the Rift


[OPEN] like the stars chase the sun

Lena the Songbird Posts: 663
Aurora Basin Time Mender atk: 4 | def: 10.5 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 :: 6 HP: 69 | Buff: NOVICE
Imogen :: Common Kitsune :: Fire Heather
#1
Bliss settled over her spine and curled through her sentiments, sprung along her movements beneath the blooming sun and over the frosty vestiges of familiar lands – walking, floating on air in resplendent waves. The Songbird flew on intangible, ethereal wings, on sonnets and laurels, on pieces of ice and tapestries of rime, lilting and harmonizing with the virtuous rounds of peace and repose retained with the sense of euphoria. It sizzled and brewed within her motions with an ardent gaze and a pressing tune, so much so that she would sometimes glance back at the brigand, the thief, to ensure he was still there and she hadn’t been locked away in some otherworldly dream. Then Lena would beam again, radiance and sunshine, blossoms and florets that had already fallen away for another season but now rested between her strides and stares, lifting her head and turning away, forgetting what it was like to be tentative. Love made her bolder, made her stronger, made her dash across the vast plains on a heartbeat, twist and dance and laugh, chat away on anything and everything (the recent events of their world, of the Aurora Festival, of the comings and goings and Kisamoa offering them the sea). Courage and valor made her unbound, unfurling, uncoiling, rippling along cordial airs and refined graces, racing onward into the plunges of entrances and apertures with more than just assuaging tones and ebullient smiles. Her spirit felt free, liberated, delivered from a bestial, decrepit wasteland, where she’d been tied and tethered for seasons and cycles – now lifted, exultant and unafraid. She could conquer anything – invincible, brave, and resilient.
 
However, she faced the unknown now too – because being cherished, being adored, revered, or admired by another had never been a part of her life. She’d always committed herself to those characteristics, to extending her heart out in beautiful, beating pieces to those she met, to those she tended and protected, to those she’d seek out in the darkest of nights and the coldest of days. More often those fleeting wishes, those resplendent dreams, would be forgotten, left, discarded, and eventually break apart into tiny little fragments; worthless, misshapen, consigned and ignored. She was used to being pried into a thousand different directions and treated like dust – known for her talents in song and healing, for her kindness, for her compassion, but nothing else. Perseverance made her stay, caused her to shine in sable corners, be a beacon, a lantern, for those in peril; but she was renowned for naught much more. Roland knows, she’d think to herself, Roland knows me - her sentiments, her worries, her fears, her concerns, the weaknesses pervading her frame, the way she’d try to hide from her defects and flaws, the drive and determination she instilled in every motion, every instant, to pursue a course of action. Maybe that was enough. Or perhaps, eventually, everyone else would see too – that she wasn’t a speck of sand or a piece of earth lost in the mountains.  
 
They arrived beneath the rusted Sentinels’ gaze and she glanced at them, too cold, too stark, too empty to say anything; but she smiled at them, brilliant and bright in her vivid, gleaming way, wanting them to see that an old friend was returning, that something anew could rise from the ashes, that the world could rejoice and rejuvenate again. Then, she inclined her crown towards his figure of gold and red, blinding against the backdrop of snow and rock, grinned for all the world to see as Imogen dashed alongside his legs, as the sense of apprehension failed to return to her heart. “Ready?” She asked through the haze of contentment, where everything glowed and swirled, twisted and intertwined.

[Feel free to join to welcome Roland home! ^_^]
her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love
LENA
Credit URL


@Roland

Roland Posts: 230
Aurora Basin Phantom atk: 7.5 | def: 10 | dam: 2.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16 hh :: 8 yrs HP: 60.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Glo
#2
never take advice from someone who just admitted to being devious and just confessed to treason


Whatever storm clouds had hung over Roland's head the past several seasons, the constant misery that had weighed upon his shoulders, dragging him down, had faded away and left room for the sun to shine. It was a pleasant warmth upon his skin, golden rays illuminating the copper of his coat, glinting off the blade that curved forth from his forehead. He absorbed it all while he could, the heat alleviating the early morning chill, relaxing his muscles as he waded through the snow. The particular beauty of winter, pale and bright, almost began to hold a certain allure to Roland, one he had never noticed before, and he embraced it before the sun could slip behind the clouds once more, and he would be reminded of how little he cared for the season.

