ooc; I apologize, for I have no template or picture or anything fancy; only my words aid me here. Please excuse that, as I am new, and haven't really gotten around to trying to get any of that. In my experience, quality of writing counts much more than the beauty of the overall post.
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Gleaming white wings spread out from the tall, willowy bodice of the filly. For a yearling, she was large- that is, she was standing at fourteen hands, but it was not a large feat, considering the size of her missing parents. She could still remember the massiveness of her mother, who had left her in this place six months ago. The filly closed her eyes in pain at the memory of the beautiful white mare, so healthy and strong... and then suddenly gone. The filly knew her mother and father were dead. She had seen the spots of blood on the ground. Despite her growing up on her own so far, she was not an idiot. Piecing the evidence together hadn't been hard. Something had killed her parents; question was, What did it? And how? Shaking herself, white mane tossing high like waves in the sea, she stretched her wings and whinnied softly.
Folding them up again, the filly pranced toward a patch of grass, and began to graze. She'd only ever attempted to fly once, and had nearly died. Nowadays, she simply stretched her massive wings whenever she had need to. Tilting her cranium to the right, she cocked her left listener and rolled her left lantern around to stare from the side. Something told her she was not alone... and another thing told her that being watched, being followed, was not safe. Turning herself around to face whatever the threat may be, she forced herself to stand tall and strong. Her wind-chime voice rang out high and sweet in a defiant challenge. "Who's there?" She chased the fear from her soprano tones, standing in a braced position; forwards slightly apart, hinds tensed and ready. If needed, she could whip around and deliver a strong kick to her attacker-- if, indeed, there was one-- and then run hard to get away.
Thoughts raced across her mind. Was this the creature who had murdered her parents? If they were dead, that is. She didn't know for sure, but she had a feeling they were. She wondered who or what this thing was that she couldn't see, but that she knew was there. Her forward right hoof stamped into the ground, a nervous shudder ran the course of her bodice. She forced herself to calm down; perhaps this thing was nice? A scent wreathed around her, and she knew it was a horse-- but what kind? Normal, unicorn, or a Pegasus like herself? She couldn't tell that just by scent... She listened hard for both the rustling of wings and the sound of the newcomer's voice. If it was a unicorn, there would be no way to know until it stepped into view.
| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.3 :: 8 |
| Epona |
10-23-2012, 05:33 PM
(This post was last modified: 10-23-2012, 05:34 PM by Leander.)
L E A N D E R
The great gold stag sauntered through the wood; his second home of late, it seemed. He was always drawn back to the Threshold's serene forest, no matter the time of year. Often he found newcomers who needed a haven, many of which had become respected members of the Throat. His loyalty to Kri and the rest of the herd was strong, resilient beyond any attempts at weakening. Even when other herd recruiters spread lies or wove elaborate tales for the newcomers, he kept his sense of justice about him. Someone had to give the new Helovians some truth.
A light feminine scent hung in the frosty air. Raising his sooty nares to the breeze, Leander inhaled. Through the maze of barren trees, he spotted the filly; a lovely, winged, ivory vision in the snow. She was petite in his eyes, though she was in good stature for her age. Gilded eyes gleamed warmly as he approached the girl slowly. He didn't want to frighten the pretty foal with his formidable height and brawny exterior. Fortunately, she had a sharp mind, for the white youngling spun around to face him. A hearty laugh left his maw, eventually settling into a warm smile. The girl looked more courageous than any other foal he could remember seeing. Idly, he wondered if that's what he might have looked like in his troubled youth. "I'm sorry if I startled you, miss." Deep tones left his throat, followed by a polite dip of his noble crown with emphasis for the filly's bravery. "I am Leander, a warrior of the Dragon's Throat herd. Are you knew to Helovia, m'lady?"
[ooc: Welcome to Helovia, Bree! :D You're writing is lovely!]
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ooc; Thank you! :) Yours is far better, however. I find my writing has become somewhat lacking, lately. My muse has died.
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The pretty filly relaxed her stance slightly; so slightly that it would be hard to notice. "I am Nefertari, and you could say that, I suppose..." She shook herself, tossing her mane. "if you consider being alone here for half your life 'new'." She offered him a slight smile, but it was pained. "My mother and father have been missing for six months. I don't know where they are... Though I fear they are dead." Her blue eyes held agony at the thought very briefly, and then she blinked and looked away from the stallion-- or rather, she seemed to. However, she was taking in everything she could around her, making sure he was alone.
