Time peels slowly away as the sun chases his lover, the moon, around the earth for two cycles before I feel my mind slide back into my body. Blackened eyelids crusted over with two days worth of staring into an abyss lower and touch as a sigh forces through inky lips. I am no closer to an answer. Thoughts unsettled and refusing to cease their plaguing voices run, soar and plummet in my head and yet I remain shrouded in uncertainty. My brother will follow me wherever I go, or so his lips proclaim, but after searching for him for so long I find myself having trust issues. Fool girl, giving up on your savior? I am right, my thoughts persist. He saved me when he had no reason to and for that I swore silently on a silent hill that I will always find him; give him anything and everything he needs.

The lost little girl in my head speaks once more, Without him, you would have died. Indeed. Without Rift I doubt my current existence. Ears move back to flatten as the argument builds up once more, this time with my stomach rumbling its discontent in unison with a rather parched throat. Head tilts slightly to the side, confused, for the barest of moments. I have not moved from this spot, scarcely blinked, for two days. No sustenance crossed these dark lips and pale teeth.

It is no wonder my mind aches and pains me. Shifting young joints that are surprisingly stiff as though they belong to an elder, I force myself to move away from the small shelter I’ve lived in for days. Cerulean eyes, clouded by fatigue and hunger, seek out the nearest pile of snow as hooves shove it away to reveal a patch of grass not yet entirely dead again from winter’s rewrapping of Helovia. Parts of it are still green from the week of warmer weather and I eagerly sink into the meager meal. Once the patch is left decimated I push my legs into motion a second time; toward the unfrozen section of a creek not far quenching my thirst upon arrival.

Cobwebs begin to clear from my mind as the brightness finds its way back into my eyes. Audits twitch and a black tail flicks at the sound scuffling feet nearby. Curiosity grips me but I refuse to listen until I have completed my usual running through of all possible options and outcomes. Through the naked branches I see a male several inches taller than myself with a strange band around his midsection. Bloody Hell.. The words reach my ears as corners ache to lift in a smile; denied by the rules that govern my life. I allow one small infraction because of the strange band and with eyes burning bright hidden in an otherwise careful mask of neutrality, I break through the hedges separating us and softly find my voice,  “Hmm, not quite hell.”



"speech"

OOC:  Hello!

I admit it may have been foolish to approach a stranger who appears to have fallen on…confusing…times. Taking no pleasure in his obvious distress, I decided to break through the trees only to have my presence fall on blind eyes and deaf ears. This is where I felt a glimmer of regret for my approach, this frantic male clearly in no condition for company. I mentally snort at myself, You are not exactly appealing company yourself. Lips twitch for half a heartbeat at my self-derision though I never lie, not even to myself. It was then I chose to speak dispelling the laden atmosphere and surprising the stranger who should have been aware of me several minutes ago. Features locked into their effortless mask, I give no indication of witnessing his graceless shock. Rules, rules, rules I hear my mother’s voice whisper to my mind.

Cerulean eyes observe as he does, without subtlety or subterfuge. His hide matches mine only in its base, a swirling blend of soft browns and steely greys marring the onyx in way I can only describe as enchanting. I have never seen such a pattern before, but then again, I have not known many pegasi either.  He is far more muscular than I, seemingly a mix of the heavier draft breeds, and though I will never admit to it my eyes linger for a moment. My cataloging of his form is disrupted by a new charge in the air around us and quickly my eyes seek out his only to find them scanning my barrel and back intently. Onyx tail flicks out in a single warning; memories of another time and place threatening to erase my outward calm.

Elegance; always remain composed my mother’s whispering voice fills my head once more.

When did the mask slip down? Quickly I force my face to relax and morph back into line; all anxiety neatly vanquished. There is little I can do for the anxiety bunching my slender form even as I watch his mouth fall open. Expecting to hear his voice where it has been lacking in our interaction, I am unpleasantly denied. His lilac eyes stare hard and perhaps accusing before, at last, he speaks a minute later. The straining, shuffling noise of his wings attempting escape draws my attention and it is several heartbeats before I realize he is speaking another language intermixed with English. Dragging my gaze away from his failing wings, the sarcasm not lost on me, I watch him pin his ears back with one last phrase ringing out.

