the Rift

Holiday Celebrations! [Meeting and Raffle!]

Aithniel the Inquisitor Posts: 169
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.0
Mare :: Tribrid :: 15.0hh :: 4 Years HP: 75 | Buff: NOVICE
Zerachiel :: Royal Griffin :: Molten Dagger tamme
      the world is kept alive only by heretics

Aithniel grabbed a rope of vine in her teeth that she had ripped from a tree in the Deep Forest and quickly draped it over the rock and cactus formations. She had even draped the Dragon's Blood tree in the green, lush decorations while Zera hung shiny rocks in their leaves. Together, they worked to make the normal meeting spot in the Throat festive and fun. With such seriousness and heartache lately, Aithniel wanted to lift their spirits. Though not one for partying herself, she understood that it helped morale. Besides.... maybe she would... meet someone?

The Inquisitor shook that thought from her head immediately and cleared her throat loudly. Zera raised a big question mark in her mind and chuckled to himself, continuing to hang shiny rocks and pieces of metal around the ropes of greenery. For the final touch, Aithniel expanded her wings and leapt into the air, dropping an oddly sunshaped, golden wreath atop the pinnacle of the blood tree.

Once landed again in the sand, she gathered the dry wood and easily started a fire with her magic. A few hours later and she had the setting for a perfect gathering. The fire would provide warmth for as long as she had kindling, and the sparkling, green-wreathed meeting area was perfectly fit for the holidays. Aithniel smiled and then trotted away to find her next ingredient: participants.

"All to the meeting place!" she called as she flew low to the ground over the expanse of their modest island. "Celebration is in order!"

Her invitations were made, so she returned to the meeting place, waiting for the herd to gather. Once everyone arrived, she jumped atop a nearby rock, cloven hooves giving her solid purchase on its surface. "My brothers, my sisters, my blood! You honor me by joining this celebration, and I hope you take a chance to relax. We are going to move onward and upward from this day forward, so enjoy this respite and partake in every revelry available. We are the Dragon's Throat. This is our home. Let the wind carry our joy to every other frozen herd in Helovia! Let them know that we are not only alive, we are truly living!"


RAFFLE info:
- Prize: art from me! AND A HEADSHOT FROM YEWREZZ OMG!
- You get 1 entry per character you post :D
- Each character gets assigned a number based on their post number/order (you can post twice, but I'll count you once)
- On the 26th, I'll randomly roll and choose a winner!

But burn down our home
I won't leave alive

Please tag me in everything!

Volterra the Indomitable Posts: 785
Dragon's Throat Sultan atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17'2hh :: 3 HP: 80 | Buff: SENSE
Vérzés :: Common Red Dragon :: Frost Breath & Toxic Breath & Vadir :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Shock Breath Snow
and it's our time now if you want it to be
maul the world like the carnival bear set free

All to the meeting place!

The queen's voice pierces Volterra's ears, and his head jerks up immediately. He had been sleeping, and his expression is slightly dopey as consciousness drifts slowly across him, removing him from his dreams. With a long, languid groan, the stallion peels himself away from the tree he'd been leaning against and replaces his left fore upon the ground from where he had been idly resting it during his doze. It is rare for the Indomitable to sleep out in the open and especially during the day, but he'd simply found himself so comfortable that before he'd known it, he'd been in a deep stupour. His dreams leave him the moment he awakes and their memory quickly fades, but he knows they were good.

From his back, Vérzés unfurls. For once, the red dragon has managed to claim the prize sleeping spot of Volterra's broad hindquarters, whilst Vadir has chosen to nest in the tree above them. The dragon's claws scrape the stallion's back as he stretches and yawns, an involuntary blast of ice breath issuing from his gaping mouth and freezing the back of Volterra's neck. Shaking himself, the mammoth Gladiator steps forwards into a brisk trot, feeling power thrum through his fully-rested muscles as he lengthens his stride and revels in the feeling of his hooves crashing against the Throat sand. Whatever Aithniel is calling them for, he does not want to miss it - sleep is decidedly less important than herd duties.

Vérzés clings tightly to his back as Volterra's jerky trot threatens to unseat him, and his talons snag deeply into the thick, scarred flesh of the goliath's ebony back. Vadir swoops low next to him, side-eyeing her red brother and sending distinct feelings of jealousy into her bonded's mind. For once, she resists the urge to force Vérzés to move, and contents herself with testing the air beneath her broad golden wings as she soars through the sky like a deadly bullet.

