the Rift


A day will dawn and a time will come - any

Yael Posts: 186
World's Edge Seer atk: 7.5 | def: 11 | dam: 2.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.2 :: 39 - appears 8 HP: 63.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Zani :: Serval :: None Astor
#1

YAEL
love is a many splendored thing, love lifts us up where we belong



Before there was light, there was darkness, a deep nothingness that stretches as far as her conscious could see. There, and then not there. Elsewhere. Adrift on an inky black sea, Yael has only a vague concept of time, and absolutely no recollection of how she came to be in this unusual predicament. In these moments, the bile of panic does not rise in her proverbial throat (does she even have a body to betray her? - she has no sense of hunger or thirst, no physical pain to pull her back to the light), though there is an unsettling sort of tap, tap, tap on her shoulder to remind that she should not be... wherever she is. So she waits, her mind wandering in and out of some sort of awareness, every now and then gathering enough focus to try and deduce where she might be lingering (placed?).

No heartbeat or sense of warmth, as if from a mother’s womb - so she has not died, to be reborn in another body. There is neither a chorus of seraphim and cherubim, or all consuming pain. Her people did not believe in a heaven or hell anyway - but Yael is willing to concede that despite the powers she (once) held, there were still mysteries in the universe that she was not privy to. For all her guided tours of the heavens and the depths of the earth, for her journey into Death and back again, there are still a hundred thousand things she has not done. But how does she know these things? Her name, a mother’s womb, her people; the tap, tap. tapping becomes an insistent heavy-handed knock.

Perhaps that's what whomever brought her here was waiting for. Yael would never dare to presume who (or what) it might be, for she has been on the receiving end of enough miracles to know that it’s best not to overthink them. Could it be one of the Gods of Helovia? The spirit of B'kanna, keeping her 'alive,' only to banish her and punish her for any number of things? Death would be an easy end to it all, and she would be only too happy to follow Vanquish into the greyness. The shades were -

Wait. Vanquish? The name stirs something deep inside her. Recognition. Adoration. Passion. Gut-wrenching loss. A feeling previously stifled by the nothingness; a full-body ache that makes her gasp. Oh and there is her body. Her chest constricts, drawing sharply onward until it seems as if her ribs will pierce her heart - which she would gladly welcome as the memories begin to trickle back in. Slowly, at first; flashes of a life together in sparkling sands, entwined beneath a massive oak at the edge of an oasis as intimate lovers. And as pressure bombards a hole and breaks it open, so her past life flooded violently into her; her children, the Wars and deaths, of Vanquish and his face as he -

A searing pain interrupts the horrific parade of images, sending bright rays of light across her vision. They make her head ache, even as they widen to reveal a perfectly lovely day in a landscape that is confusing and unfamiliar. She's never seen this part of B’kanna before, and she could have sworn she'd seen it all. Yael’s chest burns, and her mouth is dusty and dry, while her tongue lays thickly in her mouth. A magical hangover (nevermind that she hasn't noticed her magic is gone) if she's ever had one. The little golden mare doesn't mind - it takes her thoughts away from Everything.

Yael heaves herself to her feet, never noticing that her physical appearance has changed, while all the aches and pains of mortality have yet to settle into her (old - but not old) body. Water. Water. Water. The wind brings a whiff of freshness, and so she turns towards it, and when she finds a babbling, clear stream, her dainty little head dips to drink.

Still, she does not notice the changes. What a surprise that shall be.


all you need is love





Sorry for the novel!

Please only tag in starter posts, or if the thread is getting dusty
Force and magic allowed, no death please

Romina Posts: 33
Outcast
Filly :: Unicorn :: 15.2hh :: 9 Months
Brit
#2
the more people you love
the weaker you are

Romina is trying to find her brother, for a change. Which is odd, considering normally she just waited for him to find her, as she'd essentially trained him to do. Conditioning for the sake of safety. Pavlovian training to ensure he would always, magnetically, find himself at her side. So he could not leave her, never wonder at the better things in the world that she knew existed beyond their bubble of one another. To keep him chained to her side, ever adoring of her, she would willfully wrap the blindfold around his peaceful eyes and whisper that the world was too cruel for someone like him. That only she could love him in the way he deserved. Because she could not afford to lose him.