It is hard to remain composed in the face of lunacy

I stand silently trying to solve the riddle he presents. Bean Sidhe? He’s not dying tonight? My brain scrambles find any context clues or memories that may serve me well here. Having never heard this language before, surely I would recall such an alluring accent; I realize the answer is to simply ask. Ask a madman? Black lids slide closed for half a second before it is my turn to stare. “Perhaps you would care to explain how I would know to announce your death?”Vocals remain soft, elegance and composure are linked to this; never raise your voice above a pleasant octave. His tense state is not unobserved which aids my ability to stand calmly, the mask firmly in place. Curiosity though burns bright and I am not yet afraid of the fall, “And a translation would be lovely.” I risk another line as desperation sneaks into my mind; I want to know what he said in that beautiful yet accusatory speech.


"speech"

OOC: Do you want me to keep tagging you?

In my life I have generally been alone and left to my own devices with minimal contact with anyone else. I suppose if I were to be questioned on it I would have to say that I find the idea of conversing for the sake of conversing to be ridiculous in the extreme. I have always measured my words and dispensed them as though they are a precious commodity; naturally this served to further my isolation as most find this a disturbing trait and presume arrogance the source. Whispers behind rocks and trees not meant for me to hear everywhere I traveled and inquired as to my brother’s location. Little speeches meant to ridicule, hurt and wound my supposed pride were I to hear them. I have excellent hearing. Charcoal lids slide briefly closed against the memories; the past is not the present and I regretfully have not been attending the conversation as closely as I should while waiting for this stranger’s explanations
.
Remember, child, in all things you must be aware and calculating. The pestering voice of a presumed dead mother fills my head this third time.

I need no reminders of this yet my subconscious intervenes regardless. Clear eyes now shift to the side, observing for the first time his appearance beyond the unusual patterns of his hide and bearded face. Why does he bear summer’s coat? A flash of concern dances across midnight features, he is sweating slightly and has not the warmth of a winter’s coat. The expression is quickly smothered, there and gone in the space of heartbeat. His words soon reach me and draw my eyes back to his, blinking lazily as it suits me. I cannot tell what he is thinking but I sense the subtle change in the air as perhaps some fear ebbs away from him. The eternal mask I bear becomes difficult to hold upon the word “banshee”..he thinks me a screeching demon? Never have I heard myself described as such before, not even by the whispering fools of my memories.  Again he turns his gaze to my shoulders in confusion and I allow myself the barest moment of utter frustration but remain still as stone; a statuette.

Explain what happened to your wings? He finishes and I expel a small puff of air, the display of my frustration.

Blackened lips part and pull back, indifferent words on the tip of my tongue but immediately are swallowed back by the rustling sounds of another’s approach. Cerulean eyes turn to newcomer, unease threatening and stilling an already frozen form, my inexperience with others chafing against patience. Allowing my gaze to roam the mare’s features, I am tempted to relax. She seems most pleasant though I do not understand her speech and blink in surprise at the arrival of another foreign language to my ears. Her stockier frame is nothing if not lovely, curves forming in the right places balanced by budding muscle. It is clear she is younger than me though not by much and I quickly realize that I stand taller than she; something of a rare find for me. Dark brown eyes bear kindness and my own pools reflect it back to her until the stallion speaks out again and breaks through my façade slightly. For a few seconds my lips curl up into a bemused and hardly seen smile.

I look to him, the smile lingering slightly and reply softly, “Surely you do not think this one a banshee as well?” Turning away I address the mare next. “I do not understand.” My penchant for few words shining through, though I keep my tone light if not borderline friendly. The evening’s chill blows through then and I glance to the male curious how he is handling the frost and falling snowflakes. This new mare and myself have proper coats and I find myself thinking of other lands and how I suppose not everywhere sees the seasons at the same time as Helovia. Truthfully the weather is not a topic I pay close mind to and I enjoy standing in the rain as much as stretching out beneath the sun’s warmth. Another rustling sound breaks me from my silent musings and briefly I hope to find my brother descending from the skies. Knowing it cannot be him as he does not know where I currently am I feel a keen disappointment in my chest; an all too familiar ache building. Sure enough an even younger mare gracefully lands next to the foreign speaking mare and proceeds to examine everyone present as though they are under observation for a study. Neutrality firmly fixed in place, the former unease I felt pushing its way back and demanding I give it credence. Indeed, I easily give in and begin to formulate; weighing all options before me and debating with myself on how inappropriate it would seem if I were to simply turn and depart.

