the Rift

[DROP] it's harvest time!! [Common SS]

Random Event Posts: 1,286
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
Everyone always goes on about how lots of things happen during Birdsong and Tallsun. The birds and the bees are doing their thing, plants are blooming, the weather goes crazy - there’s just a whole lot crammed into those two seasons. Which like, good for them and all that. But Orangemoon is a pretty crazy time too. It has this reputation for being the beginning of the slowdown period, what with the temperatures cooling off and all, but let me tell you - Orangemoon is when the procrastinators start getting their shit together.

We all know Tallsun was one hairy beast this year - this peaceful little thicket wasn’t immune to the effects of wildfire and heat. Some of the trees are a little scorched around their base but luckily the thicket didn’t actually lose any of them to the flames. The drought that followed was, well, a little bit tricker - some of the trees started dropping their leaves early just from the stress! A rather sore sight, to be sure.

It was both a blessing and a curse when Orangemoon rolled around. On the bright side - cooler temperatures and a bit of rain helped sooth the plants and the animals that lived in the thicket returned to their homes. On the down side, Frostfall was approaching and there was a lot of preparation that needed to be done. Hibernation fat needed to be put on and stores needed to be made for those that wouldn’t just snooze on through the cold weather. Brothers were turning on brothers, neighbours were fighting over every little acorn and pine cone. It was chaos!!

So one morning, a  crisp and typical Orangemoon morning, the trees decided to do something about it. That’s right the trees. They couldn’t do much as individuals but they pooled their resources together and breathed life into one of their number - a mighty blue spruce that grew in the centre of this particular thicket.

With a load groan it woke into consciousness, shifting its roots and causing the earth to tremble all around. Several old knots blended together to form a face - not a particularly kind looking face but come on, it had just woken up.

It was time to help their little furry friends.

First, they needed to lure some of the larger furry creatures over. Trees gossip, you know, and they knew that nothing quite drew a crowd of Helovians like an egg. So they found one, a smooth little egg that the blue spruce cradled in a crook at it’s base - nestled snug in a bed of needles.

Why not just go up and grab it? Well, if you’ve ever touched blue spruce needles before you’ll know damn well why not right off the bat. For those of you that haven’t - each needle is a prickly little SOB and that made the drooping canopy at the base of the spruce a tidy little shelter for the little egg. Branches were arranged just so it was visible but clear that this wasn’t going to be a snatch-and-grab situation.

The trees needed a favour first!


This is a Common Species Specific companion drop!
Please state what your character is seeking and any prior refusals they may have.
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Mathèo Posts: 65
Dragon's Throat Colt
Stallion :: Tribrid :: 17.2 :: 3 seasons
Delphi :: Common Rougarou :: Flame Odd

"Do trees normally do that?"

Mathèo, who not so long ago had hatched from an egg himself, wasn't sure. And so his question was directed towards the tree, as he assumed it could (and would) answer him. There weren't trees like that in the Dragon's Throat - perhaps it was only the prickly looking ones which could talk? But if that was the case ... could the cacti at home talk as well?

Thoughtfully pondering this, young Thèoe realized he'd never even tried before. Had he been walking rudely past the flora and fauna of his home, without so much as a hello?

Oh the world was such a large place ...

A pillar of sunlight fell on the boy regardless of where he stood, as if a celestial spotlight was constantly fixed upon him. His young wings were folded against his sides, and his golden horns were pointed directly upwards, tilting every now and then with the curious rotations of his youthful skull. Bright verdant eyes scanned the tree, constantly returning to the face, rather than the egg. Thèo, having hatched from an egg, could only assume that there was a horse inside, as thus far in his short life he'd soon nothing else hatch, for BirdSong was already gone by the time he was born.

The boy curled his thickly-braided tail around him,  bright eyes staring up at the tree, as he patiently awaited a response. How long would it take for the tree to reply? Given how infrequently they seemed to move, maybe it was the case that they were just very, very slow? And if so, he would wait. It would be rude to ask a question and then simply rush off without first hearing the answer.

And he didn't have anywhere to be, anyways.

omg you're hilarious.

Theo would like a Rougarou! No prior refusals or rolls.

Oh Lady, running down to the riptide
Taken away to the dark side, I wanna be your left hand man
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Virga Posts: 42
Absent Abyss
Colt :: Tribrid :: Growing :: yearling

Things are getting weird again.

Now — the forest itself is weird. You've seen enough of Helovia to know most trees are turning the color of flame and abandoning their leaves, but the ones here cling stubbornly to their green needles. You wonder why as you explore the shadows under them, but it isn't a pressing question. Anyway, soon enough you have a lot of others.

A lot.

You happen upon a clearing not so different from other clearings, except there's someone in it already, and your ears come up half in curiosity and half in wariness. He's.... well, beautiful is one way to put it, right? It's the first word to mind, at least, and it echoes in your head like it's an antonym to you. You stand at a breach in the trees, covered still in shadow and wearing midnight across your skin, and he's lit up like heaven itself just noticed him, standing there, and decided to point him out to every creature with eyes in the near vicinity.

Your immediate instinct is suspicion — of course it is. Slowly, you encroach on his light and his clearing (his by default considering he's the only one here). And it's only after you've crept up a bit, offering no greeting save to stare at his wings — and his horns — you notice the tree. It's.... significantly less inspiring, isn't it? It isn't the thing making your heart beat faster. You cock your head toward it anyway, because it's easier to look an ugly old pine in the face than it is to look at someone so young and ethereal. Stimulation runs a little too hot through your veins and though you want to speak, you can't quite untangle the words.

