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[OPEN] action plans

Aithniel the Inquisitor Posts: 169
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.0
Mare :: Tribrid :: 15.0hh :: 4 Years HP: 75 | Buff: NOVICE
Zerachiel :: Royal Griffin :: Molten Dagger tamme
#1
08-23-2016, 11:56 PM
AITHNIEL

So much confusion and doubt broiled within, a storm of emotions that rolled through her gut and made her feel as if she were floating at sea. Aithniel grimaced slightly and then schooled her features, the stern, rigid lines of her unyielding yet feminine frame not betraying the uncertainty within. Wings tucked against her side, and step by step with her cloven hooves, she wandered through the landscape of Helovia with her wings but an errant thought at her sides.

Ash tumbled from her body like apocalyptic rain, an effect of her relation to the Sun God, she supposed. She had never thought much of it, but now it appeared somewhat melancholy - like an abomination of the purity of snow. The leftover of flames. Remnants of cleansing fire.

As much as she wanted to sigh, Aithniel held in her emotion, swallowing it down and replacing it with her pride. The metallic glint of her silver eyes lashed in the darkness of the bright, moonlit night, and her black tipped ears turned at the sounds around her, trying to find comfort in the talking, chattering life of this Secret Grove. It was here she had met Volterra. Here where her first child was conceived.

Somehow she had to learn to let go of her mistakes so she could grow again, become more than this ever present cycle of failure. If only she could think of a way to be great again, to be something. Someone. The expectations of her bloodline were looming, and she was determined to rise to each one. But, every time she stretched her wings, she fell.

Aithniel stood at the lip of the large pond and glared at her reflection, willing the girl staring back to make a decision. "Practice your craft. Battle. Every loss is something to be learned," she finally said to herself, feeling a weight fall from her shoulders at this declaration. "Because a part of the herd. Help. Be well known so the Sun God can be proud."

That was the solution! Serve the Dragon's Throat instead of living as a resident.

There was something inspiring about this place...


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@Ravel

But burn down our home
I won't leave alive

Please tag me in everything!
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Ravel Posts: 15
Outcast
Mare :: Equine :: 16.3 :: III
Eshye
#2
08-24-2016, 05:00 PM
@Aithniel
She was restless.

Ever-long legs carried her swiftly now, through the woods of the Edge. She knew the pattern of the trees and could move with some decent speed, though every now and again there would be a root that would make her stumble. But all the weaving, the pacing, it was once new and exciting but now it had lost its excitement. She was thankful she felt she knew the woods so well, but now she longed for something different…

So she’d branched out, moved away from the Edge. She went where it was quiet, but kept by the cliffs, as she enjoyed the cool breeze that rose up from the surrounding sea. Here she found the Secret Grove, though she could argue that it didn’t much feel like a secret, as she could hear the soft murmurs of distant conversations when she picked her way through the Grove. But, then again, most everything in this strange world felt like a secret. It was all still so new to her, and she wondered if she’d ever fit in, if she’d even unveil all of its secrets for herself, if she’d ever want to.

She still waited with held breath for her brother. He had to uncover his own secrets, she reminded herself. Perhaps it was a good thing that he had not come to her yet. Perhaps he was still looking for their parents.

(Perhaps he was dead.)

The black mare quieted the thoughts in her head, tried her best to replace them with the conversations of her current neighbors. Long ears — because every bit of her is so, so very long — swivel, as if she were turning the dial on a radio in hopes of picking up a clear broadcast.

That was when she heard the words of a particular Guardian. The voice mentioned a god, and Ravel felt a newfound sense of excitement. Curiosity bubbled up inside of her and she picked her way gingerly towards the voice.

The narrow mare drew close, but stopped. Broken eyes, shining milky grey against the inky black of her coat, stare past (and perhaps beyond) the Guardian. Her voice was raspy but soft, but she hesitated. Then, simply, “Hello.”
★ harm her if it pleases you,
but death is not ready for her yet
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