the Rift

raise atlantis

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

The urge to hold his first meeting brews strong in the goliath's great chest. There is something raw and primal about standing at the head of the herd he now rules, watching them gather before his hooves whilst he addresses them as their leader, their chief protector. It sends shivers of thrill down his spine, and his dragons feed off this sensation as they dive around him. They both adore power too, especially Vadir, and she wouldn't dream of missing such a momentous event.

As eager as he is, Volterra waits until early evening before he calls the meeting. It would be cruel to expect the Throat's masses to gather under the searing Tallsun heat, so there's a pleasant chill in the air by the time the Indomitable prowls through his home and towards his chosen meeting spot. The day's sweat has been cleansed from him in the oasis - a Sultan cannot be scruffy! - and his muscles ripple and pulse beneath his glossy ebony coat. Vadir rides on his back, having forcibly shifted Vérzés when he made his claim upon the prize spot. The queen demands to be in pride of place during this first meeting, and she too gleams like the rays of the sun as she sits tall and strong atop the stallion's broad withers. Her red brother flies overhead, somewhat disgruntled at being ousted but unable to bear too much of a grudge due to the excitement glowing through his mind.

Sand crunches beneath his colossal weight as he ascends a small sand dune, giving him enough height to see above the mass of citizens when they begin to arrive. Having found his spot, Volterra lifts his heavy head and unleashes a thunderous stallion's bellow, calling the herd to him.

-------*everyone arrives*----------

Volterra is not the sort to suffer from anxiety, but he would be lying if he didn't admit to a small crawling of nervousness in his gut, like the twist of a knife. Addressing such a large crowd is slightly daunting, as much as he prides himself on being dauntless. "Welcome, citizens of the Dragon's Throat. I hope the season's heat isn't wearing you all down too much." Nice one, Vol, talking about the weather, he silently berates himself. "We have a fair few announcements to get through, so I will get straight to the point. Firstly, there are to be a couple of rule changes." He glances around, ensuring each member of the Throat receives a small darting of his ruby gaze across them. "Under previous regimes, only the highest ranks could accept new members into the herd. From now on, however, anybody who holds rank magic will have the power to accept newcomers into our midst. Despite this, anybody may go to the Threshold to invite people to join us, and you are all encouraged to do so. I intend to hold a competition of sorts, and whoever recruits the most new members during the seasons of Tallsun and Orangemoon will receive a prize. I will leave the nature of this prize secret for now, but I am sure you will all wish to receive it." His eyes glint with untold secrets.

"Although the herd has always traditionally favoured pegasi, I believe in equality between the species. We are a family, and you will be treated equally upon our sands whether you bear a horn, wings, or nothing." There's a sternness in his deep rumble of a voice that increases during this last part. Racism will not be tolerated - ironic, given the man whose loins Volterra spawned from. "Visitors who approach the herd are to be treated with caution, but not outright hostility unless they display it first. In such a scenario, you must summon myself, the Sultana, or another high rank as soon as possible. Otherwise, remain civil - they may wish to join us." Another glance around is given. "For now, we are going to abolish seasonal patrols. Although you are all expected to gain as much information as you can on the neutral lands whenever you happen to be there, you will not be assigned a particular land to travel to. You are all encouraged to visit the Spectral Marsh as much as possible to try and gain information regarding Kaos. I have visited many times myself without luck, but the more pairs of eyes we have searching for clues, the more chance we have of finding something that will enable us to defeat him."

"In an effort to keep our highest ranks active, I intend to reassess them once a year. This is to encourage activity and to ensure our ranks will be used by the people who hold them. Which brings me directly to my next point." With a broad smile he looks across the herd, pride radiating in his features as he looks particularly at Astarot. His son, about to be elevated to a magic-bearing rank! "Syrena and Zèklè will be our new Artisans, charged with using that rank's magic to craft for the herd. Tae and Najya will retain their positions as Alchemists, and will be joined by Astarot." He flashes a grin towards his pale-faced son. "Our new Informants will be Sunjata and Ilios." Filling the highest ranks is of utmost importance, especially during these dark times.

"Finally - and perhaps most importantly - there is the issue of our new Sultana. As you all know, Aithniel has been sent on a quest by our own Sun God, and whilst we wish her all the best on her travels, we need to find somebody who can fill the space she has left behind." His crimson gaze travels across the Throatians, finally resting upon Ampere and offering her the smallest of rogueish smiles. "Ampere has served the Throat dutifully for many years, proving her worth on the battlefield as well as with matters of politics. For those reasons, amongst dozens of others, I have decided that she will rule at my side." He unleashes a loud, welcoming snort to the Mother of Companions and shuffles aside, inviting her with a gesture of his muzzle to stand beside him before their herd. "I believe she has some things of her own to say." He glances encouragingly at the stout mare.

image credits

Please allow Ampere to post first!