So you're quiet, so far. Quiet as you approach unannounced, your wings furling and flexing at your sides in a manner remarkably similar to the way a person might wring his hands. A part of you wants to run — you snuff it. You're too old now, too clever and brave, to be such a child about this. Why don't you say something? Why don't you do something, Virga?

Maybe you're just not ready yet.

silver horses chased down moonbeams in your dark eyes

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Seeking a rougarou. No prior refusals.

Gemini Posts: 10
Filly :: Pegasus :: 16.2 hh :: 3 months

The young filly still could not fly, for some reason she couldn't get her wings to work properly. So those large appendages just hung clutched by her sides, unusable. She had wandered away from that group which had taken her in. She wasn't used to being alone, without her parents, that was. So with long wings clutched at her sides, she had cantered into the Deep Woods, noting that the trees here seemed more pokey, and still green in the season where most trees were dropping their leaves. Curious about one of the trees, she stretched out her muzzle to gently try to lip one of the needles.

As soon as her muzzle touched the needles, however, she quickly recoiled. Those things hurt her poor muzzle. Bright eyes peered around, noting two other colts. One was one she had met previously, yet both colts held the scents of herds on them. And yet she held no herd scent on her. Hadn't since she was little bitty. Shaking it off, she slowly approached the two colts. Keen eyes caught the bright shade of blue, that of an egg. Her interest was piqued. She hadn't really ever seen eggs before, other than those of birds. She stretched her nose out, just a few centimeters away from the pokey branches to get a closer look. The blue roan filly was very curious. Slightly nervous, but curious none the less.

What was this egg thing all about? She wasn't sure, but it sure seemed like something interesting, that's for sure! She wanted to know what this was all about, and what the egg contained! Perhaps it was something interesting, something crazy and fun!

OOC: Gemini is seeking a Zephyr, with no prior refusals!

She walks. | "She talks." | She thinks.

Cowboy Posts: 22
Up For Adoption atk: 5.5 | def: 8.0 | dam: 6.0
Stallion :: Equine :: 16.2 :: 3 years HP: 62.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Never apologize and never explain -
it's a sign of weakness.
Red roan body shifted in and out of the ever thickening trees as dual eyes searched. he was looking for the black form of his brother. It had been seasons since they had seen each other and he wanted to give him an update,a s well as receive one. A bit had changed since their last meeting. He wasn't sure how Volterra would take his brother joining a herd, but he felt it was important enough to hunt him down. He figured this was as good a place as any to find him and explain why he had joined the Falls. He grimaced as he thought of all of the things his larger brother might have to say.

A very odd sight caught his attention and drew him up short. Three foals were standing in a thicket, all alone. His brows furrowed slightly as he started towards them. His deep drawl sounded warm and friendly, with a slight tint of worry, "Hey ya'll what are all of you guys doing here so far away from your mothers?" He looked at each of them in turn before looking around, checking for danger, including their mothers.

A small egg caught his attention then; nestled in limbs of an evergreen. "I'll be dam... darned. I guess that's why we're all here huh?" He chuckled softly and looked at the youngest among them. He was a handsome silver, with splattering of gold and white wings. He smiled and stepped to stand beside him. He wondered what they would have to do in order to be awarded the egg. His ears swiveled carefully trying to pick up any odd sounds.

OOC;;   Cowboy is seeking a dragon with shock breath P.S. this is hilarious lol
Words/Tags;; 276 speaks to everyone stands next to @Matheo

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Arakh Posts: 77
Dragon's Throat Stallion atk: 5 | def: 8 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 17'2hh :: 2 HP: 66.5 | Buff: NOVICE

He slips between the trees, his wings folded tightly to his sides and his head angled strangely so his rapidly-developing bull horns don't snag on any low branches. As proud as the colt is of his horns, they can prove a distinct inconvenience in small, cramped spaces, and the shadowy confines of the Deep Forest is one such place.

The calf breaks into a trot, dodging between the trees and wincing as leaves catch in the feathers of his tightly-furled wings. His ears prick forwards, detecting a distinct commotion up ahead; he alters his stride and turns towards it, whickering crossly as his tail snags on a thorn thicket. After a couple of seconds spent disentangling himself, he resumes his ploughing path forwards.

The first thing he notices is that there are a lot of children here. Some, like him, have both horns and wings - although, he observes with great pride, none sport his magnificent bull horns - and one has just wings (poor darling). There's also an adult stallion, who talks in an odd accent that makes the colt's ears spin curiously in his direction. Arakh wanders closer, his icy blue gaze following the eyelines of the others, towards....what appears to be a moving, sentient tree. The grullo boy thinks that is rather unusual, because to his knowledge, trees are more of a strong, silent type. Unless he's just been deaf to their little voices all this time?

There's something glimmering in the branches, though; something peeking tantalisingly through the pointy-looking tree needles. "What that?" he asks nobody in particular, squinting to try and get a better look at the egg.

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Seeking a griffin with Molten Dagger, no prior refusals


Macaria Posts: 57
Mare :: Unicorn :: 17 hh :: Three Years [Birdsong]

Macaria has lived with the occasional spur of guilt for stepping on a small, struggling baby seedling, or breaking the branch from an ancient willow while passing through – these things are normal to her. This, however, the grumbling and moving of a nearby conifer is certainly not a typical circumstance for her...

It's absolutely thrilling!

