SVETLANA
shadow kissed
moonlight dipped
oh so fine, oh so noble
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I am still finding myself surprised by the power I hold now. I am a leader. As it was, I traveled to the desert, a landscape with white fur blanketing brown down. Snow drifted softly, seemingly never-ceasing in my travels. Up here, the flurries on the ground gave way to white drifts and clouds fattened on snow, to delightful thermals that gave my aching batter self a rest. My wings are sore, stiffened with ice that had accumulated among the black edges, so instead of a gentle whisper in a down-stroke, they give an eerily loud crack. Delicate white beads upon the edges of my black feathers, making it even harder to fly, ice licking my mane and tail.
Raven wings thrust downwards, muscles throbbing red-hot. Onyx eyes turn, surveying the patchwork ground. Snow, snow, and yet more snow. It never ends. A massive tree grows by a blue disk of some sort- perhaps frozen water? Moaning softly, a wind catches me, keening sorrowful songs as it lifts me. I extend my wings for maximum effort, not wishing to have over-extend myself more than I had on my fast flight here.
It reminds me of my first time in battle. Honor-bound by the tedious ways of Svit... kona? Maybe... I had been asked to join a legion by the Ice-Fangs, a treacherous sky-land where the storms gusted and lightning cracked. It was on that frontier than I had joined one of the constant battles with the flow of enemies that constantly invaded.
"Ho! Who goes there?" I can almost hear my sub-ordinate yelling at me, his gray wings beating a furious tattoo, the ice lashing at his white-masked face. After I had done the customary greetings, I had hastily explained myself, before he threw me into the midst with a white-socked foot. Thunder roared so loudly around me that I could hear nothing, not even my heartbeat. Rain lashed me with miserable but hungry feelers, tendrils that soaked my wings and threw the legion into disarray. Enemies had done quick work of the sub-ordinate, but only with three pegasi snapping the delicate wing-bones, sending him plummeting downwards. I can remember the arduous task of collecting about thirty soldiers, rounding them up, re-adjusting our tasks, risking our laws of death by ignoring the commander. From there, we had accelerated into the clouds, into the very center of the storm, and rained down upon the enemy. The crunch of hooves against bone, the mighty pull on muscle as I heaved my body back up.
That day, when I alighted upon the ground surrounded by my fellow warriors, I had been a hero. That was the day they started called me 'Stormchaser'.
"blah blah blah."
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| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.3 :: 8 |
| Epona |
L E A N D E R
The foreign scent cut through the wind like a blade. He had only encountered the tag once before, on the idiot colt, Ricochet. His patrol of the skies above the Throat had been going quite well up until this point. Russet ears twisted back in preparation for violence. If that poor excuse for an equine was in his home, it would not be for much longer.
Umber wings stretched, their full breadth adding even more mass to the drafts already massive frame. His appendages rested on the air for a brief second before steadily plunging, sending him bulleting over the land. He was a flash of gold and brown, feathers and mane, almost blind though his eyes scoured the ground. Had he taken the time to wonder why he'd noticed the scent all the way up here in the atmosphere, he might have realized that an equine's smell would have a hard time floating so high. White lined pools caught the winged lady just in time to allow him to slow. Had he not seen the ivory mare then, he would have likely run right into her. He came to glide to the front of the dame, ears raised into a less hostile position on his skull. "You've reached the Dragon's Throat, lady of the Foothills." He spoke, making aware the strangers location. Hot air curled from his nares in great puffs, his breathing recovering from the sky dive he had almost enacted. "I apologize for my.. eh, rush. The last one I met of your herd was less than kind." Golden eyes flashed with surety, locking into the void black sights of the doe. He didn't expect the entirety of the Foothill's to act as foolhardy as Ricochet, but the meeting had left him with very poor ideas of the neighboring group. "I do hope you are not as foolish as your brethren I encountered." This time his chords held more warmth, quite sure that he would not be nearly as displeased with the pretty damsel's company. She was a beautiful thing, swathed in silver and black, elegantly formed. With any luck, the lady would have more sensibility about her than her herd-mate.