The main rule changes are as follows:

- Now characters with rank magic can accept newcomers, not just the Sultan/a
- Pegasi no longer favoured - all species equal
- Applications will be put up for the high ranks each Helovian year, meaning people in those ranks will need to reapply. As long as you're active you will retain your rank, this is to weed out inactivity and to encourage new people into ranks :D

Rank changes are as follows:

- @Ampere to Sultana
- @Syrena and @Zèklè to Artisan
- @Najya , @Tae and @Astarot to Alchemist
- @Sunjata and @Ilios to Informant
Which means you all get rank magic, yay! Congrats guys :D

[ 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 ]

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
"Any existence deprived of freedom is a kind of death" -- Michel Aoun

It sounds different, the call, but it's ummistakable what it is. Ampere pauses in her stride, ears flicking towards the summons, whiskered muzzle twitching in the fading light.
"Ready?" A voice probes innocently, a hopeful tinge of green swirling into the stream of her thoughts.
Ampere exhales a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and nods stiffly. "Yeah," her mind comments absently, eyes and awareness drifting somewhere else. "I think so."

It's enough to get her going again, wading through the sand and rock. green parrot on her shoulder and ashes buried somewhere in her chest. She's nearby, having expected it, and quietly settles in with a knowing eye as the rest of the herd assembles.

Volterra earns a wry smile from her as he begins. There's an obvious newness to him, much in the way a flier's first flight is a jumble of feathers and excitement, but Volterra is made to soar even if he's without wings. He evens out, and his role is fortified as he continues to speak with an assurance that is soothing. He leaves no room for argument as he details some changes and doles out the ranks, and Ampere finds herself nodding along to the rhythm of his voice and the purpose of his words.

Then it's her name on his tongue, and like static in the air there is a ripple of change, of energy, of expectancy. Ampere holds her head high as she moves into position alongside him, the blue of her gaze cast out to the herd, the family that stands before them. It's surreal, to be back in this role, and her jaw clenches with the hot desire to lift all of them up, to set them all into flight. "I will not fail them," she affirms, and the green parrot on her back chirps in agreement.

Much like Volterra, Ampere does not dwell on the shift of their politics. There is too much for them to do to focus on the who or the why, so Ampere merely cut through it, getting to the intent that her and Volterra had discussed previously. "Our warrior ranks remain hungry. If you've any interest in protecting the herd, please see Volterra or myself for appointment." She did not expand on their intent to hold a tournament to compete with the other herds. As Volterra had said, they ought to bolster their own forces before attempting to show off, though she had no doubt in their capacity, for the Throat had always excelled in providing hardy fighters - the desert landscape promoted such.

"To the newly promoted Informants, know this- we will no longer be a herd that promotes theft of other horses or their goods. The only qualifying reason to take something from someone else is if it's being rightfully returned to its original owner whom was taken from, and prisoner's ought only to be held if deemed as punishment for a crime. Otherwise your skill sets are better applied towards gaining intel on the realm and its proceedings, and ensuring that our herd is not threatened by outside sneaks. Volterra and I will deal with such interlopers by force if you catch any such attempts upon our members and our parcels." Ampere snorted decisively. This rule was nothing new, not really, but if it had gone unspoken before she was saying it now, and it was something both she and Volterra firmly believed.

"If you want something, there are other means available to you, such as an honorable challenge for the goods or requesting its creation of our crafters." Here Ampere smiled slightly, her gaze turning to the newly appointed crafters, her eldest and newly returned son among them. "To our newly appointed Artisans we ask you keep the forges busy each season. Speak with Volterra and I about the plans of the herd, but otherwise craft weapons, armor, and other goods to equip our family. We've got a valuable resource here that should not be squandered with sloth or indecision; if the herd has no current need, then others herds surely do with whom we could arrange trades."

"We will be reaffirming our official position with both the Aurora Basin and the World's Edge. Currently we caution you against traveling too far to the northern herd, where as the western Edge is generally more hospitable. To any herd however we expect you'll be courteous and civil unless provoked or threatened." Her tail swayed at her hocks as she fell quiet for a moment and regarded them all with a heavy stare, a mother's look. "You are advised against traveling alone, especially into the Wilds. We still don't know much about Kaos, but we do know it's dangerous, and therefore we must remain vigilant and safe. These are dangerous times, and we look tot he Sun to light our path and to shield us with his flames."

She let the weight of her words sink in before continuing. "We are more than a herd," she began, her voice firm with conviction, "we are a family and we will always defend each other. Families may argue at times, but such will never stand in the way of our love for one another. If you need a mediator, Maren, our Diviner, is always available." Ampere's gaze looked for and rested kindly on the tiger mare. "As Volterra said, we treat each other equally - this extends to horse and companion within this herd." An electric wisp curled off her coat as the very edges of her body shivered out of existence, replaced with veins of lightning, before solidifying back into taut skin once again. "Any questions?"

Credits: Image by Tabini
Coding by Tamme

Open for posting from everyone now!

Ampere's main talking points & herd rule changes:
- Many warrior ranks still open, please let us know if you're interested! We will be having a sort of fighting tournament where we invite the other herds/outcasts to compete for best fighter title and a prize soon :) We don't want to embarrass ourselves though so let's fill our warrior ranks ;) (whispers recruit your buns off)

- You may not steal another character/their items. Only allowable if taking someone prisoner for a crime (as directed by the leads and less likely to occur over a physical exchange) or if stealing something back that was already stolen, especially if it belongs to one of our herd members.