For a big thing, she's quite graceful in her descend down the small hill of hemlocks and toward the enchanted spruce; the egg twinkling like a star in it's blue grasp. She see's the boy and his gorgeously braided tail and pale fur, those elegant wings of his. And another lanky young one, much like she was a year or so ago, he bares the opposite shades while they all examine together. Macaria slithers her big steel-gray body through the green, letting the closeness of the brambles rake over her dappled fur as she takes her place on the other side of pale pegasus, their golden horns contrasting each other. His shine different, his long pair of golden bones atop his head seem less frosted than hers – as if they're not type of bone, but perhaps metallic. She doesn't linger on it much longer and instead lets her honey eyes drift from face to face, finding each one's details and defining features. She notes them all and studies them rather carefully.

Her gaze finds the littlest of them all, a brave little black pegasus with a snowy blaze down her face. As typical in children of her smallness, she seems bewildered and excited – a feeling Macaria remembers well from her early months. Now, at two, she's so clearly grown up – so very mature and complete [maniacal laughter from space].

Her eyes then move from the tempted child to the older face of a stallion – an equine she's seen in passing before, in the Falls. Her lips curl in an instinctual, familial grin, her nostrils fluttering with a shuddering inhale of cold autumnal air. A silent hello resonates within her but she doesn't saying anything aloud, instead she notices one more presence, he's also eyeballing the group with a pale stare of his own. That blueness is something she notices right away, a chilly stare. Somewhere deep down she shivers at the sight of those eyes of his. She doesn't both to follow the intricate lines of his big body and the lovely grayscale tones of his grullo coat, or his bone-white horns – she looks away in a hurry, ignoring his question and keeping her eyes forward, on the spectacle at hand.

That egg might have my travelling friend.
Oh, please please!


Your words in my memory
Are like music to me
(picture by smithers)


Griffin, Zapping Jab. No priors.

Bathsheba Posts: 45
Filly :: Hybrid :: 16.3 hh :: II years
It has only been an hour and I am already bored, disheartened might be the word that some would use, but in reality - there really was nothing to do. Here in a thick copse of pine trees there was little option for excitement other than to stand still and hope you do not stab yourself on the needles. My nose was still sore from my first venture and twinged at the memory. Mother promised not to be gone long this time, tail snapping in her swift departure, leaving me with a sense of discomfort and dread. With the relief of Orangemoon I was not nearly as burdened physically as I had been during Tallsun, making the trip at least a small percent easier. Still I was alone, and no matter how cool the breeze blew, it could not snip that niggling bud of desperation knotting in my stomach.

I walk, choosing yet again to wander rather than stay put as my Mother so aptly commanded of me. It was her way of keeping me safe, I hated it. So much so that I gave in to the incessant tugging against my breast, placing one hoof in front of the other until I had moved past that particular grove and into the next. I was a dead give-away in this place, my black and white flesh did next to nothing by way of camouflage, leaving me an open target. Yet I had no fear of being attacked here, I was too busy looking around, ducking under low-lying boughs and side-stepping roots. It was not until I looked up from the ground that I realized my wayward feet had actually led me somewhere.

There appeared to be a whole community gathering in this place, although a majority of those present were made of up foals. Most of them my age while the occasional adult stood out. All of them had directed their attention toward a tree, a tall tree whose skirts bustled out wide and low. Its needles gave me the impression of knives rather than stiff pines, goose-bumps burst out across my spine as I shivered. This tree was different than the rest, white blue tips made it stand out against the earthy green and orange that crowded against the outskirts. Voices were rising, asking questions, none of which I could pin-point to an individual source. I did not recognize any of the equines here, all of them strangers. All of them potentially dangerous. "What is it, what's happening?" I ask, tip-toeing cautiously up to a sandy brown stallion, the only one who might have had any form of authority over the situation.


ooc - speaking directly to @Cowboy
seeking a Dragon! With toxic breath. No previous rolls or refusals.
eat me up,
i'm dead inside.

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Aisling the Fae Posts: 112
Absent Abyss atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Equine :: 13.1 :: 6 :: Birdsong HP: 63 | Buff: NOVICE
Sorcha :: Common Green Dragon :: Fire Breath Laine
as we walk in fields of gold

Well, the little enchantress had lost the brute's trail again. Some Thief ye're turning out te be, Aisling! Can't even get your own dagger back, it's disgraceful. She chided herself continually in the days that followed her failed attempt on the stallion. Usually so quiet and sneaky, she had though with her new powers that regaining her property would be easy as breathing but the great hulking brute had eyes in the back of his head...four eyes in the form his dratted dragons. She hadn't known about them and so hadn't sheltered herself from their meddlesome eyes as the stalked the white-armed behemoth.

With a disgruntled huff, Aisling continued northward. The shifting colors were a balm though, and as she picked her way through the rustling wood on prim little grey hooves the sweeps of orange and yellow and red above her worked to brighten her outlook. She loved Orangemoon, though truthfully no more than she loved each and every season when it took turn on the earth. There was plenty to love of each of the four and Aisling greeted each as she would an old friend: with a smile and a song.

Her flute had been playing sweetly as she walked, working to improv her mood but it's song was cut short as the little mare came across a a gathering of children. Well, mostly children, but she spied one filly that was near grown as well as a stallion amongst them. Aisling nodded her approval at the stallion's correction of his speech (no need for children to get any ideas about foul language) and then approached to see what all the fuss was about. "Ah, a new egg then..." she mused, trying to ignore the excited little flare in her stomach at the sight of the it nestled in the spruce's roots. The possibility of having a companion had hovered at the edges of her imagination since she had lase come across an egg, but it seemed that these events drew crowds and she didn't want to let herself hope too far. "So my dears," she addressed the children, "What should be done about an egg all by it's lonesome?"

