one odd way to start a conversation. This animal, this stranger, knew nothing about Beest but his appearance. And they looked nothing alike. The only thing that they could possibly have in common is standing here, in this forest full of pine trees and snow. "Well then, I must have shrunk a lot," he joked. A hint of a smile played around his lips.
Before he got the chance to continue, a huge construction of flesh, feathers and flames dropped from the sky and Beest scare jumped back. Night Sky's question varnished in his panic. With eyes wider than ever he stared at the thing that just fell from the sky and stood there as if nothing happened. Beest was quiet for a minute, letting the adrenaline flow through him, processing the events. As he collected himself he began to distinguish the thing as another stallion, one with wings. Wings! Not to mention he was on fire and he didn't seem to care! He had never seen anything like it. "Dude..." Beest muttered, "... you're on fire!" "And you have wings. And a bone through your nose. And a snake in your antlers. And antlers. Aren't they supposed to be meant for deer?" the beast added in his mind. He kept a safe distance from the burning stranger, but as he spoke he seemed friendly enough. So far no threat. Helovia Beest repeated the name in his mind. He was still shaken by this.. situation; but had managed to cool off enough to act steadily, like his good old self. Besides, the things The Burning Man had to say were interesting enough to provide some distraction. While listening he took a second look at the bay stallion. He looked muscular enough, and even though Beest had build up his own fair share of strength, he'd avoid a fight with this animal if he had to for now. Plus, he had the advantage of flight. And fire. And a snake. And- Beest abandoned his repetitive train of thoughts and nodded to The Burning Man. All of these four herds sounded interesting enough, but was he supposed to make a decision right now? They were both strangers, and he knew nothing about these lands other than the things that were just explained to him. The big antelope-like stallion felt the judging eyes of both horses on him. "So where are you from?" He demanded to both.
As time crawled by, the sun slowly disappeared below the horizon. Beest shivered. It was cold enough during day time. If either had a place to stay the night for him, he'd gladly accept it.
A third and a fourth shade appeared in the increasing darkness. This one appeared to be more naturally coloured, a simple black paint. His lion's tail was long, his hooves pure white, but other than that Beest could not find any curiosities about this third stranger. He appeared to team up with Night Sky, and was actually the first one to introduce himself. Ashamin was his name. The striped stallion nodded at his bow and words. "I am Beest," his voice sounded as hoarse as always. I'm looking for a place to stay the night," he added. That's all they needed to know for now.
Clearly, Atlas had stumbled upon the auction block of Helovia, where residents attempted to woo foreign strangers to their bed. That was a notion he was certainly accustomed to, aside from the fact that this bloke was most definitely of the wrong gender. He assumed it was much the same when it came to recruiting though: appeal to the other, impress the other, and then consequentially bag the other. But alas, the apprentice had grown rusty for the procedures and instead allowed said disuse to ruin his purpose for introducing himself in the first place. Although, he hadn’t quite been allowed the chance at introductions and rather burned by his own game.
“And gotten a helluva lot uglier, hm?” the overo remarked with a sly smile. At least the bloke had a sense of humor in some way or another. Atlas could appreciate that. However, he would have to appreciate said humor another time, because before he knew it, an inkling of flame from the sky caught his dual-colored gaze. It was as if a torrent of fire, dust, and wind had descended upon them both, and while Atlas tried to hide his face from the violent beating of wings and the flailing of hooves, he nearly laughed. Never before had the apprentice seen the likes of a creature like Gaucho -though he’d never be one to admit as much- and never before had he been so dually enamored with the Pegasus’ lack of proper vocabulary. “No shit, Sherlock,” Atlas wanted to say toward the antlered beast’s statement of the obvious, but again… it wasn’t a good day to have the shit beat of him. He wasn’t sure there would ever come such a day for that.
For a time the atmosphere was charged with masculine energy and for a time Atlas couldn’t decipher if he even possessed a masculine bone in his body. The primitive creature and his flaming wings –not to mention the black serpent and some fiery bird-like infant perched atop his head- was anything but feeble. Yet, Atlas presumed he’d given up intelligence, or at least his ability to speak fluently, in exchange for his mastery in the art of combat. For surely a beast like that had seen a fight or two… or fifty. Atlas assumed it an equal trade. However, it appeared that the apprentice was not the only one to find fascination a natural reaction to the Pegasus, because even the strange foreigner grew frantic at the sight of so much fire.
Again, this bunch had a knack for stating the obvious and Atlas, more concerned for his life than anything else, didn’t have the guts to point it out. “This one’s got a point,” he agreed while motioning loosely at Gaucho, lest he decide to set the apprentice on fire as well. “There are plenty of places you’d be welcome to stay,” he offered with littler more than mock confidence. His previous ideas of bringing a creature like Beest back to the basin were all but flourishing and it wasn’t like Atlas had the kind of manhood to outshine the warlord. It had certainly become a party with that guy around.