Deciding I care little what they may think of me I ignore the howling protests of my mother in the back of my mind and turn to go. Before I can put much action to use however the filly speaks and I stop squeezing eyes shut in unspoken annoyance. Fine, mother, you win. I turn back then, my new position placing me next to the male and I almost step away from him but compassion grips me when I notice a subtle tremor running the length of his spine. Instead of moving away, I shift so I stand mere inches from his banded wings so he can absorb what heat he can from me without contact. Physical contact is lost on me and in truth I dislike it immensely or I may have pressed a little closer.

Curse my compassion and damn these infernal rules.

The filly speaks again addressing the whole of the group once more and I raise an invisible brow at her announcement. Why she should think I would follow her is beyond my comprehension and my features and limbs freeze into their statuette form. Before I can speak my first companion of the evening does and I relax ever so slightly at his soothing tongue though I know not a word of it. He then appears to remember me and softly translates before looking sadly at the new fallen snow and saying another cryptic phrase. I quickly take my turn and this time my voice lacks light and is entirely indifferent though pleasant enough for my purposes. “Indeed it has, however I do not know why you would presume to have me follow you?” I cast a glance to my left at the stallion and for half a second confusion and concern share a dance in my eyes at his crestfallen expression.


"speech"

OOC: okay =)

I can see the filly’s countenance change swiftly and my heart twinges, snapping out an awkward rhythm until it passes. The same compassion that drew my blackened form closer to the summer’s coat was not found when perhaps it was truly needed and maybe, just maybe, I allowed my own irritations to take the lead. Yes, you were too hard on the child. My mother’s voice chastises me from its place in the deepest recesses of a conflicted mind. Azure eyes continue their study of her innocent face marking the differences between her and I. When she speaks, she apologizes for assumptions that just maybe were not as offensive as I allowed her believe; a heart edged in black twinges once more.  

The child turns and takes off in an impressive display of flight then and I quickly smother thoughts of my own apologies from charcoal lips as eyes are forced to turn away from the night sky. I send my gaze toward the foreign mare and allow those eyes to light a scant amount; truly I prefer not to chase away all those I meet despite my discomfort with crowds. Lips part to softly speak an introduction but a pause fills the space as my peripherals spy the male leaning closer. Elegant muscles not far relaxed instantly hold themselves still as the familiar mask surges to the front where it had been waiting in the wings. Somehow I missed his motions and now see his swirled from much too close to mine. Indeed I stood next to him with the intent to assist…several inches away; an ocean compared to the failing creek now separating us.

His accented tones reach my black peaks reducing the heat of anger building beneath the surface of my skin to a simmer for the time being. Apparently I am alone in my regret of the filly’s treatment. Deciding to forgive his actions in light of how frozen he must be and the lack of actual contact, my attentions are quickly turned back to the mare. Again, before words can fly her way the bizarre stallion shifts to displace the snow gathered on his form sending some of it to splash against me. Cerulean eyes turn emotionless yet piercing; a sharp gaze raking over his now snow free form. Black lids slide closed and my head swings back for a third attempt at addressing the mare while lids slowly open to reveal the scant light’s return from before.

Knowing she seems to not understand the common language the male and I share, a white socked leg lifts up with toe pointed back to myself. “Vu.” I quietly say, not intending to offend if indeed she understands the language but merely wanting her to know my name. Immediately after the name leaves my mouth I hear him announce summer never being so cold and I realize the reason for his lack of winter dress.  Shifting back to the corded beast, I elaborate, forgetting to mask statuesque features. “I am Vu, since you no longer appear to believe me a banshee.” A brief pause while I force chords to remain pleasantly neutral when his gaze holds mine. “It is Frostfall, winter, in Helovia where you now stand. As for a road, there are no paths I have seen large enough to be considered a road.” I allow my voice to trail away then, able but unwilling to say more as I fondly think on the old adage, “A word to the wise is enough”.

