ashamin

lochan

&rakt

It was the song that first pulled him in. The melody was distant and strange, the voice that wove it was dark and tantalizing. Ashamin did not feel seduced in the proper sense, maybe, but his curiousity could not be contained. He had spent a lot of time in this meadow as of late, seeking out the best spots for his loyal company to graze and gather, and never before had he heard this song in his wanderings.

A little wandering further, and he found its source. She dressed herself in a garb that suited the lilt of her tongue, in trinkets that, like his, reminded him of something ancient, dead, and filled with a magic of its own. But perhaps it was just the mare beneath the jewels that gave off this air, and perhaps she granted the jewels this property. At a certain point from where he stood in the distance she blurred together, becoming a distant patch of spotted stars, jewels, or maybe just a disturbance in his usual sight. Ashamin knew that he could see her clearly, and even if his companions hadn't honed his nocturnal ways they could have lent the Clovenheart a good description, but somehow she still seemed obscured.

It was not that his companions urged Ashamin to stay back, or to avoid the sight. Lochan was too burdened by the same curiousity, and Rakt was too eager for the possibility of any sort of fight. But both Cerndyr approached with far more caution than their bonded, and so when Ashamin moved forward recklessly to greet the moonsinger, they almost called out for him to stop.

Almost, and yet...

The Clovenheart moved forth unhindered, cutting through the tall dry grasses with a confident stride. The sort of dizzy apparition that was this mare faded into something more concrete with every step, and so too did his heart race at the anticipation of hearing the singer speak, if she even could.

"Your song is lovely," Ashamin called, though he knew even as he spoke that lovely was not the right word. Haunting, maybe. Dangerous, even, but not lovely. The Clovenheart tilted his head as he watched he seek out food, and as he did so the necklace he wore clattered as its many charms struck each other. Behind him, his two companions froze as if in headlights. "I am Ashamin the Clovenheart, of the Unbound. I know of a better place to graze, if you would like. I spend much of my time in this meadow."





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