Romina didn't really understand that what she was doing was "wrong" in the moral sense. Her mind was too scientific, too innocent and unworldly to comprehend why her codependence with her twin was so dangerous. But in the wake of Kiada's abandonment, she held on ever tighter to her twin as if fearing he would be next. Disappearing into the distance without a single word of goodbye, a departure heralded only by her mother's stoic, grieving face and deadened voice. She hadn't been the only one to lose a friend, after all. But at least she had received a goodbye.

So that's how she ends up here, tentatively stepping back into the Threshold. The place she and Kiada used to explore together, and her heart hurts so deeply that she just...stops and stares at her chest, eyes a bit wet, not understanding. Her scientific mind is still childlike, and she doesn't know how an emotion can prompt such a profound physical response. Her tiny hooves trail her backwards away from the imposing stretch of shadows beneath the sunlight, feeling suddenly barren and aware of her vulnerability without Kiada there at her side. Her antlers flicker into flame with the onslaught of emotion, dancing colorful hues across her pinched face, shadows hanging in the hollows of her caricature.

For a moment she almost leaves, unable to handle the memories of the bantering and laughter that always came to pass with Kiada in these lands. But sound of movement pricks her large, soft ears, and curiosity tugs at her. She bites her lip, indecisive, before edging closer towards the stream she can hear in the distance. A reminder of the crass, foal-hating mare she and Kiada came across last time slows her steps as the beautiful golden woman comes into view, and she hangs nervously in the shadows of the stream, not sure how to approach or what to say. Her normally suave acting dismantled by the emptiness at her side, throwing her entire axis to the left, the world shifting with it. More a child now than she ever has been.

"Hello?" And curses herself for the tentative waver of her vocals. Emboldened by her self-anger, she strides farther out towards the woman, toes dipping into the water. "Are you new here?" Best to find out first, before she went off on the welcoming tangent she and Kiada had eagerly composed and rehearsed when they first decided they wanted to become recruiters like their parents.

Romina
image

Yael Posts: 186
World's Edge Seer atk: 7.5 | def: 11 | dam: 2.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.2 :: 39 - appears 8 HP: 63.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Zani :: Serval :: None Astor
#3

YAEL
love is a many splendored thing, love lifts us up where we belong


”Hello?” The voice is soft, tremulous and child-like. Yael pauses mid-sip, because something is telling her that this situation is not right. In the quiet moments that stretch between the filly’s greeting and her question, the golden woman’s mind races a mile a minute. The foggy headache scatters to the wind out of necessity as she forces herself to analyze why it feels like every tiny, thin hair on her spine is standing on end. A child is not scary. She loves children, she would willingly lay down her own life for her sons and daughters if need be. Ima. Savta. Yael cherishes those monikers and the way they slip so sweetly from her family’s lips.

So no, it is not the girl herself, even as she tentatively steps closer to the winged mare. It is… it is… the lack of children that is so very, very wrong. Days before the Raid, they’d conceived a pair of twins; Yael felt the moment of conception, the sparks of life as they began to form together in her womb. Their mind-voices were faint, but she tenderly caressed them at night, and after the battle she soothed their worries about all the jostling and the shifting. OH. They’d had names! Tariq. Tzion. After her own home. One who comes in the night - and in the night he’d fled, and taken his sister with him. Now her own eyes burn hot, the flush extending to her cheeks and though she is loathe to cry in front a child, the tears are unstoppable.

Salty drops join the stream and tumble away from her as a pair of miniature cloven hooves come into view. Matching damp trails streak from the corners of warm brown eyes, to the edges of her cheeks. The blood pounds in her ears. Yael reaches - strains - pushes outward with all her might, and still, cannot reach the mind of the girl before her. Oh god. Oh god Oh godohgod. Those selfsame eyes do not focus on the pretty little face of the antlered, doe-eyed filly before her, but dart around in horror and confusion - unfocused, wide-eyed and wet.

”Are you new here?”