- Crafters should be using their potential every season! Aside from herd crafts, make things for the rest of the herd members like weapons, armor, or other items :) Perhaps a running list in the secret board would be a good idea where people could 'commission' the crafters?

- Alliances with the 2 other herds are unknown as of now but we should retain peaceful/neutral terms with both. We may open up regular trading with one or both.

- Kaos is a scary and is a threat to the realm! Be aware of his looming presence and as such take some safety precautions, especially when traveling.

- This herd is a family! Treat each other kindly, companions included, or seek out counseling from the Diviner.

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

Vitani Posts: 92
Dragon's Throat Mare atk: 3.5 | def: 8 | dam: 7
Mare :: Equine :: 14.2 :: Three Years HP: 67 | Buff: NOVICE
Sarabi :: Common Hellhound :: Hellfire Emily

I have been hiding out the best I can in the desert since Volterra brought me home. I had asked not to take up any rank as of yet, simply because this would be the first time I would be living outside the walls of the Falls. Ha, that rhymed a bit. My sultan had been right, about doing what we did while I was in heat. My sides have rounded out quiet a bit since he saw me last. Not that he's checked in. I ignore Sarabi's mental complaint. I know she is right, as I have not seen him come and nor has she. That is not to say he did not find me as we slept. I have been sleeping much deeper, knowing that I am safe within the island that is the Throat.

We are just settling down for the night after a dip in the oasis when.... A thundering call rings out, the voice all to familiar. I smile, knowing that Volterra is near. The babe inside me moves and kicks, as if he or she knows that voice too. Oh come on.... As if the sun has not taken all our energy now he has to call a meeting? I turn to look at my bonded. Like it or not, I have chosen to live under his rule. I am sure he is choosing this time for a reason. I highly doubt he would make a choice that would endanger anyone living here. She stares at me, stunned. It is the first time in a long time that I have snapped at her in such a way. I regret it, but she can feel my hormones and mood just as much as I can.

Together we set out, Sarabi moving slightly ahead of me eager to see what the fuss was about and make sure I would be in no danger. I walk, er well more waddle my way behind her. I have to admit, I am surprised that I end up being one of the first to arrive. Dual colored eyes look to Volterra, before nudging my side gently. I didn't know if anyone else would notice the movement, but I hoped he did. I want him to know. I need him to know.


I listen quietly as the meeting goes on, the kicking and moving of the baby distracting me. Sarabi takes in the information, promising to tell me later. The more the baby moves, the more uncomfortable I become just standing there. I look to Volterra, begging for his attention without a sound. Sweat is beading on my frame. I need to find somewhere to lay down... I do not feel well at all... "Any questions?" It is the pegasus who had been named Sultana who had spoken. I take that as the end, or at least all I can stand. Make sure he sees you standing alone.... Help him, or his bondeds find me.... I need, to lay down. With that I wander off, hoping no one would think me rude. But the way I was feeling, I didn't exactly feel like standing around.

Typi non habent claritatem insitam; est usus legentis in iis qui facit eorum claritatem.
Sarabi Talks

Image Credit

So Vitani arrives, stays for the meeting and then heads off to give birth :P
Starting another thread if anyone chooses to follow her

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

The call echoed from the dunes surrounding the blue jay. He had found his home here for many seasons now, and it seemed during each one, there was some sort of meeting held by various members of the herd. This one, sounded distinct though, as if he’d heard it before. Happily, he followed the sound to the meeting, stretching his dark navy legs out from his previous rest, as well as shaking the sand that began to accumulate out from his wings, doing his best to clear them out of his feathers to appear at least somewhat presentable.

Upon arriving, he found Volterra, the new Sultan. Standing beside him was a mare he still didn’t know the name of, but remembered her vividly, sparking electricity along the water while he tried to gather bones before Kaos’ reveal. He was unsure of what was about to happen, but regardless, he dipped his head in greeting to them both as he remained silent, his bright icy gaze in stark contrast to the black that lined his face in a beak-like fashion watched as others began to gather before Volterra spoke.

Soon enough, the new Sultan was speaking. Sunjata remained silent, but his eyes did glance around the crowd, searching for Mihtal if she were to be somewhere nearby, until the stallion heard his name leave his friend’s lips. His head swiveled back toward the leads, surprise laced in his bones as he tightened his wings across his back with a nod and a small smile. Having a rank here meant that he’d be able to have a reason to explore, and not just for the consistent dead ends of seeking out his beloved sister who went missing.

His attention switched to the electric mare as Volterra gave out her name. Finally, he had a name to the face of the mare that appeared to him as having a mental breakdown that one day. Skepticism grew in his chest at the idea of her being a lead – but perhaps having a bit of crazy with the traditional side of Volterra was a good balance. Sunjata had never quite made it to be a leader of anything, so he wasn’t one to judge. He’d give Ampere a chance.