But what was a recruiting party without a fourth partygoer? Atlas wasn’t sure he would be able to sway the newcomer without a bit of help, but did it have to be Ashamin? Did he have to grace them with his logic and wisdom only to shame Atlas and the winged killer he’d been trying to –somewhat- befriend? Of course, he’d been right about allowing the poor stranger a moment to speak, but he’d had plenty of chances… It just so happened that the chain of events hadn’t allowed for everyone to quite settle in properly if the apprentice wanted to be logically correct. Of course he’d wanted to share his knowledge of the herds and so forth, but he hadn’t had the time and now didn’t have the clout. Atlas guessed that if anyone was going to face the fire-man’s wrath, it would be Ashamin, because the star-kissed apprentice certainly wasn’t going to do it. Perhaps it was best he kept his opinions to himself anyhow. Atlas was far too mouthy to withstand the constant restraint of his own personality… and he wasn’t looking to die that day.
Gravedigger, when you dig my grave can you make it shallow? So that I can feel the rain..
Dude ... you're on fire!
It wasn't the first time that someone had said something of the sort to Gaucho, and yet even for a creature as primitive and primal as he, it seemed very odd. Of course he was on fire. Wasn't it obvious? So why was it worth mentioning? "Yes." He agreed, shuffling his ever-burning wings slightly since they were the topic of conversation. "Vorsa on fire too." At the sound of her name, the bright red phoenix chick burst into flames, happily beating her own burning wings to demonstrate her fire. Unlike Gaucho, her flames also gave off heat. Pleased to be the focus - even for a mere moment - Vorsa trilled happily before returning to her place at the top of Gaucho's antlers.
"Gaucho from Dragon's Throat." He responded, withholding his rank. Some felt the need to throw around titles, but Gaucho rarely did unless it was specifically asked of him or was necessary somehow. It always sounded showy or boisterous to his ears. Weren't his words (lol) and actions enough? Didn't his physical stature demand more respect than the word denoting him as king of such and such?
At the arrival of yet another unicorn, Gaucho began to doubt his original assumption that the star-speckled creature was from the Basin. If he was, surely sending two recruits was overboard, even for them? However as the paint with the deflated-looking horn began to speak, Gaucho could only internally groan. If this really was just the welcome wagon from the Basin, he obviously wasn't needed. Perhaps that explained why Atlas wasn't as forthcoming with details about Helovia as he had been: they were merely here to capture their latest inductee.
Gaucho lazily trained an ear on Ashamin as he spoke, but for the most part it was Mara, his gunsteel coloured snake, who did most of the listening. The flowery language sounded wasteful to Gaucho's primitive mind as well as confusing. He had gotten significantly better at understanding complex phrases and words, but even after all these years he still felt their presence in conversation to be tiresome. Why was it so hard to just speak plainly ?
I am Beest
Gaucho snorted with half-amusement. "That good name." He grunted under his breath. The name of one of his sons, Rhoa meant 'beast' in his native tongue.
I'm looking for a place to stay the night.
So ... this wasn't a straight-forwarding return-with-the-newcomer mission for Atlas and Ashamin ? Perhaps next time he saw Hotaru he would ask her about the Basin's policies. Did they just jump on anyone with a horn who stumbled through? No dinner first, just straight to the good part? Similarly pegasi were always welcome in the Throat, but Gaucho didn't actively seek them out - if they found their way to him so be it. He didn't need to advertise or entice. So why did the Basin?
"Throat have no snow." Gaucho offered, the thick resonant tones of his voice holding no indication of enticement. Unlike some, Gaucho didn't feel the need to pad his herd with strays and stragglers. But if this Beest wanted a place out of the snow, he could offer that.
The Haruspex was struggling to focus. This was not his fight or his place: he belonged back in the warmth of his cave, just waking up, looking deep into the mirror for wisdom. Here, he felt he was learning nothing. Not yet, anyway. Not with the brute stallion and his blunt interruptions, his fire, his pride.
It was good that Ashamin was unable to hear the wildfire's thoughts: his pride and loyalty for his heard likely would have led to a fight. And even though his leg no longer dragged stiff in his wake, and though his gold scars were marks of the wound having healed, he knew he was not yet ready for another Torleik situation. Even if this stallion wasn't a herd lead, at least not as far as Ashamed knew, he was a force to be reckoned with.