He followed behind Lena at a leisurely pace, determined to take his time, soak in familiar sights, landmarks and monuments he hadn't gazed upon in years, things he hadn't even realized had been missed in his absence. Every time the Songbird turned, cast a look back at him, his heart swelled and he was filled with a warmth greater than what the sun could ever offer him. He was unable to help the smile that would always broaden into a grin at the sight of her, so full of life and joy, looking every bit the angel, the ethereal and otherworldly being he had always known her to be.

And he listened intently, more intently than he ever had, to the offerings of words and information she provided him, no matter how inconsequential, how trivial, he accepted them all as if they were beyond value, nodded his head along to her eager chatter, filed some portions away for later perusal, and let the sound of her voice wash over him, distract him from all other thoughts. Occasionally he would offer a comment of his own, a brief exchange before lapsing into a comfortable silence, content to let her fill the air with all manner of stories and tales. He was so happy to see her at ease, in her element, radiant like the sun. Yet still, beneath the joy his heart ached for past wrongdoings, still felt the knife of regret and shame wriggling its way between his ribs.

This journey was nothing like his last, sunken into monotony and tedium, pattern and repetition, like a machine. He was not company only to his own thoughts and ruminations, occupied by a personal crusade- and then... nothing- idly observing the forests and mountains as they passed him by, fortresses of tree and stone, noting all the things that sparked old memories and feelings, scraps of sentiment discovered amidst the plains and hills, inspiring fondness or melancholy. He watched Imogen dart alongside them, a speck, a blur of ivory against a backdrop of white, hardly distinguishable, but he observed her antics with amusement, and decided he never wanted to return to solitude.

They arrived at last, Roland doing his best to ignore the trepidation that made attempts to creep into his mind. The sentinels carved an imposing image against the snow, towering over them like gargoyles. Perhaps they would not let him pass, deeming him unworthy to return, to find a home and have peace; perhaps they would cross their swords and demand he turn back, or strike him down where he stood. His nerves were eased when he looked back down, finding the Songbird, soaking in her joy, her fearlessness, and he was heartened once more. Expecting the worst out of every situation would do him no good. He would take the plunge, welcome whatever fate befell him, and regret nothing. Above the approval and respect of others, he had earned the affection of the only one who mattered.

He didn't let his wariness seep through the cracks of his resolve, drawing up beside Lena and giving her a winning smile, reaching out to nudge her shoulder with his nose.

"Ready as I'll ever be," he chuckled, and took the first steps back into his home.

@Lena

image credits


Tangere Posts: 159
Aurora Basin Medic atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.2hh :: Six Years | Birdsong HP: 63 | Buff: NOVICE
Phrixus :: White Raven :: None Psilo
#3

Through almost knee deep snow, the piebald wades tirelessly. Her stout legs and strong cankles plow across the fluff with ease, and soon she even reaches a well trodden pathway through the snow. The winding road of half-moon cuts and flattened manure piles that winds all the way home from where she is [which is not far from the Basin entrance]. Her raven has flown ahead to show her the way – their connection allows them to share brief images of what the other is seeing. Snow, and snow, and more snow. Somewhere beyond the bare, quiet white there lies the sentinel giants surveying the horizon with home base at their backs. The smallish unicorn jogs daintily between the shit piles, avoiding the same fate as some unfortunate or uncaring travelers had already met by squishing their feet into the excrement. “Why wouldn't you step off the path to poop?” She mumbles this only to herself. Her head shakes and she grumbles beneath her breath, disgust wrinkling her pink nose and twitching her long crystalline whiskers while she moves along.

Lena. Her friend's bay body, the chocolate sheen of her coat and her beautiful matching eyes, flicker into Tangere's mind. Simultaneously Phrixus' strong feet grab a piece of one the sentinels' peaks, peering down at the pair walking into the Basin below, their voices a faint murmur in the cold deep. The raven ruffles, leaning down to eye them a bit harder, croaking affectionately to the mare he easily recognized as his bonded's friend. He waits for Tangere's arrival, staying put up high and away from the ground for now. He;'s unphased by the wind's turbulence, but the machines creak and groan with each slight movement from the force.

The silvery unicorn is soon upon them with a lope. The chore of avoiding dirty ankles and feet made closing the distance a bit longer than usual. Roland and the Songbird are only a few strides ahead, just coming in it seems – she has not seen Roland in quite a long time. She'd once basked in the pools and briefly chatted with him, and promised a walk that was left unfinished, but otherwise has never really known the former Thief. She hopes he would not hold it against her that she wandered, or forgot, or whatever may have happened (she distracts easily), that time they were supposed to take a walk.