As she noted what each title was to do, how the rules were changing, and what kind of things were acceptable and what weren’t, Sunjata nodded along. He filed the information away for later, so that way he’d have an idea of what it was he was going to be doing to serve his new home – his new family, as both of his leads had made a point to say. Near the end of it, when Ampere asked if there were any questions, Sunjata paused to allow any other questions before clearing his throat. “Thank you for the opportunity.” His voice was deep, and thickly accented as he spoke to Volterra and Ampere. “I am more than willing to accompany either of you to the other herds if you would prefer the extra set of eyes.” He added in, dipping his head once again – hoping that perhaps he’d be able to get more time with Volterra to learn about what kind of information they sought, aside from Kaos of course.


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

image credits

Sunjata arrives and thanks Vol and Ampere for the promotions, then offers his services to accompany them to the other herds! :D thank you for promoting him! <3

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

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


The ashen boy, highlighted by the maroon hairs of mane and tail, finally discerns the voice cast out like a lifeline beyond treacherous waters. It reels him in by foot, where he settles somewhere, in that conglomerate of people that he might call family. To be lost once more by their feathers, their horns and curious features. He searches for familiar faces, for Valdis or Vezer, Farah or Iskra, and Patrick too. The simple shrieks and spins of Melita, or the accompanying stroll of Pippigrin. Strangely, the boy finds himself one of the very first colts – soon to be accompanied by the other foals.

He tries not to think about her. Mother, pressed into the back of his mind – hovering, while he took his place in the crowd’s bulk. The desire to search for her form itched at his eyes, and with each inhale, filled with the herd’s scents – strained for her particular perfume.

Saoirse shook his head at himself, rattling these feelings that stuck to his ribs – and continued to poison his soul. She was gone, she had left him; but that did not drive away his childish need, his basic wants from resurfacing two fold. Within the Throat’s family he felt incredibly isolated as he stood there, staring soundlessly at their new leader and driving each telltale signs of the ‘toxin’ with the mammoth’s words. There is a moment when he catches the stallion’s crimson gaze, but only for a second, before diving into rules and ranks.

The youth shifted restlessly throughout the meeting, despite how heavy the sense of respect and discipline hung in the air. Twitching feathers along his back, swaying his tail. He charges his gaze to Ampere when she takes the dune stage. Her words are assured, perhaps just as certain as Volterra’s – but he feels the familiar pull of kinship. He wanted to believe they were all kin.

The Sultana appears to end the bulk of the meeting with a question. The boy relinquishes a soft sigh, to dart his attention on Sunjata. A blue and white pegasus he isn't familiar with. But like all the other faces the boy hasn’t quite met, he remains impartial and at odds with their presence.

The stallion grants him a thought however, much like his suggestion – Saoirse begins to speak up after the stallion. Inspired, restless, whatever it was the energy had coiled and caused his lips to form and his voice to rise. However small it first appeared.

“I would like to go, too,” he says without thinking. His cheeks feel hot and red, even though they look quite impartial. Searching for a reasonable explanation. “M… maybe to trade plants, or something…”

His voice flounders, not quite able to communicate that he wants to be useful. That his youth does not prevent him from joining the others; that he must learn, given the trails ahead of them. His eyes are a pair set with determination, and perhaps he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

The Sun God had decreed it, after all – hadn’t he?

- Stick together, train, spy, learn what you can.

Syrena Posts: 207
Dragon's Throat Forger
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.1 hh :: 7 years
Thelxiepeia :: Royal Rougarou :: Water Kyra

Herd meeting. Not that she’s surprised. It’s a thing that happens, and a thing she goes to dutifully, though not necessarily willingly. Thea is far more excited than she is, but the excitement from Thea is somewhat infectious. It drives Syrena’s feet forward with a bit more speed than they might otherwise muster. At least Volterra waited until evening to call them, when it’s no longer brutally hot.

Thea quite literally puts on her best dress, switching to the hydra form she seems to be growing to like. The creature is gray like her bonded, but her eyes stay purple and the fins that line her back are purple as well. She slithers along the ground, part snake but largely just a collection of moving heads. There’s some terrifying about the ten sets of purple eyes that watch the surroundings with interest, though Syrena knows it’s just excitement that moves those eyes so quickly. Thea likes to take everything, and everyone, in.

She settles herself on the outskirts of the group, never one to come too close for fear of accidentally bumping someone else. Besides, she hardly knows anyone here, and she definitely doesn’t know the faces that have gathered other than their Sultan. And it’s not like she’s going to be standing next to him. Thea is anxious next to her, trying to convince her bonded move closer, but Syrena gives her a look that settles the hydra into sulky silence.

She listens to the announcements with some interest, knowing they are important, even if she only kind of cares. It’s a shame Thea doesn’t understand what everyone else is saying, because then she could just let Thea relay the important messages to her. Though her interest perks when he mentions Kaos. She still wonders what the God is up to, wonders what he will promise the citizens in Helovia. Wonders what he can give her. She does not seek answers for the same reason most in Helovia do, but she doesn’t need to tell them that yet. It’s nice to have an excuse to go searching.

