the Rift


[OPEN] I bet on losing dogs.

Howl Posts: 14
Outcast
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1 :: 4
Sen
#1
Small shards of dry leaves skittered tremulously over fresh snow.

Not far behind them was a determined-looking Howl, his golden eyes scrunched up in perfect concentration. The sun shone brightly above him, but he paid it no mind today; he was keen on developing his god-given sorcery, and would not have cared if the sky was collapsing onto itself. He had stood in the spot all morning, using every atom of his being to will those leaves to dance and flicker just as he had seen the goddess do. When she had turned her silver eyes to him, and the leaves fluttered around him as if he was a chosen one, Howl had felt the pulse and thrum of magic being imbued into his veins, surging through his body. Magic was not unheard of in his home—in fact, it was highly prized—however, in the past centuries it had become a rare commodity, found only in the royal and the blessed.

The leaves collapsed, and the silver stag heaved a sigh of frustration.

Howl decided to abandon his endeavor for the day, his energies entirely spent from the effort required to magic those small leaves to life. It was barely mid-morning, and somewhere in the distance sang a winter-bird, filling the chilled winter air with various melodies. Vaguely, he wondered if it was lonely or cold or if it felt inadequate; however, when he realized he was just projecting his own insecurities onto the bird, he dropped that thread of thought. With a sort of listless fluidity, the grey stallion moved away from the evidence of his failed attempt at magic, hooves fitting easily into the tracks he had made earlier. He crossed a small stream, not yet frozen by the gelid temperatures, and ducked beneath a copse of trees, low-hanging branches dragging lines into his thick winter fur. Before him was a magnificent stone structure, fine drapery fluttering as a gentle gust of wind passed jauntily through the clearing. A million shades of colored light danced on the building's floor, shifting as easily and as gracefully as the aurora borealis. Howl stopped in his tracks, his recent failure temporarily forgotten as he absorbed the winter beauty of the shrine.

Somewhere near by, a delicate brown butterfly (or something that approximated it, anyhow) flitted by on paper-thin wings.
but I'm not the moon, I'm not even a star / but awake at night I'll be singing to the birds


@Rikyn
[Image: FjjyuiY.gif]

Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549
Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT
Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit Bunnie
#2
Not the five feet of water to your chin



When the Moon Goddess had given her magical gifts away, this fellow had been one of the recipients.

Not that I’d bothered to stalk him, or anything like that. We’ve just ironically arrived at one of my favorite locations simultaneously, the peculiar structure as proudly peaceful beneath the blanket of new snow as it has always been, except, this time, there is a weird looking guy coming to a halt within its pillared confines. Feeling Duir’s shrouding magic peel away from me in a shimmering ripple, I continue onward into the perimeter of the standing trees, while my companion lingers behind, remaining hidden from the stranger (as he is prone to do).

The normally metallic ring of my hooves against the steps is muffled by the crisp giving of snow beneath them, my figure rather fearlessly approaching the strange stallion with steps that are light and graceful as his had seemed to be. Pausing on the steps, I cast my golden gaze towards whom I believe, by this characteristic of his cautious step alone, is like I am.

A sneak, a rogue; an aimless vagabond intent on nothing but the whims of his soul, and one who was selected by the Moon Goddess herself as being worthy. What better reasons are there to try and strike up a conversation with someone? Even if I am wrong about the nature of his spirit, he does at least have the Mistress Moon’s favor, and undeniable truth I witnessed.

"Salutations, stranger," I say no sooner than I am partially settled with several steps remaining to the plateau of the structure, "I am Rikyn, of no where. I’ll join you, if you don’t mind."

And so I do, before he can agree, or disagree. He can just leave if he doesn’t want to be in my company that badly. I’ve likely haunted this location longer than he has, anyway. I have the prerogative to stand here if I damn well please.

Settling in alongside him at a comfortable distance, I listen to the trickle of the partially frozen creek through the lacing ice. Silence otherwise fills the air, the usual song of birds and rustle of creatures through brush and over branch absent, the season having lulled them to sleep, or drawn them to warmer realms. It’s intoxicating, the silence of winter, my favorite season of the year, when all was chilled and hushed as death, or a man in careful thought. Even my body loves the season, adapted for the cold, my coffee coat thick, so thick that my ankles and chin have grown curls of dark hair like those of my uncle and sire. The snow has clung to this extra hair on my ankles, which I carefully tap off of each hoof in turn, as soon as I’ve found myself comfortable.

"I’m glad there’s snow again, and not cold rain," I grin, my breath a white curl of steam in the crisp air, remembering the last time I’d been here, with contemptible Erthë (my ass and shoulder still hurt from the strike of her peculiar arrows, though the wounds have externally mended), "the cold is not so bad if you’re not drenched."



but the inch above the tip of your nose.

@Howl

Wishlist - Plots

Force/violence is allowed to be used on Rikyn permitted it does not permanently maim or kill him (PM me!).

