the Rift


[OPEN] drowning games

Arakh Posts: 77
Dragon's Throat Stallion atk: 5 | def: 8 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 17'2hh :: 2 HP: 66.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Snow
#1


Mother told him not to wander away from the Edge. You're too young, she said, ever so sternly, using that patented Death Glare that only a mother can possibly summon. If you want to go outside the Edge, I'll come with you. She'd said the same to Esinakh, and Arakh wonders if his twin has as much disregard for their dam's instructions as he does.

Probably. They're two halves of the same whole, after all.

He'd been content to heed her command for a couple of weeks, happy to frolic inside the Edge with Esi and get to know their home, and follow joyously on the handful of occasions when Nyx took her twins to interact with their father. But any adventurous little boy soon feels the call of the wild, and the bull-horned youth is no different. He feels a heavy stab of remorse at leaving his twin behind, as they do so much together, but he'd wanted to make his first proper journey outside the Edge alone. It is like a coming of age, a rite of passage...and he wouldn't want to get his sister in trouble, because he's quite sure Mother is going to be furious when he returns home.

After he's illicitly darted over the Edge borders at a headlong gallop, there's only one direction Arakh has any intention of going. Mother has ensured that her twins regularly meet their sire, the great behemoth of a man whom Arakh holds an untold amount of awe for, but he's never interacted with Gaucho alone. Esi and Mother are always there, and the colt simply wants to meet his Ave when it's just him. So his path immediately turns to take him towards the Throat, following the scent-trail caused by Mother's many jaunts between Edge and Gaucho's herd.

He alternates between a trot and a gallop, his wings trailing along behind him like a pair of feather dusters. He hasn't yet started learning how to fly, so he's resigned to the ground during his long trek. Soon, he is aching and tired, because this journey hadn't seemed nearly as long when he'd had a regular supply of his mother's milk to keep him nourished. He doesn't dare stop and rest for too long, for fear he will be eaten by an opportunistic predator, and his stout young legs are soon wobbling weakly from the effort.

Just when he's beginning to wonder if he has made an awful mistake, the exhausted colt reaches the edge of the world itself. This is familiar to him, and he looks expectantly for the land bridge to lower. It doesn't. He frowns, waits a little bit longer; still nothing. Well, that won't do. Mother will have realised he's gone now; she'll be searching for him soon. He's losing valuable minutes by waiting here, minutes that he could be spending with his beloved Ave.

Arakh pouts, furrowing his brow. The Throat island doesn't look that far away....flying surely can't be that hard....the colt makes up his mind quickly, spurred on by his desire to spend as much time with Gaucho as possible. He unfurls and ruffles his wings, admiring them for a moment. They appear sturdy enough...and think how proud Ave will be when his youngest son lands, ever so elegantly, upon his shores! The boy reverses, deciding that a run up is the best way to do it...he breaks into a gallop again, his tiredness forgotten in his eagerness to taste flight for the very first time...

He leaps off the cliff and, for one glorious moment, he catches the wind beneath his wings. He's flying, and it's amazing...the early evening light catches the waves beneath him and causes them to reflect their light back at him, it's gorgeous, it's stunning, he's flying...

Until he's not. He wobbles, and suddenly his wings are angled all wrong; they're not catching any air beneath him, they're not strong enough, he's falling. An ungainly feel of weightlessness sends his stomach lurching as he falls, crashing into the ocean below with an almighty splash. He thrashes, upside down, water filling his nostrils, ears, eyes; he can't see, he can't breathe, until by some stroke of fortune he finds which way is up and bursts through the surface, gasping in the salty air. His feathered wings fill with water and weigh him down, and he doesn't know how to swim - he flails his legs, hoping that will keep him afloat, and panic grips his heart like a vice. "Ave! Ave! Arakh need help!" he yells, as loud as his exhausted lungs can manage. Oh, what if his Father isn't home? What if nobody ever finds him? What if this is where he's doomed to die - drowning in the sea, drowning from his own stupidity?