The beast and his dragons arrive at the meeting place to find it decorated, and he raises his eyebrows as he looks at the effort the Sultana has put in. Obviously, what she plans is special. He draws to a halt and dips his head to the tribrid mare, feeling Vadir brush his legs as she lands next to them. "Inquisitor," he greets in his usual thunderous rumble of a voice. "Do I hear mention of a party?" There's an amused, good-natured twinkle in his eye as he moves closer. Well-rested and in high spirits, the stallion is quite ready to let his hair down.

image credits

[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far  ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]

Vezér Posts: 38
Dragon's Throat Filly
Filly :: Equine :: 17hh :: One year

An animal's eyes have the power to speak a great language.

The filly wondered the sands searching for stay animals or companions. She had spent a lot of time away from her angry spiteful mother, looking for any and every excuse to leave her side. She would only return when hunger drove her to her mother's side. She would eat hastily then run off away from her angry teeth and sharp hooves. With every passing day her mother grew angrier, and more violent. A shiver of fear coursed over her fuzzy body. Her bloody eyes had witnessed how pleasant other mothers were with their babies,and couldn't help but wonder why she was treated like trash. With a billowing snort the filly trotted through the snow her eyes scanning the sand.

Her course was set West away from the Oasis and towards the Blood tree. A call to the meeting place drew her gaze upwards as she tried to figure out what in the world a celebration was. With ears pricked the spider webbed girl cantered smoothly forward towards the voice that had cried out.

The tentative smile that was placed on her dainty face turned to pure joy as she spotted her father. "Apa!" Laughter spilled from her lips as she raced towards the massive black and white stallion. One overly long and clumsy legs she tumbled down at his hooves with a huff of breath. A second after she bit the dust the girl jumped to her white hooves. Her eyes sparkled brightly as she tried to press against his legs. "Hello Vérzés, hello Vadir." She smiled at the dragons, longing for her own filling her heart.

It was then she noticed their leader and the way the naked tree had been decorated. Smiling sheepishly the filly dipped her head, "Hi Miss Sultana." She paused then started up again, "The tree looks awesome, did you and your companion do it?" Her eyes looked over the green draped delicately, and the shiny rocks hung from the surrounding foliage.

Words;; 327
OOC/Tags;; @Volterra

Sunjata Posts: 69
Dragon's Throat Sleuth atk: 4.5 | def: 10 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.1hh :: Four HP: 66 | Buff: NOVICE
Andikan :: Nile Crocodile :: Scream Skylark

There was a call that rung on the air, stirring the blue jay from his rest. Slightly disgruntled and confused, he shook the sleep from his feathers and body in the hopes that this wouldn’t just be a wakeup call for more dramatics within the place he called home. Blue gaze swiftly moved toward the location of the sound, peering through the varying cacti and rocks as they jutted from the earth. Then, his head slipped toward the sky, spotting their new leader flying about to spread the word. His gaze lingered on her form briefly, watching for where she would go next to make it the location he should head next. Then, as she disappeared, his navy legs began to move him toward the place he had last seen the mare.

It hadn’t taken long until he arrived, spotting the Inquisitor, their Gladiator, and a small child with spider web markings. Upon moving closer, he tightened his navy wings along his back, head held high as his quad toned mane made him seem taller – the way it was continually cut short, spiking toward the sky. The Inquisitor began to speak again, to talk of making sure the world knew they were alive. A small smile found its way to his darkened maw as his oceanic gaze traveled across the decorations that no doubt the Inquisitor had done. Volterra is the first to speak, then the child, and Sunjata finds himself stepping closer to the decorations, head stretched out and peering at the way things were put about – items decorated on the makeshift tree by hanging them along them.

Quietly, he stretched his velveteen muzzle further, bumping it gently against one of the hanging items. It wiggled with the movement, but stayed strong along the green rope that it had been hung on. Pleased, he began to speak. “I’ve never seen anything like this.” He quietly mumbled, his gaze leaving and finding their Sultana. “It’s simple but beautiful. Do you do this every year?” He questioned, his words laced with a thick foreign accent. His head tilted slightly as he looked upon Aithiniel, wondering if that was something just she did, or if it were some sort of Helovian custom.


they wanted a monster.
i decided to give them one.

image credits

Pixel by
Force/Magic permitted so long as it doesn't permanently harm him.
Please tag in every post!