She stretched her wings again, wincing as a couple of joints popped. Then she let them fall gracefully to the ground, flowing down until they curled slightly to rest on the hard surface of the frozen earth beneath her. Waiting for his response, her eyes continued to flicker around, finding out all she could. He was tall, broad, much larger than herself. Her slim frame shuddered as snow fell lightly on her, but it soon melted. The cold was no match for the intense heat radiating off of her. She knew from experience that if a horse got close enough, they could feel it-- some of them had been two feet away, and still felt the heat.
Her beautiful soprano voice sang out again, like quiet bells ringing. It was a beautiful sound, her voice, but sadly it was not often used. This time, though, her tones carried no words, only a short peal of melody. Then it ended, and she moved her flickering eyes back to meet those of the stallion.
Lace the Silverthorn Posts: 459
| Deceased atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 5.5 |
| Stallion :: Equine :: 15.3 hh :: 14 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE |
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Fajira :: Plain White Dragon :: Fire Breath
Chan |
10-23-2012, 06:09 PM
(This post was last modified: 10-23-2012, 06:11 PM by Lace.)
Old habits die hard. Even more so when it is a habit so ingrained into your bones that not practicing it make you feel physically ill, restless to the point where the same old scenery turn the mood sour and the air stale. Walking, for example. Lace had spent most of his eight years of living on the roads, heading from one place to the next. From time to time he would stop, mingle with a herd, join up with a band of mercs and enjoy the company of others for a while. Then he would leave, sparing no thought to the ones that remained behind him, with no obligations and no regrets.
Things were different now. For some reason, that seemed more and more vague and increasingly stupid, he had joined a herd with an unspoken intention of sticking around. No one was forcing him to stay at the Edge, not one living soul had placed any expectations only him - and yet still he felt pushed into a corner, as if he had no choice but to remain where he was and to do the best of the situation.
That's silly, you know the dragon criticized as they meandered through the snowy forest, slowly because of the treacherous footing and the aching leg that served as a reminder of the battle they had fought. Just because we have family and home now, doesn't mean you can't wander if you want. Qian have DragonHeart, no need for spider-lace-on-black to babysit the Edge.
"Of course, I know that" the grullo stallion replied out loud as he stepped over a snow-covered log, preferring to respond in his own voice rather than to communicate through the bond that connected their minds. Fajira would understand him anyway. "I never said it was rational, it's just this feeling of obligation I have. I still owe Mirage, and since I failed to help her much by aiding in the invasion I want to be there, just in case there's anything I can do for her - for them."
The little dragon snorted and dipped the tip of a white wing, veering around a cluster of young pines obstructing her path. She didn't give much for his sense of obligation and didn't hesitate to let him know that, whenever she got a chance. According to Fajira his debt hadn't been very great to begin with, and had become repaid the moment he joined the forces that invaded the borders of the Edge and eventually also drove the resident herd away. She had her own reasons for wishing to remain in the misty region, but they were far simpler. There were dragons there, other bonded with whom she could hunt and play and enjoy the brightness of the winter days, where frost turned the forest and cliffs into works of art.
With a flick of the tail Lace shook his head, knowing it didn't matter how many times he tried to explain his reasoning to the White. Either she couldn't understand or she didn't want to - it wasn't the first time they discussed the matter, and surely wouldn't be the last either. Matter of fact was, he wasn't going to leave anytime soon - winter had only just started and would keep him in place whether he liked it or not. Between the aching leg and the growing scarcity of food his hand was forced, and there would be plenty of time to think things over. Come spring however...
A short trill from the small, cat-sized dragon dragged the equine from his thoughts and made him focus on the surroundings. He came to a halt and turned the head to listen, ears twitching and turning until he picked up the sound of a voice, coming not too far away from his location. Curiosity coursed through him, arched the neck and forced the limp away from his movements as he changed direction and moved toward the owner of the voice. It had been feminine and somewhat frightened, thus turning on his protective instincts like a switch to a light bulb.
