|
[OPEN] Snails & The Lonely
|
||||||||||||||
11-27-2015, 05:45 PM
12-17-2015, 02:50 AM
The stallion thought a curious thought that day; Am I going mad? He chewed on it for a while, mulling over its flavour and pitch, testing its vibrancy against all others that might appear within his countenance, and came to the conclusion; No, with a definitive addition; It's just the world around me that is mad. Grimalkin wasn't one to ask things lightly. He considered them heavily, deeply, he reflected and sometimes (rarely) he changed his mind even after he had come to a conclusion. Cunning could be used to describe him, though he held no proof of his cunning - except perhaps the sheer fact he was alive in a world that was always trying to kill you. Helovia - why did I come here again? That was a question he asked often, though less so recently, as he became more accustomed to his solitude and wandering. He was attached to the Basin, it was true, and he longed to return and prove himself there - but he had been filled with a wanderlust, a traveller's itchy feet that required one to keep moving to sate the itch, a desire to see and learn about the world beyond the ice shelf - and so he had wandered, he had shirked his responsibilities. Maybe he would return one day. Maybe he would just keep wandering. Noises, voices, caused his ears to prick and his great antlered crown to turn and look at his surrounds. A deep breath was inhaled as he tested the air around him, but soon enough he let that go with a great gust of air and resumed his eating. The grasses were turning with the leaves in this season - Grimalkin had a hefty bulk to maintain, it would not do to skip a meal. But he heard that niggling voice again, that frustratingly far away sounding cry. Movement caught his eye, but when he turned his massive crown to view it with both eyes, whatever had moved was still once more, lost to him amongst the foliage. "Who's there?" his deep, guttural melody boomed, demanding the revelation of whoever was nearby. He knew that magic was thick in these parts, he knew of creatures who could cloak themselves in plain view of others - he just prayed he wasn't being spied on by some invisible enemy ready to take advantage of his resting hulk. @Difyr
grimalkin
ali00p | larfsalot on deviantart please do not feel pressured into mirroring the length of any of my posts I write what I feel at the time and hope everyone else does the same c:
12-17-2015, 01:22 PM
12-19-2015, 05:39 PM
I am, the words sounded strange, faraway, small, and Grimalkin found himself having to look closer to the ground to find its source. When his sights landed upon the creature who owned the tiny voice, he was a little bit stunned into silence. Emeraldine eyes tracked the swift, sharp movements of the creature, (for surely she was not a unicorn?) wonder apparent on his face as he took her in. He didn't know how long he stared for, but a few seconds of silence passed as the stallion (who felt rather, overlarge) gathered his thoughts. Look at her as if she were truly your size, he rumbled to himself, even as she sprouted wings and settled at eye level to him. Look at her, he told himself, for while his first thought was a cruel one of jest and corruption, he knew better than to judge too swiftly based on appearances alone. Look at her, he said sternly to himself; and so he did just that. He looked at the small structure of limbs and ram's horns, the delicate wings that seemed to meld back into her body when she didn't need them (much like a beetle, he concluded). "I've never spoken to a beetle before," he said, seemingly at random, as his thoughts caught up to his observations, and her words. She had labelled him a helovian, and so he thought it fitting to label her in return - the labels weren't entirely correct (or were they? Did a few seasons of wandering Helovia mean he was Helovian?) but what did it matter. She called this land the Labyrinth, he noted - it was always nice to put a name to a place for a wanderer such as he. "My business is food, and eating as much of it as I can before the snows of Frostfall blanket everything." He spoke simply and matter-of-factly with his russian tinted tones, answering the little one with the big attitude in tones that were neither entirely respectful nor entirely rude - they just were. He was yet to make his mind up about her, though he did want to chuckle at her poorly veiled threat, should he seek to bring 'unkindness' into her land. "You're a part of Helovia now, too." He began, nodding his great antlered crown to her and the surrounds. "Unkindness will find you no matter where you fly with your pretty little wings." Was it sadness and sorrow that chased across his façade then? Or just the wry old humour of a stallion who had seen something of cruelness in his life? @Difyr
grimalkin
ali00p | larfsalot on deviantart please do not feel pressured into mirroring the length of any of my posts I write what I feel at the time and hope everyone else does the same c: | ||||||||||||||
« Next Oldest | Next Newest »
|