Goddard sighed deeply as he carefully picked his way down the rocky hillsides. Hopefully this bloody territory would start leveling out again. His large frame was causing small rockslides, sending pebbles rolling and bouncing in his wake. His large hooves, while perfectly fine for stamping along plains and hills, were not suited to raw slate and loose gravel. He could feel tiny stones in the frog on his front right hoof and little annoying stabs of pain hit whenever he leaned his weight forward.
The noriker narrowed his bright blue eyes and stumbled a few yards forward, his ears pinned against his neck. His shoulders were quivering from the effort of keeping him from tumbling end over end. He could quite clearly imagine snapping his neck or breaking a leg against one of the spindly pine trees.
He snorted, flaring his nostrils and slowly making his way down to level ground. Now, to get the rocks out of his feet. The stallion looked around, and saw a broken pine bough pinned down by a few sizable rocks. He tucked his leg up, and limped slowly toward it. When he reached it he lifted his right forehoof and slowly, carefully scraped the gravel out of his fleshy heel.
With his hooves clean, Goddard tossed his head to get his wavy forelock out of his eyes, and looked around. The foothills died off into meadows. That was where he would head. He was still alone after the mercenary band he'd run with previously had died off, but his time away from Helovia had been a good journey. Now he was back, and hoping to pick up some new contracts.
| Up For Adoption atk: 4 | def: 8.5 | dam: 7 |
| Mare :: Equine :: 13.3hh :: 2 | Birdsong HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE |
| Adoptable |
The winding goat track which linked the old redwood forest to the vast, wild world beyond (in fact the only other area she had thus far visited, just to the south), wore upon its hardened surface the scars of many hooves; more horses than Hildegunn could have imagined existed in any one place. It was winter time when last she had ventured along its length, late in the season, and thawing snow had turned stiff clay then, to a rather slippery kind of mud. Now however, she found it to be far less precarious and concentrated her attention more on the brighter scenery surrounding.
Trees dotted along the way were not as stark naked as before they had been, gnarled arms reached high to capture the gloriously rich sunlight’s descent; new emerald dress upon them, flapping and fluttering noisily as the warming wind harried their rest. This spring time was like nothing the stout mare had ever witnessed before, and the curiosity etched thoroughly into her young, expressive countenance seemed never to weaken.
It was mid-afternoon and the burning, orange sun slipped slowly ever downwards through an endless blue sky. Paler primitive markings across both the young Fjord’s flanks and girth, were dimmed heavily by sweat caused by the exertion of one fit for the bitterest of climates, drawing it out of gaping pores like lava from a deep volcanic fissure. She was fairly tired and not quite certain why she had deemed such an excursion from the cool, moist comfort of the bamboo labyrinth, to be necessary at all.
There was reason enough nestled in the idle recess of her mind - it was where she had found life, company, for the first time after a journey still longer than three cycles of the moon, and inwardly she was desperate to find her dear brother there in much the same way. Surely he too had washed ashore; Hildegunn prayed yet for his welfare with faith undeterred, despite Skjoervø’s divine triplets all but abandoning her tribe.
She hadn’t progressed particularly far when movement ahead (more or less), attracted her attention. Another lingered not far from where she drew to an easy halt - she could see easily that he was a good size larger, both in barrel and height. Flaxen locks formed something like a halo about his enormous skull, veiled too across it’s face and all in all, the affable girl imagined him to be rather a lovely sort; presumably his nature would be similarly reflected. With a quiet snort, tongue smacking against sooty, grinning lips, she began her approach calling out as she went, “Hei vandrer!”
Goddard was entirely focused on what he needed to do to plan ahead. He would need food, a safe place to rest, plenty of running water. He could take over an acre or two of meadow for his own until he found a contract and things settled down; no one would dispute the territory due to his size, and if a herd showed up it was unlikely they'd bother him. They would do as herds did, take what they want, and move on. If the territory was already owned...well, there were ways around that. Being such a huge size meant he could take quite a few kicks, and most stallions had to rear to try and bite his face or neck. The most they could do was glancing shots to the withers or shoulders.
Yes, the meadows would do just fine for his purposes. He was about to get on finding a small stream and maybe some thistle when a scent drifted across his nostrils. Another horse, and this close to the borders. He sighed and looked in the direction of the mare as she called to him and made herself known.