ARAKH THE REAVER


@Gaucho

[ ARAKH ]
Ascended Helovian

Gaucho The Wildfire Posts: 1,004
Deceased atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.2 :: 12 HP: 85 | Buff: PINNACLE
Mara :: Black Mamba Snake :: Paralyze & Vorsa :: Plain Zephyr :: Phoenix Odd
#2


Gaucho was ever watchful, even now, despite the fact that the things he watched were no longer always real. Hallucinations danced before his eyes, stealing precious hours of his time in mere seconds. Days flew by in the blink of an eye, and Gaucho was left desperately grasping at the last semblance of his sanity. Mara and Vorsa were no help. They felt the blackness begin to colour their bond to Gaucho and tried to keep their minds free and clear of the muck that had already taken over him. They pair remained mentally distant from their bonded, as if any interaction with his brain would infect their own minds, but they remained physically close, guiding him to water and nourishment and alerting him as best they could when something external to him required his attention.

As it did now.

Vorsa hooted urgently as she watched Rak approach their borders. She pulled on Gaucho's mane with her talons, trying to force his blocky skull to rise. Gaucho, who was watching an imaginary shark in the waters below (was it imaginary?), did not move. The phoenix looked to Mara with a worried expression, before turning back to the bull-headed boy who was now running towards the open waters. Her bright golden eyes widened and she trilled and ear-piercing alarm. Taking matters into her own hands, metaphorically speaking, Mara hissed loudly and sank her long fangs into the soft spot behind Gaucho's ear. Blood immediately began to flow as the snake peeled back part of his skin, opening the wound to the salty and hot air. At this, Gaucho grunted loudly, ears pinning and his head immediately rising. His black lip rose in a snarl, but before he could think of retaliating against the snake, both of their voices flooded his mind at the same time.

SSSSON. NOT. FLY.

Immediately Gaucho was on the move. His body was thrown off of the sandy cliffs of the Throat, but unlike young Rak, his fiery wings were more than capable of carrying his weight above the frothy waves. An imaginary shark leaped from the water to try and grab his tail, but the dun neatly avoided it. 

"HEAD UP." Gaucho bellowed across the gulf, instructing the boy to keep his head up and above the waves whatever the cost. All it would take was one lung-full of the salty brine to put an end to his young life. 

Gaucho angled his inferno of a body (both inside and out now, thanks to the parasite), towards the drowning boy. His black hooves skimmed the water as he roared across the water's choppy surface. As he neared Rak, Gaucho allowed his wings to slow which caused his body to sink under the waves. The dun's larger body angled to try and act as a shelf for the boy to stand on. Gaucho's wings continued to beat even under the water, trying to force the boy forward towards the shore, propelled by Gaucho's large body. The fire from his wings continued to burn under the water, illuminating Gaucho's heavily barred legs as they tried to pull the pair into shore. 

Image Credits

Arakh Posts: 77
Dragon's Throat Stallion atk: 5 | def: 8 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 17'2hh :: 2 HP: 66.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Snow
#3


The colt's young limbs - still weak and spindly, not yet coated with the muscle that will one day haul him across the ground without a care - thrash as much as they can, but their beats grow slower as exhaustion coats him like a blanket. The waves push against him, trying to pull his head under; his sodden wings are like lead weights on his back. He thinks of Mother, and hopes she won't blame herself for his death - he thinks of Esi, and his heart lurches as he realises what his demise will do to her. They are one, and without him she will never be the same again...

HEAD UP!

It's a voice; is it the voice of Heaven? Is he already dead? But no, it's his father, his ave, the khal, his wings aflame, his strength defiant. Hope flares through the calf as the anxious beats of his legs grow stronger again, as if drawing from the mere presence of the man who made him. "Ave!" he gargles through the water that fills his throat, his young brow furrowed into determination as he forces his head to stay above the water. He can't die, not when his Father is here, the Wildfire, the man who can save anybody.

Suddenly, Gaucho is underneath him; Arakh's exhausted limbs touch the stallion's broad back as Gaucho thrusts him upwards and towards the shore. He crashes against pebbles and rocks, grazing his knees and jarring his muscles, but the ground has never felt so good. The colt simply lays there a moment, revelling in the fact he's alive, marvelling at his own existence. He's too tired to stand, so he simply rests against the stones, his sparrow's chest heaving up and down with the force of his breaths. He shifts his eyes towards Gaucho, feeling shame burn against the backs of his lids. Mother had been right. He shouldn't have left her. He should have stayed in the Edge, as he was told.

He blinks sadly towards his father, hoping he isn't going to be too angry. "Mai told Arakh not to leave Edge, but Arakh want to see Ave alone. Arakh think, flying not look so hard...Arakh wrong." The colt can feel himself shivering as the water dries against his skin. It's not a cold day by any means, but he is unused to regulating his own temperature when he normally has his mother to snuggle into. The shock adds to his quivers, as he tries not to contemplate how close he came to dying. "Arakh sorry." Shamefaced, he stares at the ground near to Gaucho, humililation burning through him.