Seeking a Dragon with Fire Breath
First Refusal
[now come the days of the dreamer and they are filled with wonder and light ]
:: permission given for use of magic and force :: please tag Aisling in all posts ::

Sabre Posts: 21
Mare :: Equine :: 16.1 :: 3 years
Cutlass :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath Reli
It is the groaning that catches my attention—a sighing, almost woeful sound (easily heard despite its rasping nature, given how heavy the silence is in these deep, dark woods). A familiar shiver chills the length of my spine, and I smile. If I should truly call any place home in the world, it would likely be this ghostly forest. Beneath the thick, concentrated boughs and the murky shadows is where I had been born, and it is where I am comfortable. Memories of the eerie paths are stitched into every memory, every muscle, and every bone.

Thus it isn’t surprising that this ominous forest is one of the places I had gravitated to first, when returning to Helovia. If I should find brother anywhere, shouldn’t it be here? Here is where we had cemented our first fledgling steps, taken our first gasps of air as the world burst infinitely open from the darkness of our mother’s womb. I feel alive. He shouldn’t be far (he couldn’t be). Catching the padding of hoof beats and the murmuring of sounds, I am drawn to the source of the groan, fueled not only by curiosity, by also by an eagerness (desperation) to see my brother’s clever rose eyes again.

Anxiously I stomp through the underbrush, pushing my way through and ignoring the little prick of thorns grazing my skin. With little patience, I march into the thicket, yellow eyes promptly searching the small crowd of faces—

but he’s not here.

I don’t even try to hide my disappointment (the festering pain). Chagrin and sadness boil in my chest to make a burning combination. With eyes narrowing, my gaze snaps to the red-roan stallion talking, giving him a scathing glare for no good reason other than I want to. I stalk in between the gathered bodies, ears pinned and the mess of my tail lashing irritably around my hips.

“Well hello mother nature,” I growl between gritted teeth, noticing the gnarled face that seems to be looking at us from a...tree? Fortunately, the sight is just strange and creepy enough to distract me from the worst of my contempt. I lean closer, my eyes inevitably drawn towards the shining treasure. An egg! I have never seen a companion not hatched before, but I know their origins and the common nature of their endowment.  Suddenly I am excited again, my mouth practically watering and my muscles trembling with anticipation and greed.

“What that?” I turn to the younger boy, standing not far from my side and staring at the egg. My gut twists uncomfortably at the sight of his budding horns and feathery wings (so, so unnatural and disgusting!) and I am compelled to free him of his sickness (think how beautiful he would be). But I do not. Instead, a frightening and hungry sneer twist my lips, and I look to him with a flat ferocity in my eyes. “It’s a monster,” I say with warped excitement, snickering gleefully as I return my eyes to the egg.

And it’s mine.

notes; Speaks directly to @Arakh
Seeking a dragon with either fire breath or shock breath! (I can't decide at this moment ;-;)
No prior refusals.
Light the fuse and burn it up
take the path that leads to nowhere.

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[Image: pixel_i__sabre_by_xxcloudscollide_d9z9zr...9zbmnl.gif]
please tag Sabre in all replies!
magic & force is permitted, excluding death or permanent injury.

Tyrath Posts: 61
Outcast atk: 5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6
Stallion :: Tribrid :: 17.2 :: 2 [birdsong] HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Harcos :: Common Red Dragon :: Fire Breath Nova
Nothing signalled the change of the seasons like some good ol'fashioned weirdness. He'd heard tales of a fish who talked, and had seen the dead come back to life — a tree who talked and had a face? Well, that wasn't too far out when you considered what could crawl out of the wood work.

He hadn't had much reason to walk the Deep Forest, not since his father had moved to the Throat. Now he had his ma, his pa and his siblings within his grasp and where most would of chafed under having such closeness — he welcomed it. It wasn't hard to get space, he had wings, he could take off at a moments notice.

The need to travel had struck him again, and so here he was. He had no particular plan in mind, no plans. So colour him intrigued when he stumbled upon the gathered equines of all varieties. Quad horned head cocked to the side as he glanced over the gathered, the fire which raged within his body flickered and flared with each pass. Until a few stood out from the crowd, nostrils exhaled a plume of flame as he finally moved forward to join the throng. Vaguely, he heard the red stallion comment about what all the young ones were doing away from their parents and he smirked toward the larger equine. "Sometimes the kids need a break from the parents, no?" He snickered, then his crimson pits turned toward the bloody splattered filly with the unmistakable face of one of his own siblings. Curious, he'd never seen her before, though it wasn't unexpected — who knew just how many there were.

She responded to one of the horned and winged present, and his eyes are instantly drawn toward the colt, unashamed as his eyes scrutinized over his muted hide and horns. He's handsome, and the thought is rolled around his head for a few moments before he moved on, he'd remember the calf. "It could be a monster," He mused in agreement, eyes highlighted by the flames which roared from his nose in a snorted exhaled "or it could be power, made fire and flesh." He didn't see why he should hide his own desire, within that egg could be a Dragon. A dragon that he could call his own, if he can be chosen among all of them gathered. "And you," Crimson pits snapped to the muscular filly near him, "you remind me of Kid." He said nothing more than that, instead, he chose to focus on the egg now and the earthen guardian who kept it within it's grasp.

"You look troubled, tree." He commented lightly, tones laced with curiosity and inquisitiveness.