A pony. Tiny little thing would have to crane her head up like a stargazing mule to see him. He eyed her a moment. No. He got the sense she was some airheaded, bubbly little thing that would hang on his backside like a tick. However, with her being so close he couldn't do much about it. He heaved a sigh and let her approach. "Does your herd own this land?" he asked. That was really the only question he cared about; whether his privateering would bring a gang down on his head.
| Up For Adoption atk: 4 | def: 8.5 | dam: 7 |
| Mare :: Equine :: 13.3hh :: 2 | Birdsong HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE |
| Adoptable |
With small ears trained forward, thick threads of (near) black and white swirling like a wrathful sea below, Hildegunn watched the stranger for any hint of animosity - instinct rather than common sense in truth. Other than a hefty heave of his mammoth barrel, the other’s body language volunteered no insight as to his mood and the little equine continued along at an ambling rate, never one to over exert or mind the patience of those perhaps waiting.
As she neared finally, round black hooves veered off the track and found instead of compacted earth, the soft, comfortable cushion of grass. Although and her kind brown eyes lifted ambitiously to behold his hulking frame, lips descended habitually, greedily, and swiftly stole a good mouthful of sweet spring grass for the remaining leg of her journey (those four or five strides still between them).
About that time his rumbling voice filled the air, and though she wasn’t particularly sure, Hildegunn imagined there to be a question lining the tone. Just in case his name had been concealed within - as would be appropriate given the pleasant nature of this, their first meeting, she nodded and replied, “Hil-di-gahn…” before gesturing at herself with a bobbing black muzzle (similar to the way Vu had done when they had originally met).
A generous smile ensued and the Fjord’s warm gaze embraced his face eagerly, for that was about all they could hold at one time. “Du er ny?” she probed boldly, “En reisende som meg selv?” She was quite new to this southern hemisphere after all, having spent far less than a season exploring (or, as it were, following the likes of Vu and Sean from grassy patch to grassy patch).
The queer little trio had barely scratched the surface of the language barrier thus far.
Nevertheless, Hildegunn was a friendly soul, blasé enough to push on through such obstacles. Curiously she watched him, monitored his expression with an artful eye, and waited ever patiently for the vast creature to respond - or react, diverting focus only briefly to snag another morsel from below.
Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
| Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER |
|
Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize
& Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage
Neo |
And why he was there, that was a question he had no means of answering.
Habit? Boredom? Restlessness? Frustration? Drunk on his own misery? Whatever the case, Mauja had ambled across half of Helovia again, and to everyone but himself it was obvious where he was going: the Threshold. All he had thought was, 'I need to get away', and when he had abandoned the mists of the Edge, years spent wandering the path between these two places had steered him in that direction. Long legs had eaten up the distance as the sun warmed his back, and the owls alternated between gliding on the winds or riding upon the crystal staff laying along his spine. He had grown used to its presence, tucked firmly beneath the leather straps of the satchel he wore.
He hadn't wanted to keep wearing the leather bag—it was a constant reminder of who it had belonged to, of the one who had left him behind. But between wearing it and carrying the staff around in his mouth .. practicality won out, and now, it almost felt comforting. It was like carrying a little bit of d'Artagnan around with him, though he sincerely hoped he wouldn't start talking to the bag.
And on the subject of talking: “Hei vandrer!”
Mauja stopped dead in his tracks. There was an aching familiarity nestled in the words, in the lilt and the cadence of the voice, though he didn't have the slightest clue what it meant (—no, screw that; his mother-tongue brain didn't have a single clue what it meant, but his Helovian mind whispered 'wanderer'). Hooked, and with Irma sitting on the staff and Diego off somewhere else, Mauja headed towards the source of the voice at a speedy walk.
And what he found was .. not what he had expected to find. The one talking was a tiny, tiny pony, looking even tinier next to a huge, bulky stallion who topped even Tembovu in height. Mauja's head canted to one side, and his long forelock slid off the side of his face. Some days in the Threshold were just peculiar.
