the Rift

[OPEN] Moonlight serenade

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
Eventide is softly casting o'er the earth a magic spell,
And a love-song, everlasting, on the night wind seems to swell.

The night had grown old by the time she reached the beach. In the dim light of the moon the sheer cliffs towered tall and foreboding behind her, but Erthë did not listen to their silent reprimands, so used to the stern lectures already that the effect had dissipated. Already she felt as though she was breathing easier, despite the temperature being the same, even though the same mists still cloaked her pearly frame and obscured the ocean from view.

But she could hear it, could feel its icy tongue lap at her feet as she picked her way gingerly along the shore. The air was heavy with the scent of salt and brine, and though the wind lay at rest and the birds slept in their hollows among the cliffs, she thought herself able to hear the echo of them still; their shrill cries drifting by on stormy winds, the din of breaking waves smashing themselves to pieces against the beach.

For the first time in forever, a genuine smile played over her features, glittering deep within the pale eyes while rock turned to sand, and then to glass beneath her hooves. In the wan moonlight the polished pebbles gleamed like opals around her, lending a multicolored shimmer to the mist; it was like walking within a pearl, all pastel lights within the shell of darkness.

Ah, it was beautiful, and so very good to be away from home again.

Thinking herself alone, the young mare began to sing, a quiet tune of nonsense words that was neither melodic or fair. So many people around her had a way with music, such brilliant talents and natural abilities; she wished fervently that she too had been blessed with gifts like those. Alas, though her voice was pleasant enough in speech she was mediocre at best when it came to performing, and no practice in the world would change that.

Here though, where no one could hear her... wasn't it alright to pretend, just a little bit, that her tune held the power to captivate and transfix? That the waves did her bidding as she sang them in and out, as the mist surely had to be swirling not in response to her steps, but by the power of her cords?

It was a fun game, and Erthë enjoyed herself thoroughly as she strolled along the beach in the predawn night.  


~| Use of magic and violence is always permitted |~
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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

Their children will learn to hope for a Caesar.


The late hour usually brought an air of serenity to the beach, which was undisturbed by all but me. Cantering down its pale length, the sea sloshing its rhythmic noise alongside me, an occasional shell clattering away from the strike of my hooves, everything seems as if it will be right in the world, at least for the time being. My heart beats steadily in my chest, the air is cool, and inviting as I draw it into my nostrils with deep, hearty inhalations, and my brain clear of all but the machinations of my limbs; occasionally, I also notice the silver ribbon on the sea, which the Moon casts.

So, when a pale, winged figure rises into view, steadily meandering her way down the beach towards me, I slow my pace, and snort my obvious displeasure at my late, late night run being interrupted. Pretty sure it’s who it is before I can even really make her out (the peculiar shuffle, lean of the figure’s step is a dead give away), I almost wait for her to come to me, until I remember how things had gone the last I’d seen her.

An ache in my tissues flares up again, in memory of her arrows. Narrowing my eyes at the horrid bow slung to her side, I can’t help but wonder if she’ll be man enough, so to speak, to face me after what had happened. Though I tend to forget the slights before the skirmish, and most often forgive the scuffles themselves, no matter how dastardly their outcome, I also know that many others are not so quick to let go of a warrior’s tribulations as I am.

So, picking back up my pace, and spurring it into a gallop, and narrow in on her with all the speed I’ve got, hoping to insight a bit of fear on her face. Sliding within ten feet of her, creating an arc of gritty sand and a deep, damp rut in the beach itself where my legs tear through it, my halt is accompanied with a smirk, that disguises the mourning thinly hidden beneath.

I am not the sort to not want the upper hand, you know!

"Erthë!" I greet her, an ear falling back and a snort clearing the dust from my nostrils as I right my wildly splayed legs, and close the distance between us with long limbed steps, "still limping about I see."

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

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