Myrrine Posts: 179
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 5.0
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16hh :: 3 (Orangemoon) HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE

She had heard the call, and without another thought she was trotting in the direction her Sultana had called. With her ears pricked and hazel eyes filled with curiosity, she managed to make her way to the Blood Tree without getting lost this time. She hadn't been here for long, and thus had only explored so much of the land and the inhabitants. So far, she only knew personally Volterra and his mate(?) Airlia, and their little babe. She had briefly come across their leader, but anyone else was relatively a stranger. So when she finally closed the distance, she couldn't help but see only three familiar figures, and one not. He was blue and white, wings hanging to his sides delicately and his mane cut short. He looked foreign almost, but then again who wasn't foreign in these parts? The Throat was filled with many cultures and languages, and Myrrine's curiously scholar mind was trying to keep up, though it was relatively hard to do.

Without thinking, she brought herself next to Volterra, the first person who had welcomed her with kindness and somewhat befriended her. Black maw found black skin along his shoulder, remembering how he often preferred touch over words, looking kindly into his red eyes and smiling,"Greetings Volterra, I can't quite see you as the party type, though these gatherings are always pleasant." At the sound of the little foal's words she instantly perked up, bringing her head down to her and sweetly offering her muzzle once again, hoping she would accept,"Hello Miss Vezer! You must have grown at least a foot since I've last seen you, are you growing up behind my back without my noticing?" There was a playful, tender twinkle in her eyes, before she bubbled out a tender laugh and looking to back up to Volterra cheerfully. It was nice to know this little foal had a good relationship with her father, it was important for them to have one, and every day she wished Laume had had the chance to at least get to know Quilyan a little more before his passing.

A look of sadness flickered over her eyes briefly, of longing, before she looked around at the beautiful decorations. As she did so, she couldn't help but wonder where the little filly's dam was? Was she simply busy with certain errands? She didn't see the two together often if she was honest with herself. The thought made Myrrine grow slightly worried, but she decided she wouldn't press further into that thought. She had no place to worry about a child when she had failed to raise her own. She was not a mother, and never would be one, as much as she liked to think she could have been. She didn't deserve the privilege that she had thrown away in the trash the day she decided to run away from her responsibilities and leave the child in the hands of the Edge. She could only pray that the others wouldn't find out, for if they did would they hate her too? She had become used to hate over love these days. Shaking her head mentally away from this negative thoughts, she flashed the pair a beautiful smile, before hearing the words of the winged brute.

Offering them both a final nudge of farewell, she moved her spotted form slightly closer to him, careful not to startle him with her approach, before softly responding to him,"I don't know about the Dragon's Throat, but I do know that the World's Edge used to decorate too before I left. Helovia likes to enjoy these kind of festivities." Hazel eyes studied him quietly, curiously, although there was a touch of hesitation as she finally stepped closer so that they were standing next to each other, her own nose pressing into an ornament to study it. Smiling to herself she giggled quietly, before looking to him shyly and dipping her head,"Forgive me for interrupting you Sir. My name is Myrrine, I'm rather new here, so I haven't met everyone yet. But it's a pleasure to meet you! I hope we'll be seeing more of each other often! I mean- if that's what- oh goodness I shouldn't have assumed you would want to meet again." Now she was blushing, clearly flustered and looking away in embarrassment. Ever since she had joined the herd, her confidence had nearly vanished, her desire to be accepted so strong that she feared any wrong move she had would cause her the inevitable of rejection. Her hoof shuffled in the sands, eyes looking anywhere but his own, as she waited for his response. For his negative words to her because she had assumed something of him.

She swallowed hard, hoping that he would at least go easy on her. Perhaps she should just go back and stand next to Volterra? At least she knew he tolerated her. But she had also helped deliver his child, so perhaps he felt obligated to be kind to her. The longer she thought to herself the worst her thoughts became, and soon she was beginning to breathe a little faster than she was before. Her mind was reeling, and although she was hiding it rather well, inside she was panicking, wanting to scream and run away and just hide. Hiding worked, because then no one could find her and figure out just how truly awful of a being she really was.

the butterfly is proof that great darkness
can create great beauty

Tagging @Volterra @Vezer @Sunjata because all were mentioned. Forgive Myrrine's blabbering lol. I'm excited guys!
Any force is permitted aside from death or maiming

Misael Posts: 97
Outcast atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.3 HH :: 7 years HP: 69 | Buff: NOVICE
Lazarus :: Melanistic Lion :: None ShadowMare

Rough and beaten down, the man let his feet sink in the sands which had once been all that was familiar. He ached for it back, tentative, almost hesitant steps bringing him closer to the heart of the throat, the heart of his home, his people. He had abandoned them, his position, completely absent in a state of being that not even Miseal, who had thought of himself fearless, dared to remember.