Then her name is called, and her ears flick forward, surprised. Her name? And @Zekle. It feels weirdly like home in that moment, crafting with him again. Not that she’d done some in the Falls, but his name had come up and they would have, if their home still stood as such. Her blue eyes try to find him in the crowd, wondering if it felt both wrong and right to him as it does to her. She tries to keep track of the other promotions, but the names mean nothing to her. Even the Sultana’s, but she, at least, speaks next, adding a face to the name.

The Sultana has her own announcements, and Syrena manages to pay enough attention to catch the important bits, particularly regarding her own new role here. She nods at the command to keep the forge’s busy, and makes a note to find Ampere and Volterra after this meeting about what they would like worked on most. She’s too new to know just where to start anyway, but she wants something to do, some purpose other than wallowing around. Even if the work will be hard…and sweaty.

When there’s an appropriate pause in the conversation, she finally says, “I won’t let the Throat down. Just tell me where you’d like me to begin.” And then she falls silent, letting the meeting roll on around her.

les words "chat chat"


let the water take me

image credits

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

Farah Posts: 13
Dragon's Throat Filly
Filly :: Tribrid :: 17hh :: Yearling (Ages in Orangemoon)

The sun was beginning to set for the night, as my ears perk up. A thundering bellow rings throughout the Throat. The voice, clearly the same male voice who Father Sun had named our new Sultan. I had just settled in for the night when the sound reached my ears. Gently I stand, shaking the sand from my coat and wings before setting off to find out what was going on.

It's times like this, I am thankful for inheriting something from my mother. Her coat never got dirty, and it seems my dark coat is hard to get dirty as well. My mother's, um well I guess they are mine now, so my amulets clink softly from where they are tucked under my smaller set of wings.

A few others have arrived, but one sticks out the most. Saoirse, one of the few friends I have made. Quietly I slip through the crowd until I can stand by his side. Gently, I extend one of my larger wings to attempt to nudge Saoirse to let him know I am there. Quietly I listen to the meeting. First our Sultan speaks, and I have to admit I want to feel the way he does. He says we are one big family... But how can we be a big family when I don't know most of those who are supposed to be my family.

He announced another as a lead, a new Sultana. A black and blue mare steps up and takes her place next to him. She to speaks and talks about family. I look to Saoirse, just as another speaks. Offering to go somewhere. Saoirse joins in offering to go somewhere as well. Before I can even think, I find the words coming from my mouth. "I, uh, I want to go too. I want to help." Smooth, real smooth.



Astarot Posts: 81
Dragon's Throat Sun Physician atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17.1 :: 2 (Birdsong) HP: 66.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Zafír :: Common Blue Dragon :: Frost Breath Pare
Astarot & Zafir
The young man and dragon were lounging by the oasis wonder how to tell his father what he wanted in life. How was he supposed to tell his war lord Sultan father he didn't want to follow in his hoof prints? He sighed heavily as he imagined the disappointed look on his face. Surely he wanted his son to be a warrior, to slay enemy besides his father. Zafir swooped down and grabbed his mane trying to pull him up. He sharp eyes picked up his father moments before he called the herd together.

The stallion lurched to his hooves and shook the sand from his bone marked hide. Zafir landed lightly on his back sitting proudly with her tail curled over her front paws. The duo made their way towards his father wondering why he was calling a meeting. It doesn't take much searching to find the Indomitable standing proudly on a dune. Vadir was sitting on his back looking over the crowd. Zafir dipped her head to the golden queen before watching the red male circling above.

Much to his credit Volterra dove head first into the meeting. He listened idly to the prattle of greeting the herd and talking about the weather. His focus sharpened when it turned to rule changes. He nodded along with his father. It was foolish to only allow certain people to accept new members, especially when their ranks were so thin. The stallion didn't really care about a prize from bringing new people home; giving a lost soul a place to live was reward enough. His head kept bobbing along with the words of equality. He found it foolish to label someone better just because they had wings, horns, or the lack of. When he switched to talking about visitors and Kaos the stud spaced out a bit until he turned the topic again.

He agreed that the higher ranks were slacking. When was the last time he saw anyone crafting or being sneaky? It was a great idea to work on that by shifting the ranks every year if someone was being lazy. His head lifted and ears pricked curiously as the ebony man turned to filling ranks. His eyes sought out the people he called, he mostly just knew names, but surely they would nod or say something as they were called upon. Syrena turned out to be an odd grey colored mare with fins behind her ears. He nodded to her smiling warmly. He already knew the healers his father called upon and he looked around dumbly when he said another name.

Zafir cried out her pure joy, and it took the dunskin a second to realize it was his name the Sultan had called out. Scarlet and sapphire eyes widened in surprise. How had he known?! A sunshine bright smile slide over his face as he gazed up at his father. His lips moved silently, 'Thank you Apa.' He floated in a blissful state of relief. He had know idea how his father had known his dreams, but he did. His body tingled as she nodded at each newly promoted member.