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SVETLANA
shadow kissed
moonlight dipped
oh so fine, oh so noble
|
A blur shoots out of the sky, gold-brown-tan. Sparkling eyes catch to me, and he is indeed handsome. But I am no flirt, nor do I fall for looks- actions speak stronger than appearances or looks, a lesson I learned as I was a Lieutenant in my old homeland. I crumple my left wing, flick out with my right, slipping away, before I expand my left again, catching myself. It's a very swift, decisive move, one of the many moves I've experienced and even taught as a soldier. Of course, once I moved up to higher levels I learned more of strategy as well, rather than following orders. The stately draft's umber wings beat, and he apologizes for his rough approach. A deep, but light-hearted laugh leaves my chest.
"It is better to be over-cautious than let the enemy overrun your home before taking action. I should hope my herd is not so foolish as you speak." I frown slightly. I do not doubt Paladin's rule, but still, my expectations are high. None of the herd should be making fools of themselves. Hush now, Svetlana. You have only just taken mantle of the herd. Do not proceed your ruling by becoming over-strong. Besides, there are two other horses as well. "I'm Svetlana. I'm one of the new herd leaders. I was hoping to meet some of the other herds' members."
"blah blah blah."
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| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.3 :: 8 |
| Epona |
L E A N D E R
In a small moment, he'd caught the mare's swift move. She was certainly no novice flyer. The strategic move held all the experience of a seasoned warrior. Though lady soldiers were around, they seemed much less common. So it was with a growing hint of surprise in his bright visage that Leander regarded the ashen dame.
"I agree. And I have only met the one other of your herd; Ricochet. He was quite rude, but herds cannot usually be judged completely by one member." He spoke, not adding that herds should also try to instill some respect in their citizens. Traces of fire still burned in his chest at the thought of the other insolent Foothill's boy, and adrenaline still ebbed through his veins. Having a stranger in your home without warning was nerve-wracking, no matter how pretty or nice they appeared. Steady wings tensed in gentle motions, keeping the brawny gold stag floating beside the femme. Trying to stay still in the air was no easy feat, much more difficult than flying about, and soon they would have to go to the ground.
Brilliant pools flicked back to the belle as she went on, expressing her title. He had no idea the stranger was a Queen, with his lack of knowledge for the Foothills, though she made clear that she was not the only leader. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Svetlana. I know little of your herd, and I would be glad to learn more. It will be much easier to converse on solid ground, though." He gave the matriarch a wink before streaming down towards the snow covered sands, long cream tail waving behind him. He had been planning on visiting the Foothills after his troubled meeting with Ricochet, and he was glad to have one of their leaders at his ear.
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SVETLANA
shadow kissed
moonlight dipped
oh so fine, oh so noble
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The stallion is not only handsome, but he was an eloquent speaker. Interestingly enough, he speaks bitterly of Ricochet, before asking to land, as well as holding back his name. I don't mind- my wings could use a break. The burning muscle gives a weak protest as I bring the muscle of my wing downwards, angling towards the ground. A novice might have overdone the angle and ended in a swift dive, but in battle such a amateur's move could leave you dead, or wing-less, a demise far worse than death. I was only about three hundred feet above the ground, so the relaxed descent hovered around ten smooth minutes of gliding. As I near the ground, raven wings cup, a gentle downstroke forward brings me to my hind legs, and I land gracefully, falling to my forefeet in a practiced move. The snow's not too deep, about knee-height, but it's cold and swiftly cools me.
"Ricochet's new herd leader, as well as Evers. How did you met him?" I asked, mildly curious. But mostly, it allows me to speak to the stallion, instead of an awkward pause.
"blah blah blah."