It is the calling of a meeting that catches the brute's attention then, his ears twisting to the sound of celebration, sound of family that he had missed so deeply. There is something that laces his blood, a whisper of color, a scream of new beginnings. Lazarus let out a deprived yelp, begging Miseal to attend, sad gold eyes reflecting the lion's desire for anything but agony. He had been so strong, his bonded had traveled every rock-lidden path right alongside Miseal and the striped stallion owed him the world for it. If not for himself at least for his bonded, little held Miseal back as his golden daggers carried him to the grounds of gathering. He was uncertain in appearing after all of this time, but certain that no matter what, the Throat was the only place he could truly call home and that meant an unspeakable amount to the Chromed.

Before him was a scene straight out of something magical, perhaps it had been to long since Miseal had peered upon any beauty in the world, but he couldn't help but to embrace the warmth that rose in his chest as his eyes scanned the celebratory decorations. Lazarus flooded his heart with childish glee, the cub's eyes brimming with curiosity and jubilance. Encouraging Miseal further, Lazarus lead the way to the heart of the meeting, new faces and old were all offered a respectful dip of his crowned head.

It had seemed that the crown had changed since his last attendance, the title now passed to Aithniel. Although he knew little of the gray mare, he trusted that any elected to lead the throat would do so in their best abilities. Stopping close to the fire alongside Lazarus, Miseal turned his aureate eyes to the mare draped in porcelain and smokes and suddenly, it was like he was home again, but this time he really was. The Chromed had returned.

talk talk talk


conjured by my hand, a storm is coming

image credits
Please tag in all posts, all force is permitted

[Image: shadowmare098_by_ehrendi-da6sr2s.png]

Saoirse Posts: 55
Dragon's Throat Colt
Colt :: Tribrid :: 16.2 adult :: 3 seasons [Orangemoon]

Saoirse is resting with a triumphant heart. A permanent smile plants itself along his darkened lips, as radiant as his emerald eyes. The boy is conquering the winds, he is mastering his wings – soon, he too would be able to maneuver the heavens without having to rest.

His legs however, are scattered with shallow nicks and scrapes. The fruits of his labor stand proudly with smudges of crusted blood. He’s made the effort of cleaning them off from the salty waters; and dips his head to lick the sting off. The taste of iron tang meets his tongue. The pain itself is nothing but a brief nuisance. It’s nothing compared to the yearning he feels, waiting for his mother to return. Losing sight of her on the horizon, trying to keep his tears from rolling down his face. But he’s emotional, he’s too open and nearly every time she must leave, he feels their trails stain his face the moment she lifts off.

The worst is when she leaves without telling the lad. Eager to spend time with her, thinking of all the places they can go, the wonders of the world that she might explain. But his joy and hopes crash when the searching becomes excessive, when her scent is lost to the sea spray – and the day darkens with a heavy, throbbing pain in his chest.

But today is something else. Today Saorise can show her how much he’s learned since her departure. It elevates his soul, giddy and energetic with this news. Perchance she will praise him, once, for doing the right thing.

Before that, however, a lovely lady hovers within the Throat. Her form is adorned with gold tips, and horns – like his. His mouth hangs open as he watches her, the invitation hanging still and mute, before he blinked and wiggled his ears in turn. A celebration? A party? Saorise had never been to one before, but he imagined it was the type of thing that needed lots of people to gather at. Who knows? Perhaps he might find a friend in the throng?

He picks up in a hurried canter. The wind pressing against his skin, he tossed a head with a breezy giggle. Sooner or later his mother would join them, he was certain of this. If the lovely lady had called them all, she would arrive with the others. This newfound promise raised his soul, oh of all the things he had to tell mum!

When the dusty boy arrives he recognizes none of them. All are strangers, people he’s never seen before with his young and hopeful eyes. His smile is thrown back to a soft grin. Saoirse’s tail wags, as the only sign of his shy spirit. He attempts to search for his mother, but the decorations absorb the boy’s attentions. Did the lady do this all by herself? A pleasant whinny exits his throat as he approaches one of these vines. Shiny metals strung along them, rocks hidden in the branches that sparkle. He is lost, catching a glimpse of his reflection on one of the ornaments, until the Sultana’s voice booms ahead.