Here. Here? Jerking back to the speaking native in front of her, Yael’s eyes focus, though her breathing is comparatively shallow. Here? Here is unknown. “Shalom,” she whispers out of habit. There is a look of anguish in the depth and intensity of her gaze, a desperation only found in someone hanging off a ledge by their fingertips. “Please,” she continues after a brief pause, entreating the girl to answer her the right way. “Vhere ees xere? Because she cannot tell, and her magic is gone. If Yael is still in B’kanna, she might be able to somehow - somehow- fix it all. And if she is not... then all hope of redemption, all family, everything she has ever fought for is lost.

It is an enormity she cannot yet fathom.


all we need is love

Please only tag in starter posts, or if the thread is getting dusty
Force and magic allowed, no death please

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
Kyra
#4
so i listen to the    wind for an answer
She remembers the moment the wind was taken from her. She’d known instantly when her sister and her had crossed into the Threshold of Helovia. It’s like someone had punched her in the gut and ripped out her heart in one instant. The thing that had defined her so fully was simply gone. Snuffed out by a barrier she still could not see, a barrier she’d never be entirely certain of. She simply knew it was there.

She also knew it was what kept her safe now. In this place where magic was so different, where strange colors and markings ran rampant through the lands. No one would ever find her here from her old home. At least, it is highly unlikely. And anyone who did find her would know she is no threat now. Without the wind, and with more and more time passing, she has no claim to her family’s old throne. Truthfully, she has no desire to take it, either. She’s happy in the Edge, serving as a Moon Doctor. It is not the life she imagined, but it’s a life she got to choose for herself.

And so, like she often does, she makes her way to the Threshold, to offer the Edge as a sanctuary to those in need of a place to call home. She wanted to give that opportunity to others, just as Elsa had given it to her. The day is beautiful and quiet (so rare anymore, particularly in the rather busy Edge) so she takes off from the cliff, making the journey to the Threshold in the sky. It makes quick work of the trek, but also, gives her a moment alone with just the wind in her hair and the sun above her.

The journey is not really as long as she’d like. She could have simply spent the day flying, truthfully. But she has things to do, and a duty to the Edge, and a desire to visit the Threshold anyway. So she lands on the edge of the forest and walks the rest of the way in, weaving through the now familiar trees. They are sparse enough here though the going is easy, and she follows the path toward the stream.

The sound of voices and…crying?...catches her attention. Immediately, she turns her course until a gold pegasus with black-tipped wings (not unlike the teal tip on her own wings, she thinks) and deer-like filly come into view. She is in time to catch Vhere ees xere? spoken in an accent she does not recognize. But the words are clear enough, as are the tears on her golden cheeks.

She closes the distance between them quickly, instinctively looking for any sign of physical injury. But there is nothing obvious, and Lyanna suspects this is no type of injury her magic can heal.  Perhaps there were a few cuts or bruises she could help with in places she could not readily see. And perhaps the dark mist would calm anxiety (though she had never tried, and wasn’t sure the magic worked in that way). But it could not mend a broken heart.

She would know, after all.

“This is Helovia. Specifically, you are in the Threshold, where many new horses end up,” she offers, her voice friendly, kind, but also serious. A bit of worry etched itself into her gaze, though her teal eyes remained rather doctor-like, looking for any possible injury. “I’m Lyanna. Are you hurt?” she asks, pretty certain she knows the answer, but still. She has to ask, just in case.  

lyanna

art by yewrezz

Please tag in all posts
Magic use/power playing is okay, but check before serious injury/death
Image by Kiki

Romina Posts: 33
Outcast
Filly :: Unicorn :: 15.2hh :: 9 Months
Brit
#5
the more people you love
the weaker you are

Romina has come to anticipate countless reactions to her appearance - bodily or otherwise. Shock, snickering, taunting, outright hatefulness. Yet no matter what she prepares herself for, this sort of tremulous, shaken response to her words is...unexpected, to say the least, and her scientific mind trembles with hunger for the reason why. But the child side of her, the beautiful, timorous girl that she generally preserves for family is both wounded and frightened by the intense reaction her words illicit. Did she say something wrong? Was this yet another mare who despised the mere existence of foals? A violent, potentially unhinged mentalist who wished her ill? And suddenly Romina is longing for her brother, for his size and bulk and intimidating aura because she is nothing compared to him. Feels her weakness and fragility keenly as the mare shudders like the quaking earth, revealing things to Romina the child had never anticipated learning when she'd set out that morning.