When Atlas spoke a frank honesty, Ashamed felt a glimmer of respect rise in his chest. Whatever anyone else may or may not think, Atlas and Ashamin were not here hunting anyone down. Atlas was, as always, frank. He didn't lie. There were other places where a traveller such as this could go, and in the bitterness of Frostfall the distant and mythically warmer climes of the Dragon's Throat was perhaps a more attractive option for a newcomer. Whether or not that distant herd was as welcoming and noble as Ashamin perceived the Basin to be, however, was another story.
And Ashamin would not deny the kindness of those few whom he had met that had hailed from there. Einarr had changed the young painted buck, utterly and completely, and Maren had been open and forthcoming with her knowledge. And this stranger, standing like a campfire, seemed to be inoffensive enough. He and Atlas both were the type that Ashamin wasn't sure he would gravitate towards on his own.
But in that brief moment, that small exchange of remarks and moments and reactions, Ashamin gained respect for his fellow and lost just the slightest amount for this Gaucho, this creature who lit himself in flame outside of a fire.
Beest's wonder was intriguing. That was what the Haruspex wanted to focus on. His excitement at seeing magic that Ashamin himself had not given much note, his questioning of their homesteads, his economy with words. This was the sort Ashamin could see following a path similar to his own.
"Beest, it is a pleasure to meet you. Not many have ventured so far as to find Helovia in this bitter season," the painted buck said with a nod. He caught his companion's gaze, steady and white, and smiled. It was good to have Lochan, here--good to not be alone. Atlas was company, to be sure, but not a company of the same sort of closeness. As physical as Ashamin often was in greeting, he doubted Atlas was the type to reciprocate such a gesture. Lohan, however, he could nudge and nuzzle as much as he wanted. And he did so now, in a small, private recognition of their bond.
His long tail draped across his back; his black eyes blinked slowly, as if to refocus away from the flames' light. He cast a smile, genuine and brief, to the antlered being. "Perhaps I should visit this Dragon's Throat someday," he added with a chuckle before turning back to Beest. "Gaucho speaks the truth--perhaps the weather of the Basin's homeland is not as tolerable as others, at first glance. But I can assure you that if you can stand another brief trip North over ice, you will find a warmth of fire and family within our caves and by our springs, one that will sustain you for more than just one night, if you desire."
At this the small deer turned away to bury himself deeper in Ashamin's frame. Shy, little one? The haruspex wondered as he watched the cerndyr turn, flashing his tail for a moment as it disappeared beneath Ashamin's chest. But as those white eyes peeked back out behind the painted's left knee, surveying the three that stood about him, Ashamin saw the flash of an image, a childish sketch of a cave, and he knew: not shy, just homesick. Perhaps they could journey home, soon.
""""
[[@[Beest]]]
ASHAMIN
We will return
when the scene you made,
closes. You drew us
A picture of strangers
and bravery--now you
sketch maps to the homeland.
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
"And gotten a helluva lot uglier, hm?" Beest was glad he didn't have to answer this uncomfortable question for once, as the following string of events provided enough distraction. He actually quite liked the looks of the star-kissed stallion. He had never seen anything like it. But boy, wouldn't that be un-manly of him to admit that?
Beest kept a close eye on Gaucho and his fire, the most impressive one of the three stallions that gathered around him. He stared at Atlas as he was told there are plenty of places he'd be welcome, but couldn't help to find the mocking in his voice slightly offensive, even though he realised it was likely to be meant towards Gaucho's explanation of things. To Atlas, Gaucho may have just been stating the obvious, but as the striped stallion had just arrived he knew absolutely nothing about this place. They seemed to believe in gods, something Beest had always been sceptic of. But the antlered beast carried fire with him, and both Gaucho and Ashaming brought along curious little creatures that seemed to accompany them, which made it hard for Beest to shut out the fact that gods and their magic may actually be a genuine thing here.
Beest raised an imaginary eyebrow at the bay's casual "Yes", as if it was the most ordinary thing to actually be lit on fire. "That's not normal," the striped equine stated. His pale eyes followed the burning bird, seemingly excited about the attention it got for a minute. Unable to surpress a poor grin when the the bay's words reached him, he nodded.
"It's a pleasure to meet you too," The beast responded to Ashamin. Interested he followed the interacton between the two stallions. "No snow sounds good." Beest had to hide his excitement about foresight of a place to stay at that wasn't covered with the white stuff. "Thanks for the offer." He mentioned to both Ashamin and Atlas with a hint of smile. They had been nice, but a place without snow was just too irrisistible. Wondering if it would be anything like the lands he came from he nooded goodbye to the two horses. He positioned himself next to Gaucho, ready to continue his journey. It was time to move on.
"♥." | word count: 380 | tag: @Atlas@Gaucho@Ashamin| ooc: So so so so sorry for the late reply! Beest is gonna join the Throat. Just wanted to finish this thread so I can move on with him. c:
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