He is swept away by her confidence, the zeal that vibrates into his body shouts out with a growing grin. Saorise had never thought of them as family, had never considered it – what was family? Was it this, the gathering and the experiences they shared? He assumed it was much larger than himself, and that it was foolish of him for not thinking as the Sultana had proclaimed moments ago.

The boy, inspired by the passion in the lady’s voice nears her spot. His whinny bright in greetings, “Thank-you miss! This is… really something.” Saoirse beams and considers his fellow herd mates. Noting the other foal, a filly, standing beside a massive beast!

He darts towards them, wings spread wide as he heralded his presence - standing before them. “Hi! I’ve never seen you before. Actually, I’ve never met anyone here.” He passes his glance between the huge stallion, and the girl that leans against him. Reminding him that his mother should be around soon. He looks about for a moment just to be sure he hasn’t made the awful mistake of ignoring her, before resting his eyes on the strange girl. Her eyes blood red, with strange and peculiar markings that the boy has never seen before.

“I’m Saorise! Those are some pretty neat markings by the way. Wait... are those dragons?!”

The boy's tail swung from side to side in absolute glee.

Image Credits

Mentions of @Volterra and @Vezér !! :3

Patrick Posts: 31
Dragon's Throat Colt
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.0 (wfg) :: 6 months
After completing his assigned patrol the faintly sandy-coated boy had wandered this way and that way through the fascinating winter wonderland he stumbled upon just north of the Heart Caves. Eventually his meandering path brought him back south where he waited at the bridge for someone with a key to let him in. He is finding that while most of the adults pay careful attention to who hitch-hikes along with them when they open the bridge, there are a few who barely notice. So far this has worked out well for him, but how long can he depend on the luck of the draw?

A problem for another day no doubt. On this day he has made it back inside his island homeland with no difficulty. As soon as his hooves touch sand on the proper shore he notices that it seems nosier than normal and that the herd appears to be gathering... again. He hesitates only a moment, presumably to adjust from the "flight", before following along at his normal snail like pace.

Patrick enters the festive scene in the wake of a boisterous and rather small red-head kid. The older boy gives a curious glance to the loud child and the little cob-webbed filly he is pestering but chooses to maintain his dignified silence and passes them on by. After some indecision, for he knows no one here, he comes to a halt beside a big ram-horned fellow. His head tilts to the side as he looks quizzically up at this stallion who has also remained entirely silent. After a thoughtful second he clears his throat and offers a tentative greeting.

" 'lo."

His front hooves shuffle slightly in uncertainty then he ducks his dark muzzle down to tap his chest.

"Pat. You?"

He is clearly trying to be as proper and polite as he knows how to. After those sparse words he again falls silent waiting patiently for any response.

Image Credit || TABLE BY SEVIN

OOC: Pat is 6 months old for this thread

Takes note of Saoirse & Vezér but wanders on by them to bother


Ampere The Mother of Companions Posts: 719
Dragon's Throat Sultana atk: 9 | def: 11 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14 hh :: 6 years HP: 73 | Buff: DANCE
Kygo :: Green Cheek Conure :: None Blu

The call of her lead rouses the blue mare from her fitful sleep. Slowly she blinks the bleariness from her eyes (tears or just sleep?), rubbing against her outstretched legs before leaping from the boughs of the tree she'd nested in. Her wings helped her coast down gently to the sands, and there she shook herself off with a grunt. Kygo chirped from the branches and gave a mighty yawn, but seemed disinterested in following. He did however remind the mother of her child, and with a cursory glance Ampere looked for the colt. He'd taken to running off more often, but she didn't doubt he was near. A shrill whistle ought to call him to her side, so with note in lip, Ampere began to move towards the summons.

Ampere was surprised as she drew near to find the small gathering of the herd and the decorations laid out. The green foliage borrowed from more tropical lands certainly added more color to their desert palette, and the shining metal was beautiful as it caught the sun with a sparkle. Despite herself Ampere did smile, but the idea of partying was still too distant for her, no matter what Aithniel said. So Ampere merely shuffled in the back, eyes on Misael; she was glad he had returned, if not still upset her daughter's item had been stolen on his watch.

Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.