ARAKH THE REAVER

[ ARAKH ]
Ascended Helovian

Gaucho The Wildfire Posts: 1,004
Deceased atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.2 :: 12 HP: 85 | Buff: PINNACLE
Mara :: Black Mamba Snake :: Paralyze & Vorsa :: Plain Zephyr :: Phoenix Odd
#4



Gaucho does not collapse to the ground as his son does, but instead stands sentinel over him. Before offering a word, the dun pulls his wings back and beats the blackened feathers forward. In battle this causes an obliterating wall of fire to emerge, but this is not a battle, and while a wall of fire does pour from Gaucho's already burning wings, there is no accompanying pain. The flames fly over Rak with the same amount of heat that a warm summer's day might produce. The flames have the power to knit bone, to clear the boy's lungs of water, and even to repair skinned knees.

Two bears composed of flame pour from a silvery smoke leaving Gaucho's antlers. They rumble forward silently on limbs of roaring fire and stand by the boy, their bodies offering heat to the water logged colt. 

Gaucho snorts his amusement as the boy concluded that flying was perhaps not as easy as he thought. For a few moments it seemed the dun's mind was intact, and while he didn't let it linger on questions of madness or reality, he did allow himself to believe that what he was seeing was real. 

With a concerned hoot, Vorsa landed near the bull-horned boy, her golden eyes peering up into his, clearly concerned for his safety. 

Gaucho's broad blue-striped shoulders shrugged at Rak's apology. It was not any of his rules that the boy had broken, and while he assumed Nyx had good reason to try and keep the boy (and his twin) within the safety of the Edge where they could be watched, boys would be boys. If anything, Gaucho approved of seeing an adventurous streak in his son, rather than an obedient one. 

"You safe. It fine. " Gaucho grunted with a smirk, no indication of disappointment or annoyance present on his primal features. 
"Gaucho teach Rak to fly in Throat. Sands much easier to land on. No swimming lessons required." 

Pulling back a step, Gaucho nosed towards the boy indicating that he should rise.

Image Credits

Arakh Posts: 77
Dragon's Throat Stallion atk: 5 | def: 8 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 17'2hh :: 2 HP: 66.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Snow
#5


He can't help it; he twitches as Gaucho sends a torrent of flame towards him, wondering if immolation is to be his punishment. But when the fire touches him, wraps around him, he feels no pain. Instead, he feels the water in his lungs expel from his mouth, feels the grazes on his knees knit back together. He manages to stagger to his feet, invigorated and healthy again, none the worse for his inadvertant swimming lesson. "Ave heal with fire?" The boy's voice is impressed, his eyes wide with admiration. Two bears of flame prowl next to him, and he gratefully seizes their warmth as his fur slowly begins to dry.

His father's phoenix lands nearby, hooting with concern, and the colt extends his muzzle to try and softly blow air towards her in greeting. "Vorsa very pretty," he says, happily oggling the zephyr. His shame and bad mood have faded away to be replaced with joy that he's managed to achieve his goal (albeit not quite in the way he'd planned) and has his father all to himself. Gaucho declares that he's safe, so it's fine, and the calf deflates with relief. If only his mother was so open-minded!

His father continues, and delight flares across the calf's eager young features. "Ave teach Arakh to fly?" he blurts, hardly able to believe his luck. "Esi will be so jealous." As much as he adores his twin, Arakh can't help the competitive streak that burns through him. He feels guilty that Esinakh is missing out on alone time with their father, but he's sure she'll repay him in kind by coming out to visit Gaucho by herself one day as well.

The youngster bounces closer to his sire, flapping his still-damp wings in excited anticipation. Flying lessons with his Ave? Maybe almost-drowning would be worth it after all!

ARAKH THE REAVER

[ ARAKH ]
Ascended Helovian

Gaucho The Wildfire Posts: 1,004
Deceased atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.2 :: 12 HP: 85 | Buff: PINNACLE
Mara :: Black Mamba Snake :: Paralyze & Vorsa :: Plain Zephyr :: Phoenix Odd
#6



The dun chuckled and nodded. "Gaucho can kill with fire and heal with fire. Sun God's gifts very powerful. Do many things." He grunted appreciatively, nodding his bone-pierced muzzle towards the creations that were currently hovering to keep the boy warm. It was the Sun God whose markings glowed on his antlers, the Sun God's magic that caused fire to blossom on Gaucho's wings constantly, and it was the Sun God's kingdom over which Gaucho ruled.

