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10-14-2015, 02:44 PM
but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams
They were not alone.
A white shadow was watching them—waiting, listening. Her icy blue eyes were locked upon the newcomer, drinking in every detail, every nuance of her color, every shift, every hair waving in the gentle morning breeze. Wings were folded neatly against her sides, talons locked around a sturdy branch. And through the owl, he saw them. Heard them. Understood the speech Irma normally couldn't.
And because of her, he knew who they were—Eden, and Calista. One from the north, quite pregnant, and one from the beyond. Fresh meat, a piece in the game of Helovia—the game they all played.
Mauja sighed as he walked along the well-worn paths, Diego riding on his shoulder. Sometimes it was damn tiresome, this endless trek to the Threshold to pick up strangers. And sometimes, it made him think that he had been better off an Outcast—better than this. All this duty. All this must do this, must do that, keep track of who was in the herd, deal with Torleik, deal with the Moon Goddess, deal with everything and watch the world crumble around him on top of it.
He was shaking his head to himself, silken mane swaying with the motion, when he came upon them. Eden seemed to have her properly interested in the Basin, and given the golden spear upon her head Mauja figured she would be welcome among them. "The Basin is a lovely place," he said, voice and eyes gentle, soft in their blue. "The cold during winter simply enhances its beauty." Irma's wings whispered wide open, and in silence she glided down from her perch to grab his scarred spine. "I am Mauja, of the World's Edge. Along with the Dragon's Throat and Hidden Falls they form the four herds of Helovia." His ears flicked forward politely as he came to a halt. "The Edge lies by the ocean—an evergreen forest ending in a sheer dead-drop into the sea. You would be welcome among us if you'd like."
[ @Calista @Eden ]
A white shadow was watching them—waiting, listening. Her icy blue eyes were locked upon the newcomer, drinking in every detail, every nuance of her color, every shift, every hair waving in the gentle morning breeze. Wings were folded neatly against her sides, talons locked around a sturdy branch. And through the owl, he saw them. Heard them. Understood the speech Irma normally couldn't.
And because of her, he knew who they were—Eden, and Calista. One from the north, quite pregnant, and one from the beyond. Fresh meat, a piece in the game of Helovia—the game they all played.
Mauja sighed as he walked along the well-worn paths, Diego riding on his shoulder. Sometimes it was damn tiresome, this endless trek to the Threshold to pick up strangers. And sometimes, it made him think that he had been better off an Outcast—better than this. All this duty. All this must do this, must do that, keep track of who was in the herd, deal with Torleik, deal with the Moon Goddess, deal with everything and watch the world crumble around him on top of it.
He was shaking his head to himself, silken mane swaying with the motion, when he came upon them. Eden seemed to have her properly interested in the Basin, and given the golden spear upon her head Mauja figured she would be welcome among them. "The Basin is a lovely place," he said, voice and eyes gentle, soft in their blue. "The cold during winter simply enhances its beauty." Irma's wings whispered wide open, and in silence she glided down from her perch to grab his scarred spine. "I am Mauja, of the World's Edge. Along with the Dragon's Throat and Hidden Falls they form the four herds of Helovia." His ears flicked forward politely as he came to a halt. "The Edge lies by the ocean—an evergreen forest ending in a sheer dead-drop into the sea. You would be welcome among us if you'd like."
[ @Calista @Eden ]
man, I ain't changed, but I know I ain't the same