This is the Hour of Twilight,
and all will burn

beneath the shadow of my wings.
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Tyrath is seeking a Dragon with Fire Breath, no prior refusals!
[Image: tyrath_by_bronzehalo_d9yw5wg_by_arahvir-d9yx9ov.png]

Erebos Posts: 474
Aurora Basin General atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1hh :: Four HP: 75.5 | Buff: DANCE
Orsino :: Plain Kitsune :: Dark Illusions & Enyo :: Common Griffon :: Draining Clutch Heather

The avaricious gleam of another day, another hour, set between their bond like a gleaming vice, serpentine and swindling, roaming from each beast to the next until they seemed united in decadence. The Deep Forest was a familiar, favored haunt, where they’d first been tied and tethered, one exuberant, the other unholy, raptured and revered for its monstrous depths and darkened shadows, the persistent of foul cretins and creatures, and the covert cloak and daggers theme. In any other instant, they might have unwound their fangs into the trees and groves, dove into the depths of pools in search for treasure and desecration, but Orsino had been too unruly, too seditious, already eyeing a growing crowd near spruce and pine.
Some of the others were unfamiliar at best, never seen, never heard, and some were remnants of memories from the latest herd meeting – but their attention wasn’t wholly grasped by the cretins and fiends anyway. It was the egg, nestled between bracken and needles, resting, waiting for something, for someone, to snatch it away.
He thought to do just that. The wicked portion of the boy’s mind wanted nothing more than to possess the valuable orb for himself. He knew its value, its worth, its precious benefits; he’d been lucky enough to be granted one before, to watch it grow into the fox creature nestled at his hooves. But there were too many around, he was quite certain by the indicated mass, yearning to do the exact same thing: sneak and spoil, snatch and clutch, flee into the woods to witness the birth of their rapacity. Orsino likely would’ve offered, but the chance and opportunity were few, and the youth had learned. There’d be a task at hand, a mission, a demand, a command, to see who was worthy and who was not – and he was a determined enough fiend to await the momentous swing of fate and persistence.
He’d been granted fortune before – surely it could happen again.

[- Seeking Griffin with Draining Clutch.
- Previous Refusal
- Would like to use one extra roll.]

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Astarot Posts: 81
Dragon's Throat Sun Physician atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17.1 :: 2 (Birdsong) HP: 66.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Zafír :: Common Blue Dragon :: Frost Breath Pare

The colt felt better about his mother leaving, since his father ha taken her place. Blue an scarlet lanterns gazed upwards as he followed his brother from the ground. He was sure Tyrath had no idea his land bound brother was chasing after him. That was okay with him though, maybe he would take him somewhere special. Or maybe Ty had a little girlfriend tucked away somewhere in Helovia. He chuckled darkly at the though. He had no idea how his brother would be able to compete with him. Sure Ty had a dark coat, could breath fire, and could turn into a dragon, but his still thought a girl would like him better.

He had the sob story of his mother leaving in the night, the light flowing hair, and of course the muscles every female drooled over. Look at Volterra, he could get just about any girl he wanted, hell, he had even gotten a demigoddess! He wanted to be like his father, but a secret was buried in his chest. It lay hidden behind what he thought his father wanted of him. He wanted a solid family, one right mare in his life. Kids were great and all; so he assumed being one himself.

After a bit he realized they were in the dark trees his Father used to haunt. He had lost sight of Ty as soon as they neared it, but he figured he was here. So he strode proudly through the darkness. He had been here a lot since Tiva had come up missing. Inhaling deeply the colt caught a whiff of his brother and headed that way. It wasn't long before he found him mouthing off to some other stallion. Dual eyes rolled and he smirked as he strutted into the crowd looking around at all of the faces. He ignored most of them, not really caring. His eyes were mostly on his brother and a girl that held the sign of his father. He stopped next to his horned and winged brother eyes on the girl. "Hello," He smiled and dipped his skull marked face, "Sister." When his head rose his eyes were sparkling joyfully. He had no idea that they had a sister as well.

He tired to bump his brother with his rump smirking playfully before looking around curiously as Tyrath spoke of a monster. He was sure there was no such thing here. Surely the adults would be doing something other than sitting around calmly if there was. Then his eyes found the odd tree and the egg curled within it's branches. His heart skipped with excitement. His young mind flew to his father's might dragon's and the way his brother could shift to a dragon at will. With the egg in sight he only listened to his siblings, keeping his sharp eyes on the egg.

Words;; 477
OOC/Tags;; @Tyrath @Sabre Seeking a Dragon with fire breath

I'm the pretty one in this bromance

Syrena Posts: 207
Dragon's Throat Forger
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.1 hh :: 7 years
Thelxiepeia :: Royal Rougarou :: Water Kyra
let the water take me
She loves Orangemoon. It is, without a doubt, underrated. But after the hell that was Tallsun and dodging wildfires in her own home, she’s more thankful for Orangemoon than anyone will know. Mostly because she won’t say it aloud, she won’t wander about talking about the damn weather or spouting pleasantries about “oh, it’s such a beautiful day!”. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t appreciate the cool weather, the pleasant breezes (even the freaking squalls in the Hidden Falls). She’s been out and about more lately, mostly between the Threshold and the Falls (which isn’t new, she just goes in the middle of the day and not the middle of the night now). But on occasion, she simply finds herself wandering Helovia.

Sometimes, like today, she even wanders away from the ocean. It always calls to her, the urge almost growing worse as she goes farther inland. But for one, she’s trying to get used to this hell of an earth bound life. It’s clear she doesn’t belong on land. One quick glance at her will tell you she was born of the sea. Her coat is seal-gray with a constant sheen that makes it look wet, with fins instead of feathers on her feet, and gills behind her cheeks. She may be shaped like a horse, but she isn’t entirely horse.