Still, the woman cries, her salted tears darkening her face into shades of bronze. And Romina cannot stop the pull of her heart that overrides - foolishly, her medical mind hisses at the surge of dopamine and oxytocin that floods through her brain, numbing the logic until she is only capable of being alert and empathetic. Split hooves draw her tentatively nearer, and she drops her antlered head to peer at the woman's face where it lingers by the water. And when the lass jerks her head up, eyes like a wild thing set in a familiar face, Romina backpedals nervously and nearly smacks into the newcomer that comes walking onto the scene.

"Are...are you okay?" the words fumble uncertainly across her tongue, not sure what to ask when the goldenrod mare is displaying such profound distress. The likes of which Romina has never been privy to, having been raised around a mother whose mask is impenetrable, a brother who caters only to her, and a herd that cherishes its secrets too deeply to wear them on their sleeves.

An autumn-colored glance is sent Lyanna's way, and she edges slightly towards the older mare, her logical mind telling her a healer was safer territory. That aligning herself with the painted maiden would grant her safety in numbers and a shield against any potential violence. Because the child she cannot outgrow yet is frightened by Yael's passionate emotions, even as she strives to make it better somehow, simply because she's never encountered someone in such distress. "Do you need something? My herd is up north, the Aurora Basin. Maybe my mom can help you? She's the Lady." It normally comes out far more aristocratic, or her mother would have her head, but she's unsure and out of her element here without Kiada or Ru'in at her side.

Romina
image

Yael Posts: 186
World's Edge Seer atk: 7.5 | def: 11 | dam: 2.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.2 :: 39 - appears 8 HP: 63.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Zani :: Serval :: None Astor
#6
Had Yael, distraught and caught up in her own heartache as she is, known that her selfishness (even now, to put one’s self before would be a grave no-no) made her would-be welcomer feel uncomfortable, she would have done her best to swallow her tears and steady her voice. There is nothing wrong with the filly’s deer-like appearance; was she not just Queen of a land where horse-snakes and horse-monsters and horse-moths ran rampant? The doting mother in her would adore the curiosity in Romina’s eyes and encourage her to listen to her heart, for she should learn there is no weakness in love. Zilpah, her eldest daughter, knew that. Etro and Kitra were different creatures entirely, which is quite curious when one steps back. Perhaps the difference between the elder two and their younger siblings is that Mikhael and Zilpah knew her only as a mother; to the rest, she was mother and Queen.


It’s rarely easy to be both mother and leader, add lover in there and something will fall between the cracks - a truth that any female in power knows too well. And if she had a choice, Yael would go back and do half of it all over again - make better decisions and keep the peace, give more time to her children, delegate responsibilities. Her body bore the heavy mantle so long that eventually it became as light as a feather, and in that ease lay her foible - the belief (and resolve) that she could do it all by herself.


As a stranger in a strange land, Yael would never dare to comment on another’s mothering skills, let alone one that seems to be leader of a herd. But IF the golden lady knew, she would want nothing more than to wrap the antlered filly in a winged embrace and let all those logical brain chemicals float on down to that pesky little heart of hers and soothe the jarring disconnect between the two. Unfortunately, Yael is in no position to model empathy. Maybe one day - but not in this state of shock. She can’t seem to think straight. The trepidation and nervousness she sees on Romina’s face and in the beginning of her flight response register, but they don’t truly register. Lyanna does, but then it’s hard to miss the presence of another horse, compared to the minutiae of emotions. Her eyes fly from the filly to the painted mare. “Yes?” she says, but then shakes her head - because she isn’t sure if that’s the right answer, or who she’s even responding to. “No. No, I mean -” she squeezes her eyes shut, trying to to just breathe and get back to where the world isn’t spinning.