The little mare kept talking in that bittersweet language of hers, and Mauja's dark-rimmed ears had swept forward to drink it all in. He couldn't precisely understand what she said, but .. but he understood enough. It was like that snow leopard spirit which had blessed him so long ago; she had spoken a similar tongue. His blue gaze settled on the fjord pony. "Ég held ekki að hann skilur þig," he said, pleased and not entirely sure why. (Maybe because the darkness is held at bay, for now.) "Welcome to Helovia, both of you. I am Mauja."
[ /crashes party, hover on text for translation ]
lord, the demands you're making-
help the monster on two feet
walk him down the hall, repeat
and when he's strong enough to stand alone
you'll notice what big teeth . . .
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here
| Up For Adoption atk: 4 | def: 8.5 | dam: 7 |
| Mare :: Equine :: 13.3hh :: 2 | Birdsong HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE |
| Adoptable |
All in all, the towering creature seemed little interested in Hildegunn as she lingered patiently in his dull shadow. The small horse’s eager eyes soon tired of their ambitious quest to ignite anything more engaging, than the blandness of indifference and disregard; they lowered a short time later, glazing a little before then wandering towards the tree line for respite. As she sighed quietly, shifting thought gradually from the stallion to the prospect of her nextactual meal, a flicker of light through the dimness of the forest beyond struck her fancy. Lithe ears swivelled forward instantly, honing in on the tall figure of yet another character emerging through a barrier of soft, fresh foliage.
The smile the young fjord mare had first given to the mottled brown nearby, promptly returned in favour of the (seemingly) friendlier soul who soon graced their presence; a soft whicker slipped by uplifted, rattling nostrils, and subconsciously, stocky limbs turned her focus still further away from the first. Without delay Hildegunn found firstly the tapering addition to his face (or skull?), and observed it with a boldly inquisitive eye. Never had she seen such a peculiar disfigurement. The look of it, perhaps the hue, invoked fond memories of her part-frozen homeland - in particular the frosted, sharp, glimmering peaks of unreachable mid-sea mountains. His eyes, she discovered as her own warm brown gaze dropped to find them, were the same bright, icy blue as the churning water that caressed those icebergs. Still more surprising was the almost familiar tongue which slipped readily from his dark mouth. Again her eyes sank, this time settling upon dark lips as they rolled and pursed around the hum of new words which she felt this time, were more similar to Vu’s.
Quietly, and with a more thoughtful look smoothing the lines of stupefaction from her sandy profile, the little horse considered dumbly his arrival. Though weakened a little, the cheerful smile remained.
After a lengthy pause, Hildegunn replied.
“Hil-di-gahn…” In the same moment she gestured (again like Vu had shown her), towards herself with a small dip of her nose. Her theory was that the stallion’s name should follow the revelation her own - or such was the course of the couple of conversations experienced in Helovia thus far. “Ja?” she added hopefully, nodding (maybe a little too) enthusiastically, and forgetting for the moment the other, who had more or less slipped from thought. Had he not been so enormous - and she been a little more perceptive, the girl might have noticed the other oddities about him - most obviously (but clearly not as exciting as the ‘horn’), the pale bird resting upon a long crystal stick, both fast upon his spotty back.
@Mauja - let me know if things are wrong. If you are happy to continue and Goddard doesn't reply, I would be happy to branch into a new thread.
@Goddard - jump back in whenever you like (it's your thread lol)
Goddard eyed the little pony as she continued to blither on in her language at him. Ye gods, not only was this little thing running at the mouth like a magpie, she couldn't speak a lick of a tongue he understood. He pinned his ears back in irritation; of course he had to get the foreigner. Worse still, she had the attention span of a gnat, and wandered over the moment another person arrived. Apparently, the Threshold was full of them today.
Though it seemed the second one actually spoke something he could understood, and introduced himself as Mauja. The pony seemed to consistently dribble the noise 'Hildegunn', so Goddard fathomed that was her name.
"I've been gone a long time." Goddard said in his own thundering baritone to Mauja, looking at the pony as she browsed the grass and seemed to begin to ignore him in favor of the fellow with the long spike in the middle of his forehead. Goddard was cautious. He didn't think such a thing would be convenient in war, as the use of such an awkward implement meant blinding or dizzying oneself by swinging one's head around. However, it could be of use for quick, irritating slashes. Both of the strangers seemed friendly enough.