His attention turned to the new Sultana and he grinned brightly at the small lightning marked mare. She spoke reaffirming his father and adding her own ideas as well. The two seemed to agree and work well together. Zafir watched the mare quietly thinking. "Sultan, Sultana," He dipped his head warmly to each and stepped forward. "I have friends within the Basin, and I volunteer to travel north and speak with them." He smiled feeling useful for the first time in his life. "I also propse we hold a healer meeting to take stock of our supplies. If that is okay with Miss Tae and Miss Najya?" He glanced at the two healers smiling his bone marked head tilted questioningly.

Words;; 643
OOC/Tags;; @Volterra @Ampere @Tae @Najya Astarot would like permission to go to the Basin and to call a healer meeting.
[Image: silver_dreamer_mist_trans_tag_by_are_we_...a8y6wy.png]

Ilios Posts: 200
Dragon's Throat Informant atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 6
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 15 :: 4 (Frostfall) HP: 66.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Isabella :: Common Rougarou :: Flame Parelia
Scars heal, glory fades
Pain hurts, but only for a minute
'Cause the chicks dig it
Ilios and Isabella had been wondering the edge of the Throat checking the coasts on hoof. With so many foals in the herd he was worried about predators entering the Throat. Silver and gold eyes gazed over the landscape looking any kind of print or flicker of movement. Isabella turned her silver wolf head up towards the horizon her ears pricked nose quivering. 'What do you smell?' She didn't answer him just took off walking. Rolling his eyes the hybrid followed after her slowly. Volterra's call caught their ears and they picked up the pace moving at a smooth lope.

'How did you know?' She huffed a wolf laugh before replying, 'Excited scent.' He chuckled softly, 'Makes sense.' It didn't take them long to reach the gathering. A few others were gathered below the large black stallion. He cast his eyes over them and walked to stand beside Ampere. She was one of the first he had ever spoken to in the Throat, besides Gaucho. His heart clenched at the thought of the Wildfire. He glanced at Ampere and offered her a warm smile. He figured the Fire's death had been very hard on her. He knew they had had children together and could only imagine how she felt without him.

Volterra started to speak and he found himself agreeing with everything he had to say. He smiled at each promoted horse nodding to them warmly. He was happy for them, they were all deserving, to his knowledge anyway. Then his name was dropped from the Sultan's mouth and his ears pricked. Isabella looked up from her spot beside Ilios. He had been promoted to a rank he had never thought of taking before. He bowed his head deeply to the other stallion.

Before he could voice his thanks the male continued welcoming Ampere and the Sultana. He turned and beamed at the lightning marked mare. "Congratulations Ampere." He whispered as she made her way passed him to stand above the herd. He listened to her words as well taking them all to heart. Silver eyes tried to meet her blue gaze as she gave the rules for his rank. He nodded hoping she saw it and understood he wouldn't betray her trust. When she was done speaking the other that held his rank Sunjata spoke up. He listened to his idea of traveling with the leaders then offered his own idea. "Thank you both for the position, I wont fail." He paused to look at everyone else gathered, "If anyone has any , or knowledge of, items that were stolen please come and see me, or Sunjata." He glanced at the stallion, hoping he hadn't stepped over any boundaries he wasn't aware of. Satisfied he fell silent and watched the herd his heart swelling. Isabella wagged her silver tail and leaned against her brother's leg.

Words;; 475
OOC/Tags;; @Volterra @Ampere @Sunjata He wants anyone that knows of any items that have been stolen to come see him! Feel free to pm me or tag me in a post! <3

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You must be true to your heart..
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Melita Posts: 35
Dragon's Throat Filly
Filly :: Hybrid :: 16 :: Newborn - Birdsong
Sila :: Plain Zephyr :: Wakiya Heather


The world was suddenly very daunting.

She’d stayed within the Throat, except for a slight detour between the thistles and meadows, played amongst her brethren, found new friends beside her twin, chanced for moments of glory and absolute silliness without a single thought. But she’d never truly realized just how wide, just how vast, just how large her homeland was, how many inhabitants she didn’t know, and how ignorant she’d always been – and as she stumbled along, haunted and drawn by the ringing tones of creatures she’d never seen, her mouth dropped, jaw unhinged, eyes widened, and she stopped moving abruptly.

Her first notion was to find mother and Clementine, seek them out from all the endless spiraling shadows, the bigger beasts, the unknown soldiers, the strange Sultans and Sultanas – but amidst the blur of colors, hues, and cretins, she was thoroughly lost, incapable of seeing them past rugged shoulders and undulating muscles. Panic suddenly settled in her heart, and she grasped for anyone, anything, remotely familiar, trying not to cry from the impact of the unfamiliar, head shifting right to left, left to right, gaze catching on fragments of shadows, shifting into them to regain her balance, her fortitude, the little speckles of might that had always pulsed, maddeningly so, from the depths of her soul. This isn’t you, she said to herself, blotting out all the phrases careening around the atmosphere (she couldn’t possibly comprehend what they meant anyway), mulling over her reactions to everything else in the world – she hadn’t shed a tear when she careened and fell down a dune, she hadn’t grown molten and weary when her sister didn’t join her in the oasis.