The phoenix trilled brightly and happily as the colt acknowledged her presence. She didn't want too close to him, for fear of burning him with her blazing body, but she did hop close enough that her wings cast warm patterns on his dark forelegs.

Gaucho shook his antlered skull with mock disapproval. "Gaucho teach Esi too." He corrected, large skull tilting as it continued to shake. The dun had sired more than enough twins to know that what was done for one, had to be done for the other. Besides, Nyx couldn't fly, and he wasn't about to leave the tutelage of his offspring in the hands of the Edge. Not when they were still ruled by the Moon Bitch.

"Come. Hard to fly when wings are wet. We use bridge, and practice on other side." Gaucho began to move towards the fiery bridge. The part which would hold them up above the water grew solid, albeit covered in fire, at his approach. "You know, it Gaucho that put this bridge here. Once, bridge was made of earth. Anyone could come across. Now Throat protected by fire." The Wildfire's voice was filled with pride as he recounted these memories. The quest he had to fulfill was long and arduous, but he had done it. And now the Throat had a defense unlike anything Helovia had ever seen before.

Image Credits
Please tag me in every post! Magic/Force is allowed on Gaucho at any time.


Arakh Posts: 77
Dragon's Throat Stallion atk: 5 | def: 8 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 17'2hh :: 2 HP: 66.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Snow
#7


The calf's ears prick forwards with interest as his father mentions a Sun God. "Sun God?" He has not yet been educated in the Gods and their powers, although he's heard his mother mention them (combined with many, many swear words that Arakh doesn't even want to know the meaning of) whenever she trips over something in the Edge. He looks to the fire-bears, and envy snatches at the air in his throat. To command fire, to bend it to his will...He wants that. He pouts for a moment, but quickly brightens. If he can't have fire, flying lessons will make a very nice substitute.

A giggle slips from him as Vorsa's searing feathers cast pretty patterns across his legs, and he gives a little buck out of sheer good spirits as he trots after his sire towards the land bridge. An expression of deep awestruck reverence bursts its way across his innocent young features as Gaucho reveals that he put the land bridge here, that prior to him coming here, anybody could have wandered into the Throat. "How long has Ave been Khal here?" The colt has little concept of time, but he can just about grasp the enormity of things that are bigger-than-him. That is most things, at the moment. This land bridge looks old, and Gaucho looks old too (but not weak, not like the bow-backed deer with grey fur and limps that his mother has pointed out to him, that Dominus gleefully preys upon.)

He flutters his wings, eager to get them dry so they can begin their flying lessons. In the meantime, he bounces keenly upon his heels, almost bursting with questions to the extent that he doesn't know which to ask his father first. "When Arakh can fly, can visit Ave all the time! Without swimming." The thought is quite delightful, although he spares a thought for his poor mother trying to control two air-happy children.

ARAKH THE REAVER

[ ARAKH ]
Ascended Helovian

Gaucho The Wildfire Posts: 1,004
Deceased atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.2 :: 12 HP: 85 | Buff: PINNACLE
Mara :: Black Mamba Snake :: Paralyze & Vorsa :: Plain Zephyr :: Phoenix Odd
#8



Gaucho is mildly surprised that his son does not know of the Sun God. He shouldn't be of course, but is just the same. Afterall, all children born on his sands are aware of their fiery deity from almost their first breath, after all it is his light that constantly warms the bloody sands upon which many wars have been fought. Though, he supposes, his bull-horned son might have been born on his sands, but he was not raised on them.

"Sun God most powerful of all the Gods." He began, his voice a rumbling stream of adoration and pride.  "Control light and fire. He choose Gaucho to be first one he ascended."

At his child's second question, Gaucho had to pause and think. How long had it been now? He had ruled these sands for what seemed like endless seasons, yet not for so long that he had forgotten the faces of Midas and Kri... Still, time had gotten away from him somehow, and the Sultan found that he genuinely could not remember how long he had led the Dragon's Throat.  "Many and many moons." He said after a moment, his blue-striped shoulders shrugging slightly.  "Firesofs".