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

It's the first true celebration he's witnessed in his life, colour the newly crowned Prince surprised and just a little bit eager when he glided in to his mother's summoning's. He'd been growing as of late, both in body and mind, and his mind was a thing that never truly stopped for a moment to appreciate anything. Every little tid bit of information or sights witnessed were constantly rolled back and forth, like a dragon rolling a golden coin between it's razored claws. Perhaps it would do him some good for once, to just let go and be.

He wasn't going to be a child for that much longer, soon spring would be there, then tallsun and his transformation from colt to budding young stud would be upon him.

Bright crimsoned eyes surveyed the decorated area as his wings folded against his ashen sides. His mother had truly done wonders to bring their desert home to list, and he's prompted to do the same. If he's going to get festive, he may aswell give a little bit. It's not much but, he does have a stash of awfully metallic and shiny dragon scales wrapped within a particular knot in his mane and carefully, he lipped a couple free and trotted to the rich green flora and placed a couple of them on. Like baubles on a pine tree.

Once done, he settled by the fire, careful that his leonine tail did not become a torch. They didn't need that sort of entertainment this eve, as much as he's sure it would cause amusement among the gathered.
"Happy frostfall ma, and apa." While his eyes are pupilless, they floated between the Sultana and the Gladiator respectively. "And to everyone who calls the Dragon's Throat home."

"talk talk talk"

from the ashes of the sun I arise
a herald of ruin and damnation

Credits: Image by Anonymous2016
[Image: tyrath_by_bronzehalo_d9yw5wg_by_arahvir-d9yx9ov.png]

Aelin Posts: 67
Filly :: Pegasus :: 15 :: 2

She recognised only a few who had gathered. The moment the call went out The dream walker had spread her wings and soared across the sands of her home. The flight over had been uneventful, yet it seemed that this meeting was surely going to be quite the celebration. Studying her new leader, the daughter of a god, she found herself quite impressed by the sight. Aithniel looked strong, powerful and capable. Gaucho's place would be difficult to fill for anyone, but maybe, just maybe, this impressive looking mare would be enough to replace her father. The thought both saddened and gladden her. Upset because it meant that her father would be thought of a little less, no longer a revenant subject. Glad because his work of keeping the Dragon's Throat safe would be continued there their new leader. Next she looked to Volterra, a knowing smile tugging on her lips as she studied the stag.

Straightening up and tucking her wings against her side she approached him. "Hail, Volterra." She called grinning as she trotted up. She, clearly was no the only one who knew him but she was eager to get involved in the party. It was about time that she stopped moping, picked herself up and allowed her to stop grieving for her dear papa. Living was the best way to honour his memory and live she would, starting with this celebration.

There is no such thing as reality. There is just you and me.
I guess jealousy's the curse that the struggle inspires.

☀ Force and magic permitted. ☀
☀ No fatal or permanent damage. ☀
☀ Please only tag in opening posts. ☀

Maren the Crownless Posts: 264
Outcast atk: 5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.0 :: 6 HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE
Mr. Teatime :: Siberian Tiger :: Sing Yewrezz


- By the precepts of her purity -

She liked the snow, she liked the cold, but she did not mind the sticky warmth of her homeland either. Perhaps she had grown to love it as the seasons had passed and the efforts of time had wrapped its familiarization around her. Yet, ironically, winter was when the Dragon's Throat climate was most comfortable.

Par...Tea? Maren walked up to the group as she looked up at the festively decorated tree with a mind echoing her favorite beverage. Glancing over at Aithniel, she seemed to have come up with the decorations to symbolize a merry celebration and cheer. However, she couldn't help but realize she had raised her eyebrows with unidentified surprise at the efforts of their new Sultana.  In Maren's eyes she was nobel, sure. The Inquisitor had to be, being the child of their God. The tiger mare had just not expected it. Maybe from someone like Sikeax, or even Cera, but Aithniel had always seemed too... Too much like her? Too serious? Like she didn't care much for such trivial things as grins and 'making memories', laughter? But what do I know about the depths of their individuality and personality,  she sighed in thought, then turned her ears to listen to the chatters and discussions of her family, at who was there.

She had found a place to stand beside Misael, who she knew somewhat better than other, less familiar, faces. A girl who introduced herself as Myrrine spoke, about things, about the World's Edge. She was a butterfly-winged mare whose wings seemed as frail as her form. Her laugh resounded in her ears as she talked, much like little bells. She was pretty and warm and the Crownless could see her attracting a lot of attention. It were these types of mares that made her feel aware of her coldness, made her feel rough around the edges — but made her feel happy she didn’t care too much about such things as well.