She latches on to a word. A place. “Xel-oh-vee-ah,” she rolls the name of the land in her mouth, chewing its foreignness up and swallowing the bitterness of what it means. But she has to ask, she has to know. “Ees t’at close to B’kanna? Cahn you -” but a biting, cruel wind rushes down from the North and steals the words out of her mouth. The tiny little desert mare (so used to warm weather! With a coat so thin, and a body so lean!) begins to shake, her whole body shivering at winter’s herald. Whether it is the wind, or the feeling that her heart and mind might implode in grief is debateable, but the golden woman tightens her black-tipped wing around herself in the imitation of a hug, and drops her head again. She is… so small now. So very much aware of how utterly alone she is right now.


The tears continue to flow, but they are not in great, heaving, dramatic sobs. They are quiet, cowed by exhaustion and confusion. “I’m sorry,” she manages to say, and it seems to be directed to her welcoming party (after all, this is terribly embarrassing). “My family, I - oh Adonai- I ahm so, so, sorry. But she does manage to stay standing, so that is a small victory, even though Yael half expects the two of the to be gone when she looks up again, for who would want to stay and comfort a weeping stranger? What does register is that it’s cold, and she knows enough to force herself to stay in the present and ask help of them once more. “Please don’t go,” Yael mumbles, as she begins to go into survival mode. She breathes in and out with more deliberation, though her eyes are fixed on the ground some ten feet in front of her.


One step at a time.  
yael
by night, tie your heart to mine, and the two
together in sleep shall defeat the darkness

horse lines | wing lines | coloring & coding


D: hot mess central.
@Lyanna

Please only tag in starter posts, or if the thread is getting dusty
Force and magic allowed, no death please

Erthë Posts: 440
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5
Filly :: Hybrid :: 14,2 hh :: 3 years HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Chan
#7

The sound of voices drew her in, like so often these days. Being alone had its charms, but in the end it was company that made her feel at ease, the presence of others that allowed her to relax and blossom and evolve. With a relative ease born from practice and limited options, the pale young mare came limping towards the the small gathering, her cloven feet picking the easier path through the forest until she could stop to rest by Lyanna's side. Pale eyes moved quickly from the gold-skinned lady (not an inch taller than herself, which was strangely pleasing) to the rose-hued foal. The unusual features of the little girl gave her pause for a moment, but this was Helovia; the unusual was common fare here, and to one born and raised in the magical realm adapting was necessary if you wanted to keep life and sanity. Erthë smiled softly at the girl, then turned her focus onto the black-and-yellow mare, her tears the most immediate concern here from what the young priestess could see.

"I'm sorry, but I have never heard of your B'kanna" she said, sympathy warming her pale eyes. She had heard enough of the conversation to grasp the situation, and though it was hardly unusual to find lost wanderers milling in the Threshold, most of them usually arrived by their own will... To be so completely without a clue on where they were must be terrible indeed.

"I am Erthë, I live at the World's Edge together with Lyanna here." She smiled at her friend and leaned in to press an icy cold shoulder against the older mare's side in a display of familiarity rarely extended to others. "You look like you could use some rest, and time to gather yourself. Won't you come with us? You too" she added, and glanced at the little fawn of a girl. "Our herd is on the way to the Basin, you are both welcome to stay for a while before you decide what to do. There is food and shelter, and our leaders are both kind and generous."

Sometimes a bit too much so. But Erthë had no doubt they would be just as quick to offer shelter to this mare, and if she didn't at least try to keep an eye on the young foal that romped around without supervision then either Tembovu or Alune would have her ears... No doubt the kid was perfectly capable of looking after herself (Erthë had been fine too, hadn't she?) but just in case...

Remembering that Lyanna had more authority on the matter than she did, Erthë threw a quick glance at the dark-coated Moon Doctor to see if she agrees with the invitation, then returned her attention to the distressed bird.

"What is your name?" she asked kindly, adjusting the pale wings to rest more easily against the shoulders.