Still, her powers are gone. Still, this is her life now. The Falls offers enough water she can deal with it. And maybe, somewhere deep in the pit of her stomach, she’s starting to like the place. As much as she can like anywhere that isn’t the sea, anyway. Still, she takes the long route to the ocean today, thinking a visit to the Flats or even the Isles might be a good day. It forces her to go through Helovia, keeping her land-bound longer than she is comfortable with. And straight through the Deep Forest, which for her, is about as awful as it gets.

Time to get out of your comfort zone, Syrena.

And of course, the one day she actually goes into the Deep Forest, something happens. Course it would. That’s her freaking luck. The earth trembles, stopping the mare in her tracks for her moment while she tries to figure out just where that was coming from. It doesn’t take her all that long to figure it out, but by the time her feet (which have never been as skilled around roots as they are on sand) manage to carry her through the forest, she’s far from the only horse there. Not, that she expected to be. But she’s damn well late to this party.

She recognizes only one of them, which is actually pretty good for her. The filly she’d met in the ocean that day. The girl had a name, and Syrena was pretty sure it started with a B. Close enough. She slides into the group, eyes traveling to the large blue spruce (not that she has a clue what the tree is called, it’s just a tree to her) with the egg nestled at its base just out of reach. Of course. Nothing was ever easy here. Well, guess it was time to wait and see what they’d be doing this time.


Seeking a rougarou
Refusal 1
Refusal 2

darya87 | larfsalot
on deviantart

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Lyanna the Windswept Posts: 313
World's Edge Queen atk: 7 | def: 11 | dam: 4.0
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.2 :: 5 years HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE
so i listen to the    wind for an answer
She hasn’t been here as often as she might like. The Deep Forest still holds a special place in her heart. It was the first place she’d come in Helovia after the Threshold and the Edge. Inevitably, in a world that was foreign to her and with the dark cloud of sorrow hanging over her head, she’d found her way to a forest. This place was more densely populated with trees than her forest had been in Morham, the shadows bordering on spooky when the light hit just right. She finds the shadows comforting though, finds the low hanging branches to be friendly. Some might feel like they snag and rip, but she always feels like the branches caress her like an old friend.

Besides, this is where Apollo had found her. Where he’d shown her the pool that glimmered like blood from the rubies. The very same ruby he’d snagged from the water and given to her that day. The one she now wears on her neck.

And so she tries to come back sometimes. If only to see the trees, to thank this place for giving her hope when she’d had none. Also, secretly, to see if Apollo is here. But the Edge keeps her busy these days, and she finds herself here less and less. Still, today is a beautiful Orangemoon day. The weather is cool but not cold, the breeze light and not battering. And so she decides to slip out of the Edge and visit the forest. It doesn’t take her long to get there by air, and she arrives relatively early in the morning, looking forward to having the day ahead of her.

The effects of Tallsun are noticeable here; scorched bark and ash on the ground. Many trees already seem to have lost too many of their leaves, though she isn’t entirely surprised. As a whole, the forest doesn’t look as bad as perhaps it could. Still though, she finds herself slightly saddened by the sight of the ashes and blackened trees. Yes, she knows it’s good to purge the land and begin again sometimes, but still, she cannot help it.

Then, suddenly, the earth trembles. She nearly jumps into the air, but the trees are too dense here and there’s no real way to take off. So she does her best not to panic (being land bound when the earth is trembling is really not her favorite thing). But soon, the trembling stops. And if nothing else, Lyanna has learned that Helovia holds so many surprises. Particularly ones that start a bit ominously.

So she dives deeper into the forest, trying to pinpoint just what might be going on. Soon enough, she hears voices and smells an unusual number of horses for the Deep Forest. So she follows, until a thicket and a number of horses come into view. It’s easy enough to spot what they are looking at: a blue spruce with an egg nestled right in its base, safely ensconced in a bed of needles.

By now, she knows what an egg means. Some sort of companion. Though in truth, she finds herself almost more intrigued by the tree. The knots in the trunk seemed to have formed some sort of face. It doesn’t look kindly, but then again, it’s a tree, and she’s not even sure what kindly for a tree would look like. But for all her time in the woods, she’s never quite seen anything like that. So, as crazy as it might be, she says, “Hello.” Some might assume she’s just saying hello to the horses around, and in a way, she is. But mostly, she’s saying hello to the tree. 


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Seeking Zephyr
Previous Refusal

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Larue Posts: 45
Absent Abyss
Filly :: Unicorn :: 13 hh :: 1
Larue bounded in the cooler weather, her brightly teal eyes peeled wide as she watched the myriad of colors that painted the trees. There was little that escaped her awed eyes. The lemony filly had ventured once more into the Deep Forest, undeterred (in fact, she was rather encouraged) by her previous encounter with the vampress mare. The fires had cleared out patches to the thick trees; though the cooling weather brought the color that so enraptured her attention.

All except one tree in particular was full of vibrancy. This tree—a large and regal spruce—sprouted proudly (nobly) amid the sea of dying, worn out trees. Though it’s regality was lost upon the filly, the small prize nestled amongst its roots and protected by its needles was not lost on the tiny trickster.

She snorted, pink-stained nostrils flaring, as her lemon-flavored ears swing forward. Though her neck was growing into yearling-dom, her frame was still small and slight; a gift from both her parents. Her gem-like eyes glanced furtively around, looking at those who had already gathered around the stately tree. Her dark flaxen mane twitched in anticipation—what would happen next?

Her bright gaze landed on a colt she recognized from the herd meeting. She had been bored and tried to run off with him, only to be thwarted by mother’s promotion. Her tiny body sidled up alongside his winged, dark one, “Hey!” her whisper was loud, “Hey! What’s going on?” Her small, candy-horned skull darted from the egg to Virga.