Finding that there were indeed a few she did not recognize (and let's face it, would probably not recognize her, either), she decided to introduce herself once more as well. “For those who do not know me, I am the Diviner of the Throat, Maren. I am in charge of the Disciples of the Sun, the Patron to this herd.” Because shameless promotion of faith, you know. Anyhow, she glanced over at Misael, perhaps wanting to say that she was glad he had returned to their ranks if he had and, if that wasn’t the case, just that he had returned. But without words, for there seemed to be a lot of senseless chatter going on as it was and her tired rationality didn't feel any particular motivation to add a "How've you been?" to the pile of nonsensical wastes of words and phrases. Instead, she wanted to hear from their Sultana what was new, what was old, what was good, and, probably foremost, what was bad.

My thoughts seem to have been caught in a rather negative spiral this afternoon.

In the end the mare scraped her throat and concluded to herself, but maybe to Misael as well; "I guess I am just in that kind of a mood today."

Which, let's be real, could be interpreted in many ways.

Mentioning Aith, Myrinne and talking(ish) to Misael xD
by yewrezz
Please tag me 

Iskra Posts: 79
Dragon's Throat Colt
Colt :: Pegasus :: 17 :: 1 year
Castiel :: Royal Humpback Leviathan :: Tidal Wave Blu

Heaven if you sent us down
So we could build a

you'd be so proud of what we've made

A whistle, sharp and unmistakable, cut across the desert field where the colt romps. He pauses instantly, a rabbit transfixed in the bright beam of a headlight, heart hammering while everything else slowed. It's an instant and then it's over; he's frozen, his game abandoned, and then all at once he's in such rapid motion he seems to be combating with the speed of light.

That whistle meant mom.

Sand scurries underfoot as Iskra races across the dune, sidling up alongside his much slower dam with a few circles of excess energy. He tosses his head energetically, baby mohawk slapping back and forth, while a smile settles naturally on his features. "What's going on?" he asks, eager eyes staring up at Ampere who spares him a mild glance. They exchange a few words, and the gist of it is, Ampere doesn't now either, but they have been called. So Iskra falls into line beside the blue mare, curiosity lending his steps remain high.

As they near and the gathering soon becomes obvious as being little more than that, Iskra squeals excitedly and leaps ahead, wriggling through the crowd to marvel at each decoration in turn. His mega-watt smile is beaming as he "oohs" and "aahs" at the talents of their Sultana, nodding vigorously to her words. Finally, a party!!!

Iskra looked around for Matty, but he couldn't spot his friend. That wasn't a problem, Iskra was happy to make new ones! "Hi!" he belted out to the nearby youngsters that he breezed past, pausing to grin at them and invite them to a game as he outstretched his muzzle. "I'm Iskra, wanna play?"

@Vezér @Saoirse @Patrick @Tyrath @Aelin
he'd trade his guns for love
I s k r A
but he's caught in the crossfire

Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.

Vastra Posts: 58
Dragon's Throat Filly
Filly :: Pegasus :: 16.3 wfg :: 1 year

Vastra had to admit that the idea of a party wasn’t exactly one that was exciting, but she hadn’t known that it was going to be that sort of meeting when she showed up, did she? The Sultana had flown low over the Throat, calling for everyone to gather in the meeting place. The red filly thought that she had heard something about celebration but she assumed that because it was their leader calling them, it was important. Everyone else seemed to be heading in that direction, anyway, and who was she to ignore such things? She wanted to be a part of this herd when she was older and she was slowly discovering that at some point, that meant she was going to have to socialize with the herd.

Meetings were easier than the games that other foals had tried to start up - at least here, all she had to do was stand around and listen. No one, except for her family, paid her much attention and she greatly preferred it that way. She could stand nearby and just watch - learning about the odd horses that populated this place in the same way she learned about the more interesting animals.

She trotted over and joined the crowd, though a little towards the back - picking a vantage point where she could easily everything she could. Aithniel leaped upon a rock when they had all arrived, speaking of celebration and showing the world that the Dragon’s Throat was alive.