She sniffled, she pondered, and she heaved one massive breath, fortifying a puff to her chest, a slant of audacity through her membrane (you’re better than this, and it was true – she was better than a sniveling child), and wandered forward, stare catching back over the looming adults and the riotous throng. Her apprehension turned to perusal and study, attempting to confirm or deny the status of the realm – who ruled, who reigned, and who set the jurisdiction for their actions (and did they care if tiny girls pretended to be sea monsters?). Watching, waiting, struggling to find a place where she could view everything and anything (and not be swallowed by the bustling crowd), she glanced over to see the ivory and red colt, bounding over to him quickly, swiftly, unleashing her wings for a moment so she had enough space – but saying nothing, too uncertain, too unsure. Then, comforted by a face she recognized, her examination persisted, eyes dragging over the colossal, sable brute, but he talked a lot and her head began to spin, then to the electric lady, who seemed to sizzle, seemed to spark (and that in itself was awe-inspiring), ensuing a measure of her youthful tenacity as it followed the sanctions with a joyful, exuberant call. “I can help!” She sprouted and shouted, full of broad smiles and hope, not realizing, not grasping, that there was far little she could provide to a clan full of strength (but willing, so willing, to try).


Iskra Posts: 79
Dragon's Throat Colt
Colt :: Pegasus :: 17 :: 1 year
Castiel :: Royal Humpback Leviathan :: Tidal Wave Blu
When there's madness, when there's poison in your head
When the sadness leaves you broken in your bed
He was old enough now to both understand the sound that signaled a herd meeting, and to take upon himself the duty of attending. There wasn't much foals could do for a herd besides grow and come to learn its values, and even with that Iskra had a rather lackadaisical approach, much more involved with his own games and routines of play. Still, Iskra paused in his current adventure (chasing a horny toad across the rocks), half grown tail wiggling at his rump with curiosity as an ear flicked at the call.

"Weeeelp, there's another one," the colt complain-sighed to Squishy, the dutiful golem bumbling along at his side. "C'mon, we don't wanna be late!" With that Iskra kicked up his heels and took off, tearing across the desert landscape - the golem trudged on at normal pace.

As he approached, some had already gathered, and Iskra threw a greeting to the foals he knew. "Hi Saoirse!", yet he's looking for the illuminating halo of Matheo, or the unmistakable laughter of his older brother. His mother catches his eye, but he doesn't want to endure any lectures today, so he keeps the crowd between them. Instead Iskra sidles up besides Melita, nudging her in a friendly gesture. "Hiya Mel, how goes it?" He always enjoyed being around she or her sister, they had a pleasant aroma, and personalities to match.

As the rest of the herd amassed they quieted down for the announcements. Iskra schooled himself into the best posture and appearance of attentiveness he could manage, though truthfully his mind was wandering, frolicking among his imagination and desires, non of which included this. He was happy to talk with his friends of course, and mingle with his family, but this was dull. One word however caught his attention, his mother's name. His head snapped around, teal gaze skirting the gathering as he watched the blue mare move forward to stand beside the Sultan, freshly crowned. His mouth gaped slightly, where it continued to hang as she nonchalantly addressed the herd. After all, Iskra had never know Ampere before everything went to hell. All he knew was she could barely manage herself, much less a herd, and while she had been improving recently, he couldn't shake those early memories of loneliness and loss. He didn't hold it against her, exactly- he knew she needed help, something he tried his best to offer, but was she really... a Sultana? It felt like just last season he was standing shoulder to shoulder with Matheo as his mom, Aithniel, rose up.

Life was weird.
I will hold you in the depths of your despair
And it's all in the name of love

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

Mathèo Posts: 65
Dragon's Throat Colt
Stallion :: Tribrid :: 17.2 :: 3 seasons
Delphi :: Common Rougarou :: Flame Odd

"Whoa" Thèo breathed in Iskra's ear, appearing at his brother's side silently. He didn't want to draw attention to himself - his mother had basically just left the herd, even if it was the Sun God who told her to go - and he thought that maybe some would be angry with him for it. And he was late. So as quickly and quietly as he could, he spotted his sparking-counterpart and slunk towards him, wings folded tightly against his pale flanks.  "Your Ma is Sultana now. Congratulations?" His voice was bright with a smile, even though he continued to whisper.  "Guess you're a prince now, huh." Or maybe Iskra had always been a prince. Maybe son's of Gaucho just got that title. Or maybe it didn't even matter anymore.

"I've got something to show you." He continued, nosing towards where he was clearly hiding something beneath a wing.  "Do we have to stay? Is there more they're going to tell us about?"

Image Credits

@Iskra for mentions

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

She knows there have been meetings that she has missed, she’s heard mention of them when she has returned to the Throat, but this time Vastra is actually on the island when the call rings out. Curiosity, more than anything, is what encourages her to abandon her hunt and follow those who are flocking towards the sound. She recognizes the tall black stallion standing at the head of the group, facing them all, and a few of the others that have gathered.