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| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.3 :: 8 |
| Epona |
L E A N D E R
The cloudy mare rested in the air silently as he spoke to her, and it was only the sound of rustling feathers that told him she was descending to the ground along with him. After landing in a cold cloud of stirred snow, the palomino shook his scarred pelt, doing little to rid it of the plentiful snowflakes. Caramel optics moved quickly back to the lady, unwilling to give up sight of her. Not when she was still a stranger in his home. No matter if she was a neighbor Queen, the soldier was not naive enough to place his trust too fully in anyone he'd just met.
The dame's next words had the irritation rising back to the surface. He did well to mask it for the most part, but sooty ears had clearly swiveled in disapproval above a hardened gaze. Who in their right mind would put such a young, reckless colt into a position of power? "When I met your Ricochet, he only called himself a soldier. I wish I could say I was pleased to hear of his new title, but I am not. Though you seem much more capable of such a position, Svetlana." Grim tones rang out, lighter as he complimented her, but not hiding his feelings for her counterpart. "I met Ricochet in the Threshold, as I was speaking to a newcomer. He rudely interrupted our conversation, and spoke poorly of the Throat. I do hope that is not how the rest of your herd speaks. It would be foolish for our herds to be at odds when we only just fought alongside each-other as allies." Ardent words left his maw, his expression full of seriousness. It was critical to know where the Foothill's other leaders stood, now that he was sure of Ricochet's precarious stance. Suddenly, he remembered his usual manners. The short episode of rage that had overcome him earlier must have put his usual courteous nature at bay. "Pardon me, I seem to have forgotten myself. I am Leander, skilled soldier of the Throat. Kri the Resolute is the leader here."
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SVETLANA
shadow kissed
moonlight dipped
oh so fine, oh so noble
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Ricochet? As blunt and even bitter as he may seem, I cannot imagine him outright arguing with any being, whether winged or horned. Maybe I have not judged him as well as I thought. I let the snow drifted on to my back. I am lucky enough that my wings shed water well, more than excellent really. My father had told me I was lucky enough to be able to fly in storms, where the worst battles and most chances for glory and honor occurred, because I had 'wings like a raven but shed water better than a duck'. Hooves shift, black eyes close. A low hum enters my throat, hardly in hearing range as I recall the old song. "We go marching. March, march, hrufulur, hrufulur. March, march, hrufulur, hrufulur. We go marching, kilan, kilan. Brethren, brethren, kilan, kilan, hrufulur, hrufulur." Of course, the words are not spoken outloud, but my mind is remembering. The ready smile for war, as our finest armorers suited me in silver and adorned me in bronze, fixed leather to my wings and flexible metal that somehow molded to my joints. I can remember the scent of blood and gore, the screams of dying horses, as my legion had attacked the left flank of the army ruthlessly, cutting down horses left and right, taking those left as slaves. How? Our soldiers there wore intriguing armor- even the poorest afforded leg-claws and wing-talons.
"Svetlana, they are overrunning us!" Talos' shrieks still echoed in my mind. I wondered what happened to him. Despite our strength of attacks, a number of reinforcements from the north and smashed into our triumphant-and-mind-numbed troops, shattering us. Many had died before the bloodlust could be roused in them again. I can still see the flurry of feathers, red-white-black-brown exploding into the air, the red seeping through the ground, the flashes of crimson and gold that gilded my vision. I was a war veteran. Even Ricochet, or this warrior, I doubted had been in as many battles as I had. Here, it was a matter of protecting the herd, of loving and caring and pride. In my home, it was more than survival- it was life. It was everything. It determined your status, honor, and survival. It determined your mate and your foal's life. It was everything.
Dammit. I had let my mind flew me away. What was he saying about me? Oh yes. That I seemed better suited for it. That was kindly. "Thank you, Leander, for your confidence. I'm afraid Ricochet's decided to take hold of who joins the herd. I hope he won't cause a problem again." The slightest of scowls breaks upon my face. "Such a thing would dishonor a horse where I've come from."
"blah blah blah."
[OOC: sorry i'm yammering on about her past so much! i just wanted to write about it because it seems really 'present' in my mind right now.]