_________________________________________

Waiting for the rain I'm bracing for the thunder
A twig that wouldn't sway in the wind


@Yael @Lyanna

~| Use of magic and violence is always permitted |~
~| Please only tag in opening posts |~

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
Kyra
#8
so i listen to the    wind for an answer
The deer like girl edges toward Lyanna, and she gives the girl a quiet nod of reassurance. She didn’t think Yael was any threat. Not that she couldn’t be, but rather that this was not the type of distress that was too likely to end in violence. Though to be fair, she can’t be sure. She’s never seen someone so upset either, and she knows what this moment is like all too well. But this mare – it seems like she was ripped from her home in a way Lyanna was not. Perhaps that’s not true, but she thinks it must be. One does not cry quite so hard when they know why they left.

Had she ever cried over the loss of her family? Briefly, yes. The shock always leads to tears, and she knows the kind that Yael shed’s now. She has been there. But had she ever mourned her family? Not really. She’d hardly even cried. When your life is threatened, there’s no time for tears. She’d moped and flown and pretended she was alright for the better portion of a season, yes. But she’d never simply sat down and cried for them.

There was something sad in that realization. But now is not the time for her to be sad.

Yael’s first response is Yes, and then quickly No. “The kind of hurt my magic can’t help you with then, but I will help however I can,” she says kindly, satisfied the mare is not injured in a physical way, and knowing there is far less anyone can do to patch a hole in the heart. Time, and a place to start over.  The deer-like girl offers her the Basin, mentioning that her mother is the Lady.  Lyanna is only vaguely familiar with the rulers of the Basin, but she’s careful to keep an eye on the girl. Sending a princess home bruised perhaps wasn’t a good idea – though at least, Lyanna could heal a bruise.

Before she can respond more though, another joins them. The white form is familiar, Lyanna offers her friend a warm smile as the girl comes to stand besides her. Erthe’s words steer the conversation now, offering this mare a home in the Edge and a respite for the filly. “I admit, I have not herd of this B’kanna either. That does not mean others have not, though I am not sure it’s likely to be close,” she says honestly. It wouldn’t do to lie to the mare. And Lyanna had traveled through so many lands to get here, she feels like she might have at least stumbled on the name in her travels if it were nearby.

“You are both more than welcome in the Edge, be it for a respite on your travels, or a longer stay. I can’t imagine either of our leaders would mind,” she says, solidifying Erthe’s invitation. Lyanna may technically have more authority, but she never did see it that way. Erthe had been around longer, and to Lyanna, had just as much say. “They let me in when I needed a place to figure my new life out, after all.” Elsa had found her in the Threshold, but Alysanne and Tembovu had welcomed her at the border. Alysanne had been her mentor, friend, and now Queen. She cannot imagine a world in which Aly turned anyone in need away.

lyanna

art by yewrezz

Please tag in all posts
Magic use/power playing is okay, but check before serious injury/death
Image by Kiki

Yael Posts: 186
World's Edge Seer atk: 7.5 | def: 11 | dam: 2.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.2 :: 39 - appears 8 HP: 63.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Zani :: Serval :: None Astor
#9
like a jar, you housed infinite tenderness
and infinite tenderness shattered you, like a jar
Oh. No one seems to know from whence she came. If it weren’t for the throbbing of her chest, Yael might even question of it wasn’t all some elaborate, magical dream. It’s a ridiculous thought, but she isn’t really living in logical-land at the moment. All her strength is focused on staying in reality. Her tear-filled eyes drop even more. It’s so hard to think; the fog is thick as pea soup, and every course of action that Yael might have taken is no longer available to her. Only a pair of golden wings remain (she has to yet to notice the changes, the black tips and the spots, the darkening of her main, and the gifts tied to her body). They could carry her up, up, and away… but where would she go? With what energy?


With a compass that is completely out of sync, without even an inkling of an idea of which direction to head, and facing a very cold wind, Yael finds that she has only one logical choice. She is no longer immortal, and so she must face the limits of her body.


Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Practically untouchable in one moment - and weak as a filly the next. She’d forgotten how cold winter can be, how the wind crawls into bones and nestles in her joints, how even her wings cannot keep a persistent chill from settling in her extremities. She is not made for this weather. She will not be made for the Basin or the Edge either, but they are her only options at the moment, and their freely given goodwill would have made tears well up, had she not already been crying. Her head bobs up and down in assent, as she manages to look directly at the two mares. “T’ank you,” comes a little stronger than before, as the golden woman mentally rallies herself for the trek to wherever it is they’re going.