Howl Posts: 14
Outcast
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1 :: 4
Sen
#3

Howl was so caught up in his musings of beauty and aesthetics that he did not notice the dark bay's presence until his words cut the frigid silence. At first, he tilted a furry ear towards the stranger, contemplating what he was to do next—the words themselves seemed cordial enough, and the grey felt that any sort of company was greatly desired. Following the ear were two golden eyes, a long horn, and nostrils which emitted pale plumes of breath; Howl beheld a robust young stallion, with a golden horn and eyes to match his very own. His tail flicked in a curious manner, the bronze cuff making a slight metallic noise as it rolled up and down the length of his lion's tail. They shared several similarities, such as the tall spiral horn, a generous beard, a lion's tail and cloven hooves—he wondered if his father belonged to the same tribe, but chose to disperse the thought with a slight shake of his head.

"It appears that we hail from the same place," Howl said with a laugh so dry it hurt his throat, watching the dark bay (Rikyn was his name) approach him with confident ease. Rikyn settled a comfortable distance away from him, close enough to encourage conversation, but far enough to be polite. "Well met, Rikyn," he concluded in a more collected manner; not being one to be rude, the grey decided to introduce himself as well: "My name is Howl." He was careful to never equate the word 'Howl' with the words 'I am', as that single phrase would constitute a lie, and lying was something the grey chose to avoid as much as he could in such a merciless world.

Rikyn offered polite small talk coupled with an easy grin, one which was reciprocated (although perhaps in an abbreviated form) on Howl's face. He nodded in agreement to the other's thoughts on the weather; the grey greatly appreciated conversation, especially as the winter drew the loneliness out of his bones, and thought that this stranger would prove to be interesting yet. "I hope it stays," he concurred rather lamely, looking out towards the snow-blanketed rotunda. After a thoughtful moment of silence, Howl turned his eyes towards the dark bay, an inquisitive expression tracing his countenance. "Do you know what the purpose of this building is?" he asked, tail flicking as if to enunciate his curiosity. In his homeland, it was not uncommon to find shrines like this one surrounded by magnificent stone gardens dedicated to the gods. He knew for a fact that Helovia was ruled by its own gods as well—he remembered the beautiful Lady of the Night and her star-studded eyes. Watching the other curiously, Howl wondered if Rikyn was a foreigner himself, born in distant lands and forsaking the protection of a herd for a noble cause (or perhaps no cause at all); or if he was born in these strange lands, privy to its stories and secrets. At any rate, Howl was glad for the company, and hoped the other would stay, at least for a little while.
but I'm not the moon, I'm not even a star / but awake at night I'll be singing to the birds


@Rikyn
[Image: FjjyuiY.gif]

Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549
Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT
Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit Bunnie
#4
Not the five feet of water to your chin



Howl, of no where.

I hold his gaze for long enough to polite before looking back into the winter wood, occasionally returning it as we share words. I’ve never been much for meeting strangers, the sort to come off awkward, on the best of days, but probably more often labeled as “the asshole,” or “that guy who punched me.”

Not all of us can be everyone’s favorite, I guess. It’s their loss, anyway.

I’m awesome.

At least this conversation is going well, so far. So, when he asks me what I know of the building, I’m kind of disappointed in myself for not really knowing a lot about it, other than that it never seems to change, seemingly enchanted to remain the same throughout time.

"It never decays, and the glass does not seem to break," I say with a roll of my shoulder, looking up at the colorful glass of the awning, "I have heard very little about it otherwise. I guess the wall in the Heart Cavern might tell you more about it. I admit I’ve spent very little time studying it."

Little did I know how much I actually would be studying that stupid wall this winter, in the weeks to come; for now, however, winter only teased with the promise of snow, gently tossing down flakes without much drive.

"Either way, this place is likely protected by one God or another," I smile, not sure why I feel so open towards this guy, other than that I spend too much time alone (or with girls), "who knows why? I’ve lived in Helovia most of my life, and many of its ways are still a mystery to me."

Such as how one land could be so very different from another, and the realms not always be wrought with war, and nefarious plots. It had certainly been less than cheerful in the Aurora Basin that I had come to know as a foal, a world restricted only to unicorns, those winged or of barren crowns cast away no sooner than they arrived. Others, less fortunate, likely lined the bed of the lake, its mirror smooth face as deceitful as those who had ruled it. This, too, was a mystery to me; how a kingdom could change, twisting, becoming something it was not in a matter of months.

I could not understand my own history. Why did anyone expect anyone else to understand the greater picture, if I can’t even see my own?

Of course, Howl hadn’t demanded a thing. He’d asked.

It’s myself I’m frustrated at, for not being…

Perfect? Wise? More than I am?

"What do you suppose its for?" I ask, finding I’d rather talk than think, and enjoy surmising the truth as much as actually knowing it.

Is why you so foolish, comments my buck from his hidden locale, always run from big thoughts.



but the inch above the tip of your nose.

@Howl

Wishlist - Plots

Force/violence is allowed to be used on Rikyn permitted it does not permanently maim or kill him (PM me!).


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