The wind dances through then, caressing my flesh with icy fingers and imparting a desire to seek my bed. Not knowing how to convey this longing to the foreign speaking mare, I decide I can wait a little longer until my brain formulates an effective way to communicate. I do not like the idea of leaving her to freeze or find her own shelter in the entrance to Helovia and truthfully wind-proof places are difficult to find in these woods. Cerulean eyes, now carefully encased in neutrality, turn back to him and I force myself to softly say, “You will not survive the night if you do not find shelter soon.” I think on the place I found to stay not far away and begin a silent debate on offering to share it with these two strangers until morning. The mare is sweet to all outward gazes and it is easy to decide on her part; the stallion though is a different matter. His words, though enticingly accented, are confusing and his mannerisms I find utterly lacking but that compassion from before creeps its way into my thoughts. A solitary swish of an onyx tail is the only warning before silence is broken.

“If you do not shower me with snow a second time, you may stay the night with me.” Shrouded eyes seek out both wondering if I leave whether or not the mare will catch on before coming to rest again on his lilac stained pools. He was a fool to move away from the warmth I previously offered and even greater a fool to press closer; seeking more than I can give. Physical touch is lost on this soul having never been embraced or even poked the first two and a half years of my short life. The space I offer will become rather cramped should three of us wait out the night inside it and contact will be difficult to avoid. Carved muscles unfreeze as my control slips and a sliver of a tremor runs the length of my body. He will die, if I do not help. is the mantra I set to replay even as tarnished hope now twinges my heart that maybe tonight I will not be alone. Hmm...loneliness is new.



"speech"

OOC:  

As I watch the unnamed best I dare not hold my breath and carefully begin the process of tucking away this new found emotion somewhere dark and far away from my conscious mind. Loneliness is not an obstacle I have encountered often in my young life, now do not mistake my meaning as I have generally been alone. A friend to none and known to many. For a solitary beat of my heart I succumb to the wistful longing building and imagine a world very much like that of my youth. In an instant, a memory laden and painful instant, images flash across my mind’s eye. A little girl smiling and nearly skipping in anticipation of the day’s upcoming adventure, wind tossing blackened tuffs of growing hair around her face. Her brother, Tausret, is taking her to observe the birds by the coast in all their winged glory. Soft blue eyes take in the sights on their way down to the cliffs where the birds live, glimmering brightly in open excitement; she has always loved the birds.

His singular response is what rips my soul back to this awful place where nothing is as my mind only seconds ago saw it to be.

Nothing passes through tightly locked inky lips and the fight to stow away the burgeoning sensation of actual loneliness is beginning to fail. Considering my numerous travels and what some would call adventures (how could I compare them to the idyllic days of my childhood?) one might call me a liar for announcing the lack of loneliness. It is never easy to banish emotions and memories to a place where the light will never shine on those dusty boxes. The more you are alone, however, the easier it becomes to shed one skin in favor for another.

Cerulean eyes now bearing unmasked sorrow glance to the woods beyond him while the crack is sealed in the wall and the light dims on several dusty boxes.

He speaks softly and my distracted ears strain to catch his words but soon I note how his language has changed; the lilting tones deceptively soothing despite the curtness. Charcoal lips move from their rigid pose and begin to speak even as eyes now safely masked follow his retreating form. “Truth, above all else.” A rule from the past held close to a tightly bound chest. I have been, by nature of my mission to find my brother, forced to do much to gain information but not once has a lie ever crossed these lips. Truthfully, his accusation wounds; Keep yourself tucked away Another phrase from a now dead mouth appears in my head and I struggle to obey as shimmering eyes turn to peer upon the nose being cautiously presented. Simultaneously a growingly familiar voice offers a return on an earlier gesture and unmasked features tilt into the barest of smiles. Sensing the need to confirm the identities spoken I raise that same half-socked leg to myself and speak,  “Vu” before extending an onyx hoof to her while saying, “Hildegunn?”

It is then that a cerulean gaze catches the flight of a sparrow and hope threatens to carve its way out of my soul. A soft voice reaches out while I gesture to the same path the unnamed fled down, “Follow him?” Despite his accusations I will see him safe; his present state worries at my conscious and I begin to slowly track after him, hoping Hildegunn understands and join in my pursuit.


"speech"

OOC:Vu leaves too. <3