the Rift

[OPEN] but tell me now, where was my fault?

Rohan Posts: 132
Outcast atk: 4 | def: 8.5 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.0 :: 8 years HP: 66 | Buff: NOVICE
Éomer :: White-tailed Eagle :: Scream Reli
Lend me your hand and we’ll conquer them all
but lend me your heart and I’ll just let you fall.
Lend me your eyes
I can change what you see—
but your soul you must keep,
totally free.
It could be ironic that, of all the places in Helovia, the Warlander finds himself here. With pale hooves resting heavily among the snow and grass, over packed earth that had once been overturned by his own doing, at the roots of this particular tree, it is as though he has been placed—pulled, heaved, and fitted—into this very spot. And not for the first time. Brown lips press together as he suppresses a laugh, only to allow something of a bark to rumble from his chest a moment later. Life will never cease to mock and laugh at his face—so why not laugh back?

The length of his tail whips once around his burly rump, the creamy tassels caught for a moment in a cold breeze before they fall to brush the ground. There is some part of him that is desperate to leave, to flee from this place and abandon the memories engrained here—but he doesn’t. He can’t even move. There is another part, a deeper part of him that sits heavily in his gut, spreading through his bones until he is rooted where he stands.

It is the part of him—a hidden, secret place that he keeps carefully hidden from everyone, even himself (especially himself)—the part of him that doesn’t want to leave. In some desperate, cruel way, he clings to these memories, these feelings, that he might never forget.

And the harder he pushes them away, the more they tighten around his heart.

It is a battle that he only half-heartedly fights to win.

Sighing heavily, Rohan lowers his head, closing his eyes in a long blink before he hears something. It is the soft clinking of metal, light and mellow, nearly lost to the cool breeze. A dark-rimmed ear twitches, nostrils curling as he raises his eyes to peer through the branches—still bare from the grips of winter—making the glittering band of gold easy to see. Furrowing his brow and wondering how he hadn’t noticed it before, the Warlander reaches up, rising to a half-rear in order to touch the jeweled bracelet and brush it from the branches.

It falls unceremoniously to the frozen ground, green eyes watching it with a reserved sort of wonder. His mind quickly spins a fantasy of the tree, the child that lay beneath its roots, and this jewel-leafed band that has fallen from its branches, tethering it to those infernal ropes that are already wrapped around his heart. Stepping forward to place a hoof in the bracelet, he works it up to his upper leg, where it rests softly but firmly (not unlike those hellish cords entrenched in his chest).

notes; First post in weeks and omg I might actually like it =O
awake my soul
@Alysanne | image credits
[Image: 57c5195f31f1b_by_relibelli-db9li1z.png]
please tag Rohan in all replies!
magic & force is permitted, excluding death or permanent injury.

Alysanne the Devoted Posts: 641
World's Edge Queen atk: 7 | def: 10 | dam: 3.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 hh :: 11 years HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Hemlock :: Flammulated Owl :: Heal & Cypress :: Great Horned Owl :: None Sarah

we heal with love

They had been wandering, eager to get out of the Edge - eager to see if distance would drain away the anger she had been feeling in that herd lately. And it did. Granted, for the first day she had been travelling it had only gotten worse - obsessing over each and every word that had been yelled and spoken. It felt like she was fracturing, little pieces of herself falling away until the mare that was standing in her place was someone that she didn’t even recognize.

Things were easier the next day - easier to breathe, easier to think.

Frostfall still had a firm grip on Helovia but she was starting to notice the chances, the first flush of buds on the oaks of the Thistle Meadow - the slight scent of life mingling with the cold scent of the snow.

She had been inspecting some of these buds on a low lying branch, looking for signs of just how far away Birdsong was, when movement near one of the other trees caught her attention.

Although there was a brief flicker of annoyance at recognizing one of her herd mates (were they everywhere?) it was very brief. She chided herself, and Hemlock joined in the guilt-trip, for assuming that everyone from the herd was going to inspire her to grow as bitter and hateful as Tembovu did. She had once been friendly and welcoming, had once made it a point to know all of her herd mates - not just meet them once but actually know them. Learn who they were and befriend them. She didn’t even know this stallion’s name, she had no reason to shy away from him.

The name had been heard at some point, possibly at the meeting? It was aggravating, how deeply she had receded into her shell. How much she had missed in the meantime.

With Hemlock taking off, leaving behind kindly meant (if harshly put) encouragement, Alysanne watched as the antlered stallion reached up to knock something small and gold off of a branch. Filled with curiosity, and with a smile sparking in her green eyes, she approached slowly - stopping nearby with her wings folded at her sides. “I didn’t know the trees here grew jewellery.” There’s just a small, quick laughter - testing out her first joke in… well, a long time. Her gaze shifted from the gold bracelet to the green eyes of this herd-mate stranger. “You’re from the Edge, right? I’m Alysanne, one of the healers there.”

alysanne & hemlock

image credits

@Rohan it was a lovely post, you should be proud! <33
please tag Alysanne in replies
[Image: alysanne_by_schwartze-d89se15.png]
made by the lovely tamme
non-life threatening physical force is allowed at all times, but preference is to be checked with beforehand for any injuries

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