All the while Gaucho had been moving towards an area of the Throat populated by sand dunes. They varied in height, with some being over 40 meters tall, whereas others stood no higher than Gaucho did. It was here that the Wildfire had done most of his flight-instruction, for the sand was soft when landings were poor, and the variable height of the dunes allowed for beginners to experiment with gliding.

"Arakh can always visit Throat. Throat is Gaucho's family. Even though Arakh live in Edge, Arakh still part of Throat family too." None of Gaucho's offspring had ever been raised away from him, and suddenly the Sultan found himself mildly annoyed. Surely the boy was done nursing? If so, what business did he have being in the Edge? What was there that could possibly be better than the Throat? The Edge with it's damp mists and Moon Bitch couldn't hold a candle to the Throat. However now was not the time to voice such concerns, nor should those concerns likely be voiced to Arakh. It was with Nyx he'd likely have to speak should he wish to alter their current custody agreement.

But now was not the time, now was a time for flying.

"We start there-" Gaucho began, nosing towards one of the dunes which was by no means the smallest. It stood probably 5 meters high. Gaucho climbed its slope with ease, his muscles and hooves used to moving across the sands and waited for Arakh at the top. "Spread wings. Tilt to catch breeze. When run forward, don't look down. Where eyes go, body goes. Look up. Not trying to fly now, only to glide. Beat wings only few times, then angle and land. Watch."

The Wildfire retreated a step then picked up an easy canter and lunged off of the dune. His antlers were tilted up towards the sky as his fiery wings beat once or twice. He glided in lazy arc downwards, landing gracefully on the sands. Turning around, he nodded to Arakh. "Now you go."



Firesofs = years

Image Credits
Please tag me in every post! Magic/Force is allowed on Gaucho at any time.


Arakh Posts: 77
Dragon's Throat Stallion atk: 5 | def: 8 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 17'2hh :: 2 HP: 66.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Snow
#9


His ears prick forwards as Gaucho speaks of the Sun God. Light and fire. He knows nothing of light, but fire....fire is the most majestic, the most destructive, of all the elements. A God that controls fire...of course Arakh will worship him. Mother has shown him her magic - her electricity, flesh-sizzling power that makes his hair stand on end, but it is nothing compared to the pure, raw rage of fire.

Arakh hopes that, one day, he will be blessed by this Sun God's gifts as well. He thinks this, of course, without knowing that he already carries the Sun's power in his veins.

His father ponders for a moment over how long he has ruled here, then simply answers with years. The colt nods his bull-horned head sagely, not quite comprehending how long years are, but knowing they're long. He begins to scan the area as they walk towards some varying-sized dunes, perfect for launching oneself one to try and catch the air. For the first time, nerves begin to pulse around the calf's system and his ears wobble anxiously on top of his head as he looks between the dunes. What if he makes a fool of himself in front of his idolised father? What if Gaucho sends him back to the Edge with his tail between his legs, because his wings don't work as they should?

He shivers, despite the heat in the Throat, and listens intently to his sire's words. His fretting is somewhat allayed when Gaucho says he will always be family, even if he lives in the Edge, but he can't help but wonder if the Wildfire would still say that after he witnessed his son faceplant a sand dune after a failed flight.

Gaucho easily ascends a frighteningly tall dune, and Arakh scampers up it after him with as much energy as he can muster. He slips and slides on the sand and has to bat his wings to steady himself, but manages not to fall over in his eagerness to impress, even though he's breathing heavily by the time he reaches the top. He glances down and smothers a gulp as he realises how high they are - the sand doesn't look nearly as soft from up here. But his sire's instructions are clear, and his demonstration even moreso. He makes it look easy, and Arakh wonders if Gaucho once stood atop a dune with his own father, quivering anxiously and praying he would not shame his family name.

Deciding that his worrying will only get worse if he waits, the bull-calf launches into a gangly canter. He concentrates on his father's words, spreads his wings, and resolutely doesn't look down. He keeps his eyes trained forwards, and suddenly his hooves aren't on sand anymore, they're on air, and this flight feels far steadier than his over-eager flutter into the ocean a few minutes ago. He tilts his feathered appendages, feels the breeze beneath them, and allows himself to be carried across the sand. His weight soon gets the better of him and he softly drifts to the ground, but it's far more elegant than his splashy dismount into the sea.

Euphoria grips him, and he bounces happily towards his father. "Arakh flew! What Ave think?" He looks adoringly upwards, waggling his bottlebrush of a tail eagerly.

ARAKH THE REAVER

[ ARAKH ]


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