"Ponies." he snorted derisively as Hildegunn stared in wonder at Mauja. "I've always found them a little excitable. Like small dogs." He stepped forward to regard Mauja properly, not giving a toss as to the smaller creature in his way. As far as he was concerned, the blabbering foreigner could either be moved aside or shouldered aside.
"I will be in need of work soon. I once was of use to this land as a mercenary. I don't suppose you know of anywhere looking for work?" He asked Mauja.
(I had to leave for a week. Finals.)
@hildegunn - Might want to have her move, as he thoroughly intends to step on her and/or shove her away.
Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
| Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER |
|
Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize
& Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage
Neo |
05-18-2016, 10:31 AM
(This post was last modified: 05-18-2016, 10:36 AM by Mauja.)
[ This post is terrible, my brain has melted. ]
Now that he stopped and thought about it . . .
. . why the fuck was he here. Why. He didn't like people. He didn't want company. He didn't—he didn't even want to bring anyone back to the Edge. Because everyone sucked and life sucked and la la la la.
It was strange, really. On one hand he felt ..oddly at peace with the situation; and on the other, his mind was roaring at him to get the hell out of there. “Hil-di-gahn…” the tiny pony said, after staring at him in a sort of starstruck fashion, gesturing to herself. "I've been gone a long time," the other said, as if that somehow explained shit. (It didn't.) And having three languages going on in his head at the same time felt pretty surreal, like he'd suddenly wandered into a strange dream—if he opened his mouth, what kind of jumbled mess would come out? So he opened his mouth, because he was curious, but he didn't have the time to say anything. The tall stallion went on, saying "Ponies." in a way that rubbed Mauja in exactly all the wrong directions. What the hell was wrong with ponies? And the way he said it—did he automatically belong to some kind of tall horse club, where everyone was snobby and snooty, just because he was tall? Why the hell would Mauja be his buddy just because he happened to be fairly tall as well..?
"My boyfriend is a pony," he said, smooth as fresh snow, features barely shifting as the words tumbled out of his mouth; there was a faint note of hurt in his voice. Like, don't fucking judge who I love and nevermind the fact that Mauja neither had a boyfriend nor really knew any ponies. It was just so incredibly rude.
And it hit so incredibly close to home.
Ponies—
Equines, Pegasus—
Superiority, just in a different guise. Arrogance, by virtue of blood. A deep, profound belief that one is better based on mere physical grounds. Once, it had been Mauja standing in the Threshold, preaching supremacy based on the fucking fact that he had a horn.
And now this nameless stranger was doing the exact same, except it was about height—a superficial trait which made the concept ten shades more ridiculous. A shudder traveled down his soul as he glanced down at the poor pony. Would she understand what was going on? Aside from the brute trying to shove her aside, that was; that one wasn't very subtle.
So maybe you were supposed to be nice in the Threshold. Maybe you were supposed to be good and recruit people. Show your best side.
Fuck that.
Mauja wasn't here to be bought. If this tall, thick stranger wanted to sell himself he'd have to do a damn fucking better job. Mercenary. Bah. Mercenaries were always full of shit. (I should know, I've been one—) And he wanted work. Work. Well, what kind of work?
His brain glitched out again. (Poor Hildegunn.) His stance shifted subtly; his neck arched to create a supple curve, and his blue eyes were soft, framed by long lashes as he peered up at the taller stallion. Raising his tail slightly—coyly—he drew a step closer, lingering in the motion for a moment as a little smile curved dark lips. All this little charade took was .. replacing 'mercenary' with another word .. and suddenly you had an entirely different scenario going on. And his justification? Bah! He'd just spat out some foreign language at the pair of them, he'd just claim it was a cultural misunderstanding or some such shit.
"Work? You should try the Valley of the Dicks," he murmured, a husky, silky whisper slipping out into the air between them.
Misplacing all your marbles had to have some sort of upside to it, and in the back of his soul, Diego was cackling madly.
[ Mauja, trolling the threshold since 2012... <___< ]
lord, the demands you're making-
help the monster on two feet
walk him down the hall, repeat
and when he's strong enough to stand alone
you'll notice what big teeth . . .
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here
|
.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