“Yael,” is offered as quickly as she remembers that the white mare - Erthe? - had asked her name. Yah-el, it sounds like, but smoother. As if there were just a tiny hiccup between the two syllables. Everything the white unicorn had said was in the back of her mind, and she sifts through it to find the right bits - oh yes. Names. “T’ank you, Ert’e ahnd Lyahna… and…” her gaze shifts down to the little filly, who has remained quiet for quite some time now. “Xoo ahr you?” she asks softly, doing her best to smile. It’s weak a best, a small upswing at the corners of her mouth.


The mother in her can’t help but wonder where Tariq and Tzion are. The thought almost breaks her all over again.


lines | coloring | coding


@Lyanna
Also, we can continue this in the Edge if you want!

Please only tag in starter posts, or if the thread is getting dusty
Force and magic allowed, no death please

Romina Posts: 33
Outcast
Filly :: Unicorn :: 15.2hh :: 9 Months
Brit
#10
the more people you love
the weaker you are

Romina is overwhelmed.

She skitters away from Lyanna, despite the nod of reassurance, when the pale girl comes traipsing in. They are too familiar with one another, must hail from the same herd, her scientific mind coos comfortingly, but the child wars against it, pressured by how she stands alone. A solitary Basiner, with no allies to call her own, and a distraught newcomer in the Threshold. Breaths come fast in her small throat and she wants to scream for her brother - he's nearby, he has to be nearby, he never leaves me alone I made sure of it - but she holds onto her composure with iron will. Not that she displays it well, with her convulsing throat and darting eyes betraying her. Why had she ever come her again without Kiada?

The only thing she can rely on is her logical brain, which looks at Yael's shivering bodice and clicks words straight into her mouth without thought.

"Maybe the other herds would be better for you. The Edge and the Basin are very cold, you don't seem to like it," and her words fade as preference and emotion come into play, suddenly unsure of herself with all these older mares around her. She feels foolish, and she hates feeling foolish. Her cheeks are hot all the way up to her ears and for some reason she wants to shout at them, maybe even cry with the way her tears prick hot at the back of her eyes. But she refuses to let them see it and drops her head while the rest converse. Not sure if she should turn and leave or if that was considered impolite. Holding onto her facade with white-knuckled fingers, her entire axis shattered leaving her careening into space with no idea what happened.

She's so off centered that when the younger white mare speaks her answer comes on a hot trail across her tongue, almost spat from between her teeth. "No!" It's far too hysterical and she swallows unsteadily and lifts her head high, ignoring how the flames have returned to her antlers to signify her pervasive distress. They don't know what it means. She has to tell herself that. Tries to remember her mother's cold, glacial face and imitates it as best she can. Mimicry is her strongest trait, after all. "T-Thank you but no. Mother wouldn't be happy if I did." Never call her Mama in front of others. It's a sign of weakness. She is a Lady, you must not betray her title with your sentiments, her mind croons, and it's a comfort that slightly relaxes the tension in her shoulders. Something reliable, something safe and familiar. Logic that cannot be conquered.

Again she ducks her head in silence, wanting to turn and run back into the shadows to Ru'in where she belongs. Where her world doesn't shake and her breath doesn't come fast and hard. Panic, her mind supplies, suddenly traitorous. Defenseless. Prey face to face with a predator. Fight or flight response. Elevated pulse, desire to flee, high emotional response. And she wants to cry because knowing it doesn't make it any better, any easier to deal with.

"...you?"

Tiny skull jerks at the question, registering it as being directed towards her, and she lifts her eyes enough to see the golden bird once more. "Romina," she offers softly. But it's time to go now, and she won't break any social niceties by doing so. Glances around nervously and retreats a few steps. "I-I should go. Travel safe." And she turns and walks quickly back into the woods, breath spinning out of control and breaking into a sprint the moment she fades from view. She needs to find her brother.

Romina
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