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| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.3 :: 8 |
| Epona |
L E A N D E R
Leander's mind still brooded over the new Foothill's leader, the same boy that had lured that poor equine mare off with him. It took some strength on his own part not to teach the buckskin how strong the Throat really was. Kri may not have approved though, and now that the young stallion was a leader, it was even better that he hadn't. They already had the ex-Edge band's intentions to worry about. Despite all Kri's reassurance, he knew that their revenge would be directed to all that had opposed them, not just the Qian. Though the thought was painful, he knew that Faelene would likely face him in battle again some day
The draft let his cream tail flick around his sides as he though, eyes still on Svetlana, even when his thoughts were muddled. Honey pools continued to take in the sight of the black winged dame as she responded. "If I find him doing that again, I will be sure to let you know. I would not want the Throat and the Foothills to be at odds due to one rude tongue." A stoic look fell over his features before he continued. "Could you possibly mention the matter to him? Maybe he will have more respect for the other herds if he realizes that it is expected of any leader."
(ooc: It's okay! That's a good thing! :D Sorry for the shortness of this <3)
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SVETLANA
shadow kissed
moonlight dipped
oh so fine, oh so noble
|
Leander assures me if he is to find Ricochet expressing such bad behavior again he will certainly tell me. The warrior also asks for me to warn the stallion of his poor control over his tongue. Of course- typical kindness wrapped up with a warning. However, I take it with good nature. I would be the same as this golden warrior if the positions were switched. "No, it wouldn't do to have the herds at war. I will ask for him to keep such comments to himself. Certainly, I hope he knows better." I fall silent, wondering. It was a foolish part. Even I, still new to the Foothills, was well-aware of the ex-Edge and the discontent sure to be stirring. As well as this, I had heard rumours of dissent throughout the land. A faint feeling of unease welled in me. This was land's current peace was pulled taunt, and it was still stretching. Too soon, I'm sure it would snap.
"Leander, this is rather out-of-the-blue, but what do you think of the herds right now? I feel, despite my newness to my role and to the Foothills, there is dissent stirring in Helovia. I cannot believe the ex-Edge will simply melt away, and I've heard tell of bands of horses gathering. But very, very quiet murmurings- hardly a whisper. Hardly a word." I let out a puff, slightly annoyed with my ramblings.
"blah blah blah."
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| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.3 :: 8 |
| Epona |
L E A N D E R
A quiet nod tossed cream locks as Svetlana accepted his request. The mare seemed rather short with words, for the majority of the conversation, and the gold charger wondered what it was that kept her tongue. Still, her words were much more prudent and eloquent than Ricochet's had been, and it put his mind at ease for the time being. He had no qualms about teaching the buckskin a lesson, but putting his herd at odds with their neighbor was another matter entirely. He could hope not to find the colt in the Theshold again, but Svetlana's information had shown it to be in vain.
Suddenly, the ebonite winged lady spoke again, adressing him with a rather full question. It was one which had been on his own mind ever since the Edge battle, and lingered despite Kri's reassurance. With a wrinkled, concerned brow, the gilded charger looked to the lady. "I think you are very wise to worry about that, my lady. I will tell you all that I know and what I suspect. I have told my own leader the same, and I plan to speak with the Qian about this as well." White lined eyes narrowed, staring off into the snow covered sands of his home. "Mauja and his band have taken refuge to the North lands. I fought against them in the battle of the Edge, and it seems as though most of his old herd left with him after their defeat. They are recruiting members, even without a herd-land of their own. And I feel that they are planning retaliation against all of us who opposed them, especially the Qian. I do not think that the Throat or the Foothill's nor their citizens are safe. We should expect retalliation. Whether it should come now or a year from now, only time will tell."