Only few moments passed before the slender stallion pressed through the shrubbery and emerged into the small clearing, where the snow appeared to be thinning out enough to allow faded grass to poke through the frosted coating. Honey-colored eyes scrutinized the surroundings before landing upon the winged beings, suspicion melting into something gentler once things like age and predicament was taking into consideration. So young she seemed, barely more than a foal still. He hadn't been the only one to react to her voice it seemed, judging by the presence of the black-winged pegasi. Lace wasn't entirely sure that it was a good idea to intrude... his companion wasn't quite as restrained though.
Her color is pretty Fajira commented, before swooping into the clearing with a silvery, birdlike trill sounding from her pearly maw in greeting.
You like everything that's white. Smiling, Lace followed at a slower pace, careful not to crowd the filly or scare her.
"Hello there" he said casually, hoping that none of the pegasi would take offense at his presence. "I heard someone calling out, is everything alright?"
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♦ Permission granted to use magic and violence on Lace and Fajira
♦ Only tag in new threads, spars and if it's urgent
The Store | The Warden
| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.3 :: 8 |
| Epona |
L E A N D E R
The palomino stood, ivory rimmed pools drifting over the pale filly's bodice. She was no newborn foal, but a quickly maturing femme. Still, one so young would normally have a parent in tow. Again, Leander found himself searching for a foal's parents, only to be met with a relatively empty wood. Not so long ago he had found an even younger filly, much smaller than the one before him now, that had been orphaned. He only had a split second to hope that this child was not in the same situation, but alas, it was in vain.
Another young one alone in the world. And in the midst of a terrible Frostfall, no less. His profile fell into a concerned frown as he watched emotion pass Nefertari's face. How did this little one survive so long without her dam or sire? It was miraculous, invoking a deep sense of respect for the resiliency of the pearly fawn. "I'm sorry for your loss, Nefertari. Your last few months here must have been very difficult." His chords had lost most of the happiness they held before, now only holding sympathy and warmth for her predicament. "You would be more than welcome in my herd, the Dragon's Throat, if you would like companionship and a place to call your own." Gently, the tawny stallion took a step closer to her, his own massive mahogany wings folded neatly against his back. He wondered why and how her parents had disappeared, especially in such a harsh time of year. He felt strongly for the foal; the innate fatherly streak in his nature rising. He had not sired any foals of his own yet, and with his heart set on the almost impossible love of Faelene, he wasn't sure he ever would. A weary, sorrowful sigh left his lips, just as the filly let out a harmonic chime of her own. It was a beautiful sound, and the stallion wondered how such a troubled child could still sing so perfectly.
Suddenly, a rustling of snow signaled the entrance of another. Leander raised his eyes to the sight of a silvery, gold marred brute alongside a small dragon. The stranger smelled of the Qian, and a short wave of relief washed through his chest. He did not have the patience to sit through another conversation with any rude members of the Foothills, that was for sure. "Greetings. Everything seems to be alright here, except for this little beauty's sad predicament." He shot an empathetic smile to the small maiden, before looking back at the grullo. "I am Leander, a warrior of the Throat. I believe I fought with your side against Mauja and his group not so long ago." He spoke to the equine male with careful friendliness, half-expecting this stallion to be as condescending as some of the other recruiters often were. Hopefully the Qian and it's members still held the Throat in high esteem, especially after they helped them gain a homeland. Scabbing wounds still lingered over his own golden pelt from the recent battle. With some pride, he remembered the moment he dove out of the sky, barreling right into the Unicorn tyrant himself.
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The femme watched the three, curious. "It was hard, yes. But obviously, I've survived." She gave him a grim smile. "Well..." She continued thoughtfully. "It'd be nice to learn to use these stupid things. Almost got me killed a couple of months back." She whinnied to Leander, lifting her wings to show what she meant. "And to have... Well, a family, I suppose." She turned to the newcomers and bowed gracefully, her wings sweeping down with her. Then, they folded up neatly against her sides, and she spoke in her bell-like tones. "I'm Nefertari." She straightened, swishing her tail and finding herself moving closer to Leander, whom she trusted already. Perhaps he would be willing to adopt her, if she joined the herd he was part of?