Phrixus swoops down to her withers, clutching at his usual spot and leering around her neck to view what is ahead. Tangere lets out a low whicker while she comes up behind them. “Hullo,” Her warm voice melts through a smile as she trots up beside Lena. “Welcome home,” She first gazes to Lena, and then lets her hazelnut eyes find Roland, “And you too Roland.” She remembers the chestnut well, even if they only spoke on one occasion, and quietly wonders if he is here to stay. She thinks better than to ask, and moves on easily. “How is it out there?” She inquires as to how the Frostfall is ravaging (or not ravaging) wherever they came from, as she had not gone far before, only just over the ghostly white plains to dig up some grasses. In fact since Frostfall has hit she has not found any need to leave, for the most part. She's been away for so long. It's time to just be home.


Tangere
& Phrixus

image | coding


@Roland @Lena

<3333



  • You may use violence and magic against her at will, but no death.
  • Please tag me so I don't forget anyone(:

Lena the Songbird Posts: 663
Aurora Basin Time Mender atk: 4 | def: 10.5 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 :: 6 HP: 69 | Buff: NOVICE
Imogen :: Common Kitsune :: Fire Heather
#4
In the midst of the stories, the silence, and the mountains, the Songbird fluttered and fought her way to the surface with harpsichord dreams and honeysuckle aspirations, but didn’t know how to settle, didn’t know how to grasp, didn’t know what intentions simmered along the way. The puzzle, the conundrum, was as vexing as it was enticing, so she sauntered beneath the heavy, hollow gazes of the rusted Sentinels and waited; tilting her head to the vaguest degree and smiling at the crimson vagabond with nothing but lightness and ethereal, dulcet charm. The unknown crossed over her mind and spiraled in complexing degrees, made her wonder if she should lean into him or tease him, if she should run across the snow-laden fields to see if he’d follow, if she should laugh again and everything would be at ease. She felt like she stared at him for too long, but she hadn’t had her sights filled with him for seasons, for ages, for cycles, so she continued gazing at him as if it’d never be enough, lifted her lips in the same warm, beckoning smile, and bowed her head to the metallic, solemn guardians. Her steps were ebullient and tender, soft, airy movements like motions in a quiet symphony, turning back and forth to grin and threaten – intending to ripple along the plains in one audacious sprint, wild and bold, emblazoned with glory and virtue. She lingered for half a moment though, caught in the rich serenade of the wind and the summit, before attempting some sort of response, a reply, jovial and quick, pondering over what his next actions were to be (if she should be gone somewhere, leave him alone to find himself in the rime and frost again, if he would implore her to go about the rest of her day while he embraced the thought of home). “What would you-" and then the rest of her vocals, sweet and sugared, full of sonnets and rhythm, uncertainty laced with all the bright, regal radiance she’d ever managed to hold, were cut off by another’s approach.
 
It took a breath for her to regain some ounce of serenity, tranquility, and repose, too caught up in the sights, the sounds, of Roland’s presence to sense one more individual rising from the valley, but she applied her token smile again as Tangere granted welcomes and well wishes. Foolishness struck her temple and made Imogen chuckle and chirp lightly somewhere to her left (smitten, smitten she might have said, and Lena endeavored not to blush), and the Mender remained steadfast, composed, compassionate despite the apprehension curling over her sides. “Tangere!” Her voice rang, beautiful and harmonic, delving into her mellifluous nature through art and song, dipping her head once in a lilting bow, before partaking in one more vigilant grin. “I hope you’re well. What have you been up to?” While Imogen sauntered towards Roland’s front, sat amongst the powder and fanned her tails in obvious amusement, the Songbird continued the sketch of her beneficence, presiding towards one of her own in the same grace, the same refinement as before; ignoring the gentle nudge of the unknown, of what would come next, leaving it all to chance, to kismet, to serendipity. “Quite pleasant,” and here, she answered with a silly wink to Roland and merriment towards Tangere, and for once it wasn’t a bountiful lie or a lyrical pretense; a heartfelt minuet – all was right within the world.


her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love
LENA
Credit URL


@Roland @Tangere

Roland Posts: 230
Aurora Basin Phantom atk: 7.5 | def: 10 | dam: 2.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16 hh :: 8 yrs HP: 60.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Glo
#5
never take advice from someone who just admitted to being devious and just confessed to treason


Roland had barely crossed the threshold into Basin territory when something caught his eye, soaring through the air and towards the three of them, almost as if it had been waiting for their arrival. He flinched instinctively, prepared for an onslaught of something, though he wasn't sure exactly what, but as the shape neared and became distinguishable against the background, it turned out only to be a white raven, as pale and sapped of colour as the snow that had blanketed the ground. It beat its wings in a gentle whisper, and rose up to perch atop one of the sentinels, turning its gaze upon them from above. There was little time allowed for Roland to question the bird's arrival when the sound of footsteps drew his gaze back to the path underfoot. So it became clear, he would not arrive unnoticed.

