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09-15-2016, 01:14 AM
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If his voice did not carry on the wind, then the plants took it up, the sounds vibrating into their roots and stretching down into the earth, gently pulling at the herd to come wherever it was they walked. He would not normally be so obtrusive, but the time to be idle had passed. It was not a shift he took lightly, the way a boulder thinks long and hard before it finally rocks off its perch and into some devastating movement. His decision was not so lengthy, and its outcome not so severe, but there was no doubt that he was a stone in motion this day. Gradually the hidden came from the woodwork. First to arrive was a young filly, and he knew her to be new. He proffered her a welcoming smile, curious how she may react to this gathering. Next came a curious little shadow, his small figure catching the god's jeweled, green eye before he vanished, due to return with a pale mare in tow. She bore flora in her hair and the Earth welcomed her with a nod and a twinkle in his gaze. "Pray tell, what is your favorite flower?" he asked of Agnodice conversationally. The next arrival drew the god's attention in a way the prior two hadn't. He was more intent upon her, as though whatever edges of his mind he left to tinker with the universe condensed into one true focus. His smile grew with her presence, a broad movement that wrinkled the corners of his eyes and set his beard to sway. He exhaled steadily, and the grasses hummed into fresh existence, unfolding like a living wave that radiated out from him and rushed to tumble over the moss that coddled her. Such was a father's love, whatever their past conversations. His name was like a stone dropped into a pond, its ripples lapping against his consciousness, tugging him away from the mountain to the stream. He blinked and turned, his verdant stare glinting across the formidable Dauntless before him. "Hail, Archibald," he greeted warmly, nodding to the czar of his domain. "All in good time, Dauntless, the herd like the trees, wakes and comes still." Though the God oft he Earth would never feel as if he could impose upon his own realm, he was mindful of those whom he blessed with authority over it, and the tricky situation his summons could place them in. It was for such a reason he and his siblings did not often descend, and why even less frequently they beckoned - it had a way of unsettling things. Sometimes stones needed to be turned though; the Dauntless' caution was well earned. Movement drew the Earth's attention elsewhere, proof of his words. His gaze washed green over Adria, whom stood quiet, but stoic. His lips pursed in a thoughtful line as he watched a mare that to him, appeared lost, as though a pearl that had washed from the sea and felt displaced upon the sand, but was unable to submerge back into the tide. He proffered her a wink, to set her at ease, before turning towards the sound of his name once more. "Darwin," he returns by way of greeting, his tone knowing, though not unkind by any means. He was glad to see the stallion present and buoyant with thoughts. If the God had thought Adria a misplaced token of the sea, then he was certain Aquila was a beached denizen, and her status was not so much lost as it was isolated. The barest hint of a frown faltered on his facade, but it was only out of concern for her well being. He hoped the herd could bolster her, even if he could not, but all the same he lent an evergreen pulse towards her, a friendly flower blossoming in her vicinity. He's drawn from her surliness as a younger voice calls to him, and his attention shifts with a renewed smile for the pale, newly grown stallion. Last to appear was another kin of the sea. He couldn't help but notice her similarly withdrawn presence, and he wondered faintly when so many of his water-bearers had receded into their own depths. He nodded welcomingly to her all the same, deciding that now enough of the herd had settled for him to speak, even if it was not all. Some would never come, no matter how strong the call. That was part of the problem, wasn't it? "Children of the Hidden Falls," he rumbled, his baritone deep and likely to resonate not just through ears but as a vibration among one's very being. "I welcome you, now, and always." His gaze seemed to hold shut longer than normal after he blinked, as though he were preparing himself, solidifying like the steel in the earth's many layers for what needed to be said. He did not enjoy the inevitable need to prune, but it did not mean he wouldn't, even if he lamented every withered vine and decayed leaf as he went. "The name ought not fool you," he began as his lids lifted over the vibrant emerald of his green stare, one that he swept across each of them. "You should not be hidden from each other... from yourselves. I beseech you, know your herd, for that word means more than just a group of horses. Shelter in these lands, but tend to them. Thrive amongst your brethren, but grow them. His nostrils flared as he exhaled steadily, his features hardening and his head lifting, his posture shifting from one of a kind father to a figure head. "To assist you in this endeavor-" he paused, his eyes locking upon Isopia, "rise, Mountain that Knows." His decision had been careful and well planned. Perhaps it seemed inevitable given her heritage, but Isopia hadn't earned her father's attention, but her god's. If he still had some misgivings about her instinct as a mother, he didn't let it taint the rest of her deeds. In this, he hoped, she might learn how to care and nurture something once more. "Brisa has delved too deep into stillness. Even trees move and grow, and I would have it be thus of this herd." There was no denying the quiet that befell this land, and though the god did not blame Archibald, neither could he praise him. He hoped with a strong pair, that something might finally bloom. |