Her icy lanterns studied the two who had arrived, and again, another little peal of music fell from her lips, the way it always did when she was happy-- that is, as happy as she could ever be. Turning to Leander, she said, "If-- If I did join..." She looked at the ground and then mumbled, "Could you adopt me?" Her lanterns flashed to the dragon and stayed there, her cranium tilted curiously. "If- If I'm not being rude... What exactly are you?" She asked the fellow female, curiosity gleaming in her large blue orbs.
Amenhotep was wandering, trying to find his sister. Lo and behold-- there she was! With two stallions and a dragon. The little yearling was pearly white and beautiful, only about two hands shorter than himself. He stepped forward, seeing her next to a large tawny stallion with mahogany wings. His brilliant green eyes narrowed in a challenge as he stepped out and headed straight toward them. He stopped a few paces away, whole body trembling. He heard the quiet squeal of surprise. "Why-- You-- But you're--" His sister's face was full of shock and confusion. Amenhotep found himself smiling gently. "Do I remind you of your mother, Nefertari? That's because I'm your brother-- one year older, of course." Nefertari blinked at him, eyes wide and uncertain. He saw her look up at the tawny stallion, as if for permission or reassurance. "Neffy." He whispered, and her head snapped around to face him. "Mother said... Mother said I had a brother. Your name?" "Amenhotep." He nickered. "Then... Then you are my brother." She whispered, and his heart pounded with joy at finally having found his baby sister. He trotted forward and nuzzled her, and she pressed into him. "Oh, Leander, won't you take us both?" Her sweet tones rang out, aimed at the tawny stag.
| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.3 :: 8 |
| Epona |
L E A N D E R
Honey pools gleamed as the filly went on to respond. Though she was still quite young, her mind was sharp and her speech was strong. Whoever the little one's parents were, they must have done a fine job of raising her before they disappeared from her life. His gaze was brought to the healthy, white wings that sprouted from the foal's back. Ah, so there was at least one thing that she had not been shown. "Those things can actually be quite useful, once you get the hang of flying. My wings have saved my own life many a time. I could teach you how to use yours, if you like." He spoke, looking down at the young one with a playful grin. He wasn't fond of the way she talked about her own lovely wings, but if she hadn't learned to use them yet, then it was understandable.
The petite snowy form moved closer to him at the entrance of the equine stallion. He was surprised how quickly the innocent girl could trust him to her safety, even when she had only just got his name. There were many who could lie and manipulate, even he had that capability, but Leander's voice of honesty tended to ring genuine, no matter how suspicious the listener. Suddenly, his warm gaze fell back to the child as she began to stumble over words of joining the Throat. Ivory rimmed orbs widened as she asked for him to be her new guardian. For a moment, he hesitated, wondering how difficult it would be to be responsible for a foal. He had no experience as a father, though he knew that keeping her safe was something he could do. Before the sandy stag could answer, another young Pegasus came into their midst.
He was pure white, much taller than Nefertari, but obviously similar and clearly still young. The two foals began to converse, and soon, he realized why the two looked so close. Again, the little blue-eyed fawn spoke to him, another question hanging in the cold air. "You are both welcome in the Throat, Nefertari. And if it is really what you wish, I will take care of you both the best I can." The smile still lingered on his lips, though questions still fled his thoughts. With eyes directed at the silvery equine and his dragon, Leander went on. "It was good to see a Qian friend, stranger. Please give my best regards to your herd. And do keep your borders protected and your members wary, for I do not think we have seen the last of Mauja's group." His last words were pointed, not specific, but clear in their message of warning. The Qian had fought hard for their home, and they would likely have to fight even harder to keep it.
"We must be off now, children. The walk to the Throat is much longer on foot then by sky, especially in the snow. With that, the golden buck began the arduous walk home.
[Leander is out now ^^]
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[too lazy to post with the fancyness]
Neffy tottered off after her new father, smiling happily. Her brother trotted after her, and then Neffy looked back. "Bye-Bye!" She called, waving a wing at Lace and his dragon, smiling happily. "Maybe I'll see you again one day!" She sped up, tripping a little, to walk on with her father and brother. Poor thing was going to be surrounded by testosterone growing up-- it'd be a miracle if she didn't turn into a rather manly mare by the time she was four! She knew it, too. Giggling, she continued on, and then squealed when she ended up chest-deep in snow. She plowed through, working hard until she managed to get out; Amenhotep had followed her into the snow and was now helping to push her out.
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