But the filly was prone to movement and impatients. And, unfortunately, she had not yet come to fully respect the powerful prickle of the spruce needles. So she pushed forward, closer, leaving the shadows to mimic the bold approach of the colt with bull horns and wings. Though his language caused her reckless approach to pause; “It’s an egg, duh. Who’re you?” Her eyes left the egg for a moment, thoughts of running right up to it abandoned…for the moment.
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Spoke to @Virga and @Arakh

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Random Event Posts: 1,286
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
The turnout was even better than the tree could have expected!! So long as these funny horse creatures weren’t as selfish as they were greedy, the little woodland creatures of this thicket would survive through Frostfall!! Hooray!!

“No.” Came the sappy (as in - a mouth full of sap) answer to the first, sunlit colt that arrived. Trees did not normally do this - although they should. It was the opinion of this particular tree that his cousins and distant relations all over Helovia should have the power to speak. Do you have any idea how much a tree learns in any given year? All those secrets you tell are usually whispered in the vicinity of one!

Two more foals come and the tree has to wonder, where are their parents?! These thoughts are, oddly enough, echoed by an adult that arrived on the scene - a red roan stallion with a good nature.

How annoying.

Oh no, wait, it wasn’t the tree’s business to be prickly today - it needed to be nice to these creatures because it needed their help.

More youth arrive but that’s alright, they’re wiggly and can squirm into smaller spots to get the berries that hide. It’s the number that the tree is impressed with. Desperate! All of them desperate! But desperate was good, it meant they would be more willing to help.

A pale mare joined the group, addressing the foals rather than the tree. As though there wasn’t a face right there looking at her. “It is not alone, little fae.” Each syllable sticky with sap as it smacked its way through the sentence. Talking was a chore. Perhaps this was why none of the other trees did it. Though, the spruce supposed, those bratty aspens and birches wouldn’t have as much sap to deal with.

How it hated them. Always in a rush to grow in the sunlight. And then what happens? They die because they’re too busy growing fast and not well.

This spruce had a lot of internal monologuing to catch up on now that it had been temporarily gifted with consciousness.

“Hello.” It replied to the growl of a greeting from one of the skull-faced brats. Was it a mother? Well, it didn’t matter. The descriptor worked well enough. And the greeted was repeated again for the teal-touched pegasus that addressed it as well.

Wooden eyes scanned the crowd again, counting those who had come. Fourteen! This was a satisfactory number.

“I am troubled.” It finally responded to the statement from one of the skull-faced children (why were there so many??). “The creatures in my thicket do not have enough food to get through Frostfall and I fear they will die. Tallsun was harsh to this forest and we have fallen behind.” The tree’s voice creaked as its trunk moved slowly so it might look at each of those gathered in turn. “Will any of you help us gather food? Gather berries and nuts and seeds?” With a rumble, the earth before those gathered shook and from it rose several stumps curving in a semi-circle around the spruce - perfect little platforms to place the food once it had been collected so they need not carry it around. “There will be a reward.” It stated in a bored voice, knowing that was why most of them had come.


Larue is disqualified for not stating what companion she was looking for. Please be sure to be clear in future drops!

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Arakh Posts: 77
Dragon's Throat Stallion atk: 5 | def: 8 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 17'2hh :: 2 HP: 66.5 | Buff: NOVICE

More people keep coming, much to the colt's awe. He feels no jealousy or spite towards these nameless, faceless others, because he doesn't realise that there is something at stake here. As far as he can see, it is simply a gathering of people, with the added interest of a talking tree.

A scary-looking filly - older than him and with a face like a skull - addresses him directly, but her words don't have quite the effect she probably expected. If she had hoped for fear or revulsion, she's to be disappointed. "Really? That's awesome," croons the colt, looking with plate-sized eyes at the egg and the tree. Imagine if he took the monster-egg home to show Esinakh! She'd be thrilled!

Another filly speaks to him, this one a lot less terrifying, and points out that it's an egg. Arakh frowns, his grullo brows knotting together with his consternation. "Egg? Like where birds made?" She asks who he is, and the calf ruffles himself up proudly. "Arakh! Who you?" He's distracted from any further questioning by the tree, which speaks again in a quite disconcerting voice. It requests food for the creatures in its midst, and Arakh looks down at its roots as though expecting to see dozens of little rodents escaping from the twisted fingers.

Well, that won't do. He can't let the poor little beasties starve! He does not act out of particular empathy for the creatures themselves - rather, he knows that his mother's lion eats small herbivores, and it would be truly dreadful if Dominus starved to death through lack of prey. Altruism isn't quite a thing that the bull-horned boy understands yet, but all the same he nods his head eagerly at the tree's words. "Arakh help!" he exclaims. With as much pace as he can muster - and with his wings staying tucked to his sides so as not to obstruct him - he dives into the undergrowth. Unlike some of the larger foals and adults, Arakh is still small enough to slip between the thickets and roots that a bigger creature would struggle to enter. His wings get snagged on thorns and his face tingles as it's scratched by the angry fingers of the plants and trees, but he is so focused on his task that he doesn't notice.

He emerges moments later with a tuft of berries hanging out of his mouth, and a couple of nuts stuffed into his cheeks like an overgrown squirrel. He darts gleefully over to the stumps that the tree has provided, deposits his prize into them, then bounds back to hunt for more.

