The early morning sunlight glimmers off the silver's fur as she patrols through the Edge, her white lion close at heel. A dead rat hangs from the carnivore's jaws, leaving a trail of blood behind him - fitting, for the sort of meeting the ironheart has in mind. She is General now, leader of the warriors, and it is no longer enough for her to simply trundle through life with the occasional spar and invasion organised by somebody else. She is now in charge of all the herd's soldiers, and thus has to decide how to keep them on their toes, how to keep them trained and prepared should the Edge ever make an enemy. She can no longer be a passive member of the Edge - now, she has duties. Since giving birth, she hasn't fought, and thus is quite eager to get back into the swing of things. Now, with the sun shining and her children happily growing and strengthening, it is easy to forget the trauma of their birth. She almost died - she came closer to entering the abyss than she ever has during battle, and the memory is burnt onto the back of her mind. With Lace's death added to that, it has been a difficult year for the silver soldier, and it's long since time that she got off her ass and back into action. She halts in the centre of the Edge, a gentle sea breeze ruffling her mane as she parks herself beneath the shade of a tree. Dominus creeps beside her and settles down to devour his rat, spurting blood up the mare's back legs, much to her disgust. She lifts her horned head and releases a cry for the herd's warriors, nerves pulsing in her chest at the idea of being the one to instigate and speak in a meeting. She doesn't exactly have a nervous disposition, but she's not overly fond of crowds, especially crowds giving her their full attention. Still, needs must. Nyx waits, anxious but stoic, for the warriors to arrive. "" Meeting for the warriors of the Edge! Nyx will assign spars in this thread - in case you want to get them started ASAP, they will be Auriel vs Orithia, Caenan vs Lithium and Nyx vs Rohan (already started set after this thread) Compulsory for all warriors! I'll post again |
armour and sword [warrior meeting]
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01-11-2016, 12:51 PM
01-11-2016, 05:47 PM
it was said that the blood of the stars flowed in her veins It was cold below, but colder above. As I circled the Edge from the sky, my body shivered and my smoky breath was ladened with a chill. My mind was partially on watching the border, but it wandered, flicking to thoughts of my sister and mother. I hadn't seen my sister since TallSun, and my first encounter with my mother this season was looking like my last. I was eager to seek them out, but I wasn't sure what I would say. I decided to leave these thoughts for another day, for lingering in the center of the Edge loomed a familiar silver shape and unfamiliar bay. The border seemed uneventful enough for me to leave. I tucked my dark wings close to my body, descending towards the pair below. Upon closer inspection, I found the silver shape to be Nyx, the general. Her presence with the bay intrigued me enough to land, to see what was becoming of their gathering. I landed a few lengths from the pair, looming behind nearby trees and watching them carefully. Their interactions did not seem private, a notable detail in my mind. I huffed a cloud of onyx smoke and flicked my saffron colored tail in annoyance, for I was too far away from them to catch any words they might say. I slipped through the trees, prowling closer until I was too near to be considered simply a listener. I stood a length behind the bay unicorn, my concerned gaze flicking between the general and the stallion. I muttered a simple hello, adding a respectful nod to Nyx, but not saying much else. I seemed to have a habit of being short on words around Nyx, even though I had only met her one other time. Nevertheless, I was genuinely curious, and had no intentions of leaving this encounter yet. She walks in starlight in another world.
She is far away. She...she is far, far away from me.
01-16-2016, 08:06 AM
rohan RUN AWAY WITH ME
If anyone were to watch him, if anyone were to ask, then the stallion would simply be patrolling. He would be doing his duties (like a good boy). His large frame stalks the borders of the Edge, his nose lowered just below the point of his shoulders, his green eyes wild and searching beneath the shadow of his brow. The motions have become almost methodical by now. A trail of imprints marks where his hooves have stepped time and time again, several trees clawed by the restless rutting of his antlers as the hours have come and gone, stretching and pulling and shredding the time until it is just meaningless. The frustration and anger swell inside of him until he feels as if it will rip him apart from the seams. And still he clutches at it, welcoming the fury with open arms, if only to swallow and smother whatever guilt might dare to rise. The Warlander thought that he could escape this—he thought that he could run and leave it behind— —but perhaps it is not them he is trying to hide from. Clenching his jaws with a stifled cry, the stallion raises his head when he hears the silver’s call. His thick tail lashes irritably around his legs, and abruptly he decides to ignore her invitation (because he cannot be summoned like a little schoolboy), but his initial conclusion is overruled as quickly as it had been decided. He will go. Of course he will go. He won’t allow one woman to affect all aspects of his life—especially not when another, particularly delectable woman waits for him elsewhere. With a mighty jerk of his head, Rohan charges deeper into the Edge, allowing his stride to lengthen and his body to roll forth with all the grace and power of his Iberian ancestors. He forces his frustrations to leak into the ground, and remain rooted there, left behind where they will hopefully shrivel before finding him again. It is much easier to do so when the silver warrior comes into view. Pressing through the trees, his eyes are only for her at first, appreciating her nimble curves (now unburdened by pregnancy), and he offers her a crooked grin. “Nyx, sweetheart,” his deep voice rumbles almost playfully, and he reaches out to touch her cheek before settling loosely at her side. Broadening his attention to the other two, the Warlander glances at the other stallion to acknowledge his presence, before focusing on the mare behind him. As much as he would love to admire her figure, his eyes are drawn to the dark vapor seeping from her nostrils. How strange. “I’ll have whatever she’s having,” he laughs deeply, giving the smoking mare a clever wink. By all appearances, everything is fine. Just fine. “Speech.”
01-29-2016, 05:54 PM
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