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SVETLANA
shadow kissed
moonlight dipped
oh so fine, oh so noble
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I cock one dark hoof, content to relax. My head lifts, onyx eyes finding Leander's. I wish I had warriors like him at my side. In Svikruch, he would be considered one of the best, even out of all the honorable pegasi there. He speaks to me, a sliver of worry apparent in his voice. I do wish he was in my herd, more with every passing word. How can I not? Such a soldier is valuable. He reminds me of myself, except more talkative. I am not talkative. I comment and I value and I reason, but unless I feel the need to contribute, why waste words? Simply, most matters are trivial. "Leander, you are always welcome in the Foothills. I wish I had warriors like you." I let a smile come onto my lips, before it slips away. "I rashly want to believe the ex-Edge are finished, and yet I fear I agree with you. You are wise to worry. Only a fool would think we are done with them." I pause, letting him reply if he wishes. Then, I continue on with a few words. "Perhaps on a later date, we could begin a small aerial training group? In my lands, aerial combat is common, although here I think it is less. Just experience wise, to exchange methods and that sort of thing." I do hope I'm not too upfront, but I feel all herds could benefit from such a group.
I take another dip into the past. The white lines of the dunes slur into the snow-covered tundras of Svikruch. I can hear my commander speaking to me, teaching me, when I was nought but a young filly testing out my wings. "Flap! Height is always the advantage!" My old self rises unsteadily. "Faster! If a horse attacks you from the ground without any nearby drop-offs, a slow take-off could cripple or kill you!" In a time lapse, the memories blur, until the very air thrums with my dark appendages as I take off, quicker than a bird.
And then, I'm standing in the snow-covered desert with Leander.
"blah blah blah."
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| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.3 :: 8 |
| Epona |
10-30-2012, 01:24 PM
(This post was last modified: 10-30-2012, 01:24 PM by Leander.)
L E A N D E R
The grey lady's black gaze looked him in the eye. How could such a noble, well-spoken mare lead alongside that fool Ricochet? He wondered how all the new Foothill's leaders would get along in the coming months. Their cooperation would be vital, for the Foothill's and the Edge would likely be the first targets for ex-Edge revenge, at least so the gilded brute suspected. They were the most easily accessible places from Mauja and his groups new home in the North, if that was where they really were. A militant group traveling from the North wilds to the Throat would be much more easily spotted, especially from the sky.
A smile replaces the look of concern on his features at the Queen's kind words, though worry still laces his eyes. "I doubt your Ricochet would be so hospitable. But I thank you, Svetlana. I may take you up on that offer very soon, especially if my suspicions of the ex-Edge's retaliation come to fruition." A warm chuckle then left his throat, as he idly mused over what Kri would do if she knew of the other leader's words. Kri was not one to lavish anyone with praise, but he felt that she appreciated him well enough, even though he gained no high rank. Surely you have some good warriors in the Foothills already, my lady? At least, I certainly hope you do. If Mauja and his group truly are in the North, then your herd may be one of their first targets, along with the World's Edge." He stared more seriously back at her, curious as to the bulk of the neighbor's military. If they were small in number or ill prepared, they could well fall to an ambush. Cream locks danced as he nodded to her request. "I am no general here, Svetlana. But I will gladly offer my own skills and participate in a training group with your soldiers. I will also speak to my generals and see if they would be willing to round up some of the other Throat warriors train with yours as well. I feel it would be wise to do multiple, small sessions; it would be foolish to draw too many of our soldiers from either herd-land when attack is possible." The word general rolls a bit harshly from his tongue, though power was never something he desperately wanted, he often questioned the abilities of his own generals in his mind. Sometimes it felt as though he took most of the patrols, though with his independent and organized nature, it was no surprise.
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SVETLANA
shadow kissed
moonlight dipped
oh so fine, oh so noble
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So he does not think highly of Ricochet, that is very clear. I know little of that young horse- but the more I hear, the more I wonder. Evers seems much more likeable to me, at least right off the bat. "I do not doubt the warriors we have, yet our numbers are small." My voice, although sharp enough to clearly warn off him from that area, remains friendly and open. I know Paladin was an ally with Kri, but even inter-herd actions should always remain cautious. You never know when a small accident may happen and we go toppling off into war. As well as it is to remain allies, there is always the odd chance. Wisely, he agrees to my ideas of a training group, although Leander immediately voices concern from drawing too many away from our herds, leaving us open to ambush.