The mare that approached was a mottled gray, spiral horn twisting from her forehead, and as she drew nearer Roland realized that she was familiar to him, though only vaguely, from what now felt like another time. He remembered her as kind and good humored, surely possessing enough tact that she would not welcome them in with any great deal of fanfare. He didn't desire the attention, for once, and the journey from the Threshold to the borders of the Basin had left him feeling drained and exhausted- not to mention that he had been walking most of the previous night. His muscles were beginning to stiffen, the biting cold and frosty wind only making him all the more weary. It would be a relief to get out of the elements.

The Songbird called out to Tangere before Roland could. He suspected they must have known each other well, for the warmth exchanged between them. He stepped aside, removing himself from the center of the path and sinking his hooves into chilling snow, allowing room for them to congregate under the shadows of their metal guardians. "It's nice to see you again," he said, bowing his head towards her with a grin. The miserable weather would do nothing to deter his manners.

While the two mares exchanged words, Roland lapsed into silence, feeling for once like he needed to shake the cobwebs off his usual demeanor, too used to dealing with empty silences, in the company of only shadows and sunlight as he made his way across one stretch of land and into the next. It had been a long time since he'd been Roland, rather than a character, a charade, played to deceive and delude; but Lena had broken down those walls, and now had to take the time to find himself again, wherever he had gotten left behind.

@Lena
@Tangere

image credits


Tangere Posts: 159
Aurora Basin Medic atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.2hh :: Six Years | Birdsong HP: 63 | Buff: NOVICE
Phrixus :: White Raven :: None Psilo
#6

Her sweet, bright sounding voice exclaims the piebald's name with her musical tone – it reminds Tangere of how her family used to pronounce the sometimes awkward little tag. In the snowy hills of  her origins however, the name is an honor to have and only given to the daughters of 'Kings'. These small and irrelevant historical facts about herself have faded by now, fuzzy and almost forgotten until something triggers a long lost memory. Her smile remains and her eyes search the fondness swimming in Lena's brown eyes. Roland and Lena? She ponders this behind of the veil of an idle but genuine grin. She wouldn't want to give away her guess at why her friend's eyes are so wide with admiration. The painted unicorn gives Imogen a small look, though, winking to the little white creature with a quick scrunch of her nose, avoiding Lena's vision to do the small gesture.

I've honestly been doing mostly nothing – wandering around studying the flora, if anything.” She answers Lena's question with an intentionally vague, but true answer. Hoping to change the subject, she's got nothing to mention as to what she's been doing all frostfall, besides pouting. Something she'd rather not talk about. And so she fidgets a bit, and her long lashed eyes flutter, her cropped tail flashing up and falling again. To her relief Lena mentions the beauty of what lays beyond in response to Tangere's question. The snows must be dwindling down; bridsong is on her way, she notes. Roland's voice breaks the wave of feminine and lyrical voices pouring from the two Basinian women, dtill though, he fits his baritone words in the mix with no disturbance at all, despite the tonal differences. “It is good to see you as well, friend.” And the spaces between them fell quiet again and the snow starts to float down from a graying sky now. Tangere steps forward, “Well, we don't want to get stuck out here if it's going to snow, I suppose.” The large corvid on her withers croaks in concurrence;  he's a rather perceptive meteorologist, as it turns out. “Which way were ya headed, I'll walk with you until the fork – I'm headed back behind the pools.” She references where the wide worn roadway (path) splits into the first prominent fork (there are narrow  pathways shooting off in all directions all along the wider actual 'road'). The right leads to her cave which is propped on a stony ledge somewhere behind the steaming pools, hidden among the slate and shadows.

Phrixus launches effortless from his perch behind her neck. He stays low and flaps his graceful wings infrequently, remaining flat and low just ahead of the group. The falling snow swallows him up as he flies faster than their own walking pace, but Tangere can feel that he's still only just ahead.


Tangere
& Phrixus

image | coding



@Roland
@Lena

eeek i'm sorry for the wait D:
i'm a butthead

HOPE YOUR HOLIDAYS WERE AWESOME THOUGH
aslo, happy new year!