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Speaks to Sabre and Larue

Seeking a griffin with Molten Dagger, no prior refusals


Cowboy Posts: 22
Up For Adoption atk: 5.5 | def: 8.0 | dam: 6.0
Stallion :: Equine :: 16.2 :: 3 years HP: 62.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Never apologize and never explain -
it's a sign of weakness.
The stallion watched the others flock to the area and he smiled. Soon a young mare he had seen around the Falls showed up. Her smile and widening nostrils cause his own grin to grow, and his head dipped in greeting. She was pretty, but much to young for his liking. It never hurt to look, she would get older, but so would he. He shoved the thoughts away and watched the crowd swell. A petite white mare caught his attention next. Blue and tan eyes watched her curiously as she addressed the foals among them. He liked that she was taking an interest and speaking up for the egg.

When a red splattered yearling joins the throng and gives him a go to hell look, he only chuckles. She looks just like his half brother, grumpy and skull marked. Of course her face marking was more detailed than Volterra's. He watches her carefully weighing his options. Before he can make a decision a voice draws him out of his mind. Eyes turn to look over yet another skull dawned kid. "Oh yes they do, I know that first hand." He laughed and winked at the winged and horned child. Adding to the amount of skull marked another one showed up. Unable to hold himself back any long he stepped towards them. "Pardon me guys, and gal, but is are ya'll the kids of Volterra?" He watched them all curiously before speaking again, "My name is Cowboy and I am his half Brother." He smiled and dipped his head to the three of them in turn.

Then the tree speaks, he wasn't sure how he had missed the face, but he sure had. His ears prick as he listens to the thick accent. His head tilts as the tree says there isn't enough food for the creatures that live here. His heart goes out to them as the tree continues. He spoke up before turning to leave, "I feel for the creatures here, and will do my best to help, as I'm sure everyone else will." He wondered off hunting for food. 'This would be so much easier if I had my damn bags back.' Instead he found a decent sized berry bush and pulled off several branches, not enough to harm it, but enough to help the animals here. Wondering back he carefully set limbs down upon the stump and stepped back out of the way.
OOC;;   Cowboy is seeking a dragon with fire breath!
Words/Tags;; 407 Speaks to @Sabre and @Tyrath

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Sabre Posts: 21
Mare :: Equine :: 16.1 :: 3 years
Cutlass :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath Reli
The sickly boy (his otherwise beautiful body riddled with feathery tumors and hard, twisting pustules) seems to be undeterred by my attempt at creepiness. I just wanted to scare him a little bit. Instead, he seems to light up, exclaiming with eyes that are wide and brimming with excitement—the exact opposite of what I had been going for. My gaze narrows until I can see the shadow of my lashes in my vision, black lips pinching indignantly as venom floods into my mouth, preparing to spit at the little vermin. However, my poisonous temper tantrum is derailed when another voice suddenly cuts in.

Yellow eyes flash to the other colt, and I can feel annoyance sneak quickly into the lines of my expression. I want a dragon as much as anyone else—they are the companions selected only for those with equine blood, only the most noble and ferocious of companions for the elite. The chosen race. “Dragons are glorified monsters, but monsters all the same,” I declare with an admiration and greed that mirrors the ember-bellied boy’s. I’m so distracted by his soft flames—my eyes appraising every haloed muscle and movement—that I don’t even realize it at first (the growths, the disease).

Still, even I can swallow my disgust when a far, far more important situation arises. “Kid?” Brother’s name escapes my lips in a desperate breath, the annoyance draining from my features as earnestness and determination flare in my eyes. “Who’re you? How d’you know Kid? D’you know where he is now?” I fire the questions at the younger foal, taking a step towards him with unblinking eyes. While my twin might be all charm and smooth poison, I’m a damned wrecking ball. I don’t care who or what is in my way, and I certainly don’t give a damn for charisma

—interrupted again.

The muscles in my jaw flex as I clench my teeth together. There’s another one now; a boy with tanned-honey skin and crystal blue eyes. I can appreciate his unmarred beauty, but I’m not in the mood right now. Not even close. “Sister?” I spit, though it’s hardly a question—to be frank, I don’t really care enough to dig into the word. What right does this stranger have to address me with such an intimate title? (HAHA little do I know about my father’s family jewels and how they’re handed out like cheap souvenirs). But I digress; my title as sister has only ever belonged to Kid, as far as I am aware, and I hold that bond sacred.

My ears are pinned by now, though they raise at the sound of my father’s name. Tangled curls dance around my face when I turn my head, yellow eyes locking on the red stallion I had noticed (read: glared at) earlier. “Volterra is—” I pause briefly. Saying ‘my dad’ aloud is still really weird for me; it doesn’t feel easy or comfortable, so I continue inelegantly: “I’m his daughter. I don’t know who these pinheads are.” My chin is thrust towards the boys. It’s only now—yes, only now—when I realize that, hey! We all have skull-like markings! And so does the black beast of a father; maybe we all could be related after all!

(Ding ding ding, nice one Sabre).

I roll my eyes at myself, already missing half of what the tree has said before I realize that the plant is talking. The word ‘reward’ is what ultimately seals my attention, because let’s face it, I’m a selfish bitch; I’m not breaking my back for free. “I’ll do it,” I say to the tree-creature-thing, snapping my tail around my hips before pivoting. Snatching a small branch of berries and seeds, I walk back to place it on one of the stumps that the tree had created. Darting back into the bushes, I search for the ember-bellied colt, nudging his shoulder not-so-gently when I find him. “How do you know Kid?” I’ll repeat the question until his ears bleed.

I need to know.
I need to find my brother.

notes; Speaks directly to @Tyrath @Astarot @Cowboy
Seeking a dragon with either fire breath or shock breath! (I can't decide at this moment ;-;)
No prior refusals.
Light the fuse and burn it up
take the path that leads to nowhere.

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please tag Sabre in all replies!
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