It didn’t make much sense to Vastra, all it took was a quick look around to see that the Throat was incredibly alive. Her brown eyes darted around to all those that gathered, some saying a little piece but others staying quiet. And she happily placed herself in that last group - content to be here but not really having anything else to say. She saw one of the loud colts bounce around trying to get the attention of some of the other foals and she quietly prayed to the fire-magician that he wouldn’t come to her.

image credits

Nephele Posts: 82
Dragon's Throat Guardian atk: 4.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 7.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16.3 :: 7 HP: 64.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Atreus :: Lammergeier :: None Nova
can you hear the sabers rattling

Astreus arrived before she did, a vibrant streak of mottled red and white which swooped around the gathered masses, his chirped voice greeted any and all who'd look his way. The warrioress arrived soon afterwards, her chimeric wings carried her over the sands, even when her hooves had touched down. She hasn't experienced a festive sort of gathering since her return to Helovia, and her subsequent moving to the Dragon's Throat to take up the mantle of warrior there. Colour her intrigued when her mismatched eyes glanced over the splashes of vibrant green strung upon their sandy domain.

She was sure her sons would of enjoyed such revelry, but they had elected to stay in their cavern, tucked up and sleeping. They'd made sure to wreath her hair with desert flowers before she'd left, flowers that had managed to survive the changing of the seasons. Blue and vibrant yellow strung about her white and black mane.

Her wings folded neatly to her sides as she finally slid to a stop, sand sprayed forward in small plumes from her tan hooves. Nephele had to admit, it wasn't a half-bad idea. They needed something cheerful and merry to bring their spirits back to life, especially considering the passing of Gaucho and the recent upheaval which had shook through them.

Her companion eventually landed upon her antlers, the audible sound of sharp talons on bone clinked from the pair. "Hail Sultana, and my fellow kin." She greeted politely enough, curious to see where such revelry would take them.

Talk Talk Talk

damned if i didn't
demand that they sing
Art Credit

“She was beautiful, but she was beautiful in the way a forest fire was beautiful: something to be admired from a distance, not up close.” 

― Terry Pratchett
Please tag Neph in all replies!
Force & violence permitted with the exception of maiming & death

Najya Posts: 90
Dragon's Throat Alchemist atk: 7 | def: 10 | dam: 4
Mare :: Equine :: 15.1 :: 7 (Tallsun) HP: 67.5 | Buff: NOVICE
A'mal :: Plain White Dragon :: Shock Breath Kiki

When A’mal had spotted the Sultana and alerted her bondmate, Najya had just assumed that this was another gathering of the herd - she assumed meetings would be more frequent after such tumult in the herd over the past few seasons. Though the sense of normalcy that was settling was comforting. This was, however, coming from one with no deeper connection to Gaucho than respecting him as a great Sultan and a strong and able leader. He was so much more than that, of course, but Najya knew that this land was home to his family and many of his children.  For them the wounds would be slower to heal, if they ever did.  

So when Aithniel flew close enough that Najya could hear her call for celebration, the little mare’s curled ears pricked in acute interest.  Perhaps that was exactly what was in order - a celebration to lift heavy hearts, even if it was only for a few moments.  She immediately leapt into a canter - her legs carrying her swiftly across the sands but not as swiftly as those in the herd blessed with wings.  Najya was acutely aware that she was in the minority of the herd to lack the advantage of flight, but it wasn’t something that particularly concerned her.  With the addition of the magical bridge that granted access to the earthbound, she felt perfectly at home among the pegasi of the desert.  That and she’d never been treated differently for her lack of wings, perhaps that’s why she’d never even considered it before. She could, however, see how they’d be particularly handy for situations such as this.  

A’mal flew on ahead, circling the decorated tree and her excitement drove Najya just a little bit faster as she finally came upon the meeting grounds.  A small smile made its way across her dark lips as she saw the work that Aithniel had put into the decorations.  She was pleased to see so many familiar faces - Ampere, Maren, and many of the warriors - and there were quite a few unfamiliar faces too, mostly of children.  Najya had a particular fondness for children even though she’d never been a mother.  

The Sultana spoke of holidays, and Najya searched her mind for stories she had heard travelers bring of holidays.  She remembered hearing one in particular, about reindeer who’d been blessed with the power of flight but only in the very coldest months of frostfall.  Inspired by the season, the little mare created a series of little flying reindeer with her light magic and sent them dancing around Aithniel’s fire for the children to enjoy.

She stepped back and looked up at the Sultana, gesturing to the tree and the fire, “Thank you, Sultana. This is wonderful,” she offered in simple thanks.

Image Credit

Not sure if this is too late or not but I just really wanted to post to the party <3
Hope everyone had an amazing holiday!

Please tag NAJYA in all replies. 
Force & magic are permitted, but please check before inflicting serious injury.
Thank you!
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