  • You may use violence and magic against her at will, but no death.
  • Please tag me so I don't forget anyone(:

Lena the Songbird Posts: 663
Aurora Basin Time Mender atk: 4 | def: 10.5 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 :: 6 HP: 69 | Buff: NOVICE
Imogen :: Common Kitsune :: Fire Heather
#7
The Songbird was wildly content – heart, mind, and soul cast into the sunbeams and the harmonic reverie, watching over idle chitchat, parading through the soft lights of snow and the approach of spring. She wished all days could be like this, peaceful, full of repose and sanctuary, no worries, no fears, no trials or tribulations, no hint of shadows or battles, just the long, sweeping sentiment of kindness, beneficence, and everything in between. These hours were meant to be cherished, clasped and clenched lightly in case they dared to flicker away, faltering off into more maddening backdrops and calamitous pursuits, and she wished she could paint a picture of it. Her strokes would be steady and full of vivid, wondrous color, hues that matched the beautiful dawn, Tangere’s coat of patched grays (dapples of argent and silver, like steel, like silk), and Roland’s sharp, crimson figure aligned against the endless sea of white powder, crystals, and ice. She’d put smiles on their faces and rapture in their eyes, encase them all in lacquer so it couldn’t be altered or tainted, and she’d place it upon some cavern mantle for everyone to know, for everyone to see, how simply, how wonderful, everything could be without barbs, without thorns. But she was no artist; only a healer, only a composer, writing out songs, ditties, and refrains that could encompass mending, soothing tones or dastardly, dark, dangerous insinuations – so she tucked the image in her head for safekeeping instead, embroidered it in fine lace and woven satin, pondered over how many dreams could be made real, or everything was mere fantasy. Her grin ceased to fade though, glancing at all of them, huddled together in the great opening maw of the Basin, where the winds chilled and their bones ached, and strength was worn along crowns and frames; the gallant, the brave, and the intrepid, lined and fervent, eager and ready, to set sail upon the plain.
 
She thought for a moment Tangere intended to slip away, that she’d walk down towards her cave and forget them instances later – the occasion passed, too fragile to be continued. The dove’s features fought against a certain layer of disheartenment, ensured her shroud, her veil, was in tact, whimsical around the eyes and her lips, chancing a glance at Roland – to see what he yearned to do, if he was done and settled upon moving ahead, rummaging down a road he hadn’t traversed in some time. Then her stare looked upon the snow, lingered upon Imogen and her waving tails, her silly, knowing snicker, the flare of memories of a time before this one, so many seasons ago, when merriment had seemed distant and strange (but cultivated all the same). There’d been the icy King Mauja, a beautiful wolf, a warrior woman with antlers, and her, gallivanting across the mountaintops, the peaks, the valleys, crammed together in an onslaught of silliness and diversion. They hadn’t had time to brood, to fixate on troubles, on the brewing onslaught waiting for them weeks later – just absolute joy and amusement. Didn’t they deserve that now?
 
Imogen chirped, nodding in her foxy, cunning way, swinging the ends of her tails into the snow, and Lena dared not laugh at the impending situation, only ensued the fondest, softest of whispers, a devilish nudge to her mouth, curling at the sides in a wide, delighted grin. “Or perhaps...,” she launched forward, and this was the only signal the kitsune required, for while Lena cast her eyes upon a large mound of snow, the vixen swung her tails in an obnoxious display, sending a round of powder towards Roland’s face. In the next whirlwind of movement, the Songbird lowered her head for the smallest of seconds, digging her horn into the lush particles and sending it upwards in a hail of frozen frenzies near Tangere’s right shoulder. She couldn’t contain her giggles any longer, splashing exuberance and effervescence in a wild, untamed display, curling and coiling into the snow, twisting and turning in several different directions, attempting to wile and will them into her game. It was levity and zest, buoyancy and joy, and she hoped, hoped, and hoped they’d play along, forgoing hesitation to join her in the revelry and mirth. 