"Leander, I would welcome any of your number, and generals as well. It is beneficial to all." To tell the truth, I am greatly surprised he is not of high ranking already. "Of course. I would only expect few numbers, as well as evenly intervalled although unpredictable sessions. There is no reason to excessively tire our warriors, nor is their any reason to let those who may be enemies know when our numbers deplete." It is a small way to help throw off any danger, but it works. I have seen it used many times.
Coming back to the earlier point, despite sharing battle tactics, I will make sure to keep my best to my herd only. Despite my good wishes, you never know.
"blah blah blah."
[looks at my short post sadly]
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| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.3 :: 8 |
| Epona |
L E A N D E R
It seemed no matter his genuine nature, words could be misconstrued between herds. The Queen replied to him with more of an edge to her feminine voice, and Leander realized that she must have taken his question in the wrong sense. "Forgive me, Svetlana. I do not mean to pry. I only ask of your military in case you should need extra forces, as I would be willing to fight with you if the ex-Edge attack the Foothill's. If you would desire such aid, I can speak to Kri about sending soldiers to your borders if the time comes. It may also be wise to pick a messenger or two, they would need to be the fastest, to alert us of an attack." He reassured her, no hint of alterior motives in his steady tones. Svetlana seemed to be apprehensive of his ideas, and wrongly so, as he was not the conquering type. The only plotting he'd do would be to keep his own herd safe, and maybe to keep his love for Faelene unknown.
Another nod of agreement shakes his crown at her words, their tactics conferred upon. Training was certainly a benefit to either group, more so now than ever. Images of battle lingered at the edges of his mind, giving way mainly to thoughts of Faelene once more bloodied and falling to the ground. His chest tightened at the worries and for a brief moment, a wince passed his visage. Somehow, he hoped he would be able to convince the dark mare to leave Mauja's side once and for all. If he couldn't, she would never truly be safe. Not following that blinded tyrant. "If it suits you, I would be glad to visit the Foothills with whatever soldiers agree to come along for a training session within the near future. It may be best to practice on your lands for the most part, as Mauja and his band likely reside much closer to you and yours."
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SVETLANA
shadow kissed
moonlight dipped
oh so fine, oh so noble
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I shift my weight, relaxing my stance from my tense position. I bob my head, acknowledging his apologies and his offers, but I do not speak. For one thing, until he speaks to Kri, his words are useless, no matter how much I value them or he holds them to his heart, unfortunately. Leander wishes to fight more on the Foothills land, which I understand. "I would like to immediately agree to all your words, for I find pleasure in knowing in my allies. Unfortunately, I am afraid I should be unable to allow any training groups into our herdlands until I at the least speak to Evers, the herd's warlord, although I am sure he will agree." I flash back to Ricochet's harsh words as I had apparently overstepped my duties. Maybe Leander had a better grip on Ricochet than I. Black voids meet white. "I truly am sorry for this inconvience, and I will send a messenger along, if not myself, as soon as possible. I'm sure Evers will agree, but me and Ricochet had an, ah, disagreement about me overstepping my duties and I do not wish to upset the Triumvirate." I shake out my wings slightly, dislodging the snow and accumulated ice. If I am to make it back without my wings frosting over, I need to fly low and swift.
"I better be off. This was just an extended trip, I'm afraid, and I will soon be needed back at home, I'm sure, especially in these delicate times." I give him an apologetic smile, and spread my wings. I take several steps back, and fully extend them. With rapid, powerful strokes, I make it into the air in record time, so fast even Breaklin the Great would admire my speed. I ascend one hundred, two hundred feet, and make haste, using the airflows with a practiced wing and catching the warm thermals, which help to prevent icing. I glance back, but I cannot tell if Leander remains.
I soon pass out of the territory.
""
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