[SNOWBALL FIGHT. :D]
her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love
LENA
Credit URL


@Roland @Tangere

Roland Posts: 230
Aurora Basin Phantom atk: 7.5 | def: 10 | dam: 2.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16 hh :: 8 yrs HP: 60.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Glo
#8
never take advice from someone who just admitted to being devious and just confessed to treason


It was quiet between the three of them as the first snowflakes began to descend upon the hills, slowly, almost timidly, as they tumbled through the air, settled upon their backs. Tangere invited them to follow her across the border with a nod of her head, and turned to venture back the way she had come, to lead them underneath the stony gazes of the Sentinels and into the arms of the Basin. Her mention of the hot springs had longing welling up in the copper stallion's chest, and he could imagine nothing more satisfying than the prospect of sinking himself into warm, bubbling water and allowing the steam to loosen the knots in his muscles, soothe the persistent ache in his hooves and knees. He made to follow the pale mare over the crest of the hill, casting a glance over to Lena first, as eager to learn what she intended to do as she seemed to learn of him; their eyes met for a brief moment- warmth swelling back into his chest- before the Mender turned away, her gaze cast across the heaps and drifts of snow that had so thoroughly blanketed the land. There was a small smile upon her lips, similar to the one that had yet to fade from Roland's, as she eyed the wintry landscape speculatively.

It was followed swiftly by a moment of silent communication observed between mare and vixen, ideas and notions that passed between them unvoiced, and Roland could not have caught the inklings exchanged if he had tried. Then the Songbird's smile twisted into something mischievous, a new spark in her eyes, before she launched into action and dove into the deep snow.

The stallion was hardly given time enough to process it, a whirlwind of movement and chaos, when a wave of snow sprayed across his shoulder, pinpricks of cold sent scattering across his hide, and he turned a wide-eyed gaze upon the small kitsune responsible, camouflaged as she was against the landscape. The aghast look upon Roland's face fell, traded for a grin as he shook the snow from his hide and turned, hooves churning the ground beneath him as he followed suit and leapt into the deep drifts. It swelled up to his knees, cold and seizing, but instead of recoiling, of bemoaning the icy sensation as it crept across his skin, up to his chest, he simply dove deeper. A laugh bubbled up out of his chest as he plunged his muzzle into the powder and pulled, tossing his head in an arch aimed towards Imogen, hopefully dousing her in a pile of snow, delightful retribution. He pulled his head back and grinned, leaning on his haunches as he looked to where Lena was casting her own volley towards the unwitting Tangere, and heaved himself back onto the path.

The cold air was an unpleasant ache in his lungs, but energy sung through his veins, warming him against the northern winds, and with the sun beating down upon them it was easy to forget his distaste for the weather. The trepidation he had felt at the idea of re-entering his home was also frightened away by the flying snow, and in the midst of it all, the vigor and madness, he forgot to feel afraid.

@Lena
@Tangere
image credits


Tangere Posts: 159
Aurora Basin Medic atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.2hh :: Six Years | Birdsong HP: 63 | Buff: NOVICE
Phrixus :: White Raven :: None Psilo
#9


“how long is forever?” asked alice.
“sometimes just one second.” said the white rabbit.

______________________________________



Tangere is kept in place with the snag of Lena's warm smile, happily ensnared in her contagious softness. Her eyes drift over to Roland, then down to the many-tailed fox who is seemingly as cheerful as her unicorn counterpart. Grayness descends and so do the last tumbling flakes of a soon to move along Frostfall. Tangere's gaze does not have time to catch up with the launch of her bay compadre's onslaught of snowy chunkage. The piebald shrieks and the raven, with no patience for games apparently, pushes off of her back and into the hazy sky. She lets out a giggle, playfully kicking whatever powder she manages to scoop with her back legs lazily swinging behind her. “You scoundrels!” She laughs, her head flying up and her stubby bits of tail doing the same.

Aha!” She spins on a heel and wings of white spread out from her sliding pivot through the fluff. She mimics the bay's moves, trying to spray them both with one thrust of her forelimbs into the snow. She flings, twists, dances and scoops the light material in fun and playful retaliation. After some throwing and dodging she's left taking in deep satisfying lungfuls. Her long fuzzy coat covered in random, broken puzzle pieces of packed snow, her silky hair collecting much of the ricochet.

Without cue, or preparation for that matter, she drops to her knees and flops onto her side. Grunts of effort escape without volunteer as she squirms delightedly from side to side. She sits up, but does not stand up giving the pair to her side a devious look out of the side of her vision...pausing with baited breath for just a few seconds. She falls back into a roll again and scoops what she can with her wide reindeer feet to flick it toward them.






@Lena
@Roland

I'm a horrible person x.x

sorry for bringing a snow ball fight well into birdsong D:
i was away for minute
<3



  • You may use violence and magic against her at will, but no death.
  • Please tag me so I don't forget anyone(:


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