But although she recognizes some of those here, and though she hears the word of the blue mare saying that they are family, Vastra doesn’t feel like that. Her family isn’t here - not yet, but she does not expect them to arrive. Everyone else that stands in this meeting are just familiar strangers, some of whom she knows and most of whom she doesn’t. Her brown eyes look over them all as she stands near the back of the crowd - feeling entirely separate from all of them and, as she gets older, she’s not sure how she feels about being separate. Horses, she has learned, tended to enjoy living in herds - it provided safety and easy socialization. Much like the schools of fish or prides of lions that she has watched, horses seem to do better together.

So why didn’t she feel like a part of the herd? If they are all a family, why isn’t she a part of it?

The yearling girl is certainly present and listening, but her mind also drifts and considers this problem - and considers what she might do to correct it. The loud colts she knows are here and she could go over to them, could try to be loud herself, but her hooves don’t move. She stays where she is and tries to form a plan.

Current markings: brown stripes resembling those of a western shovel-nosed snake

the embers of a fire still burning as they die
stay bright to keep us side by side

Pippigrin Posts: 77
Dragon's Throat Gladiator atk: 6.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 10hh :: Two HP: 68 | Buff: NOVICE
Brandybuck :: Wolverine :: None Neverrmind

- Manticore knife

ippigrin was not accustomed to meetings or gatherings other than the kind adults engaged in with a hearty fire, alcohol and song. The gathering below looked as still and as sombre as his great-great-grand-sires funeral, though he couldn't help but swoop down to investigate.
Landing with a slight tumble, not too far from where the Sultan and newly crowned Sultana stood, Pippigrin gave a vibrant coo of hullo to those stood wide-eyed looking back. Folding his wings and scooting under the belly of the sultan, and speaking a humble "'scuse me Mr. Volterra" (because it would be rude to cut directly in front of him), Pippigrin gave a soft sigh and picked a path to descend the dune, down to join one of the only other familiar face's he recognised; that of Mathèo.

"Hi Math!"
He whispered, wings beating with excitement as he approached the boy who although having met him once, and briefly at that, still considered him a great friend. The hoobit scooted close to the goose coloured boy, who despite his young age already towered in height above Pip. "There's elevensies* of people here" he commented at the smallest of whispers, soon looking to the friend Theo had chosen to stand with; one referred to by Theo as a 'prince'.

Immediately, Pip became intimidated by the presence he stood under. Theo's friend was a prince!? Sheepishly smiling towards the bronze pegasus of blues and gold that stood to Theo's other side, Pippigrin once again felt lesser. Unworthy.
"'scuse me" He bleated, mouth wobbling ever-so-slightly as he turned tail and waddled to the back of the crowd. Only then did he notice another friend; Saoirse. He was nice! and not a fancy prince!

Pippigrin whispered lowly under the legs of those gathered, a grin soon befalling his maw.
Of course, he paid absolutely no attention to the meeting; he just came to see those who had come to pay attention.

*Hobbits like Pippigrin cannot count past four; any more than four is eleven, and a great number is an elevensie which means a thousand
@Mathèo @Iskra @Volterra @Saoirse  for mentions!
ISHY of thq, art; araxel.

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 -

A lot like the weather, there were other things now, too, that seemed to change with the seasons as they turned. Not having missed a meeting in years, it was quite apparent that they were being called by another mare, another stallion. The winds blowing in the Throat could't make up its mind. Perhaps, in a way, it was caused by the hue of Kaos, overcasting their land like a roundabout shadow. Perhaps it truly was by the ruling of their God... or them, mortals; just managing to flicker like candlelight. That was how she experienced it. But with every change in their ranks, the contrast between those changes faded. Even when Ampere was called out as the new Sultana -- unlike when Maren came to the Dragon's Throat, many years ago, in her eyes it wasn't so different anymore. Maybe it was the age talking, time spend baking in the heat, maybe plain lack of insight in their political matters. But then... she had been looking down from her Diviner's chair for so long without blinking. She liked to think that she wasn't an idiot, and like with looking straight into the sun for too long, as much as she had wanted to reach the beyond, perhaps she had been blinding herself instead; causing all lines to feather into each other and blur. Was losing grip on the whole herd rank thing and perhaps more than that.

She wasn't sure what that meant, but at that moment Ampere called her name and she found herself nodding in acknowledgement of being a mediator. It was a nice word, though vague. It made the waters of her mind feel quite restless.

"Visitors who approach the herd are to be treated with caution, but not outright hostility unless they display it first - Otherwise, remain civil." She didn't remember Gaucho's reign as particularly racist, just straightforward and protective. She nodded along, appreciative of the notion, under the impression that she was perfectly civil (if anything; to the point) at all times. Then again, Maren's politeness only reached as far as her wings could stretch -- and maybe her eyes could see, figuratively (which we just decided wasn't.

"Congratulations Ampere and everyone else with their new positions. I do have some points I wish to discuss, too. Before Aithniel left she told me about the need for re-stabilizing our coasts. Ever since the landbridge was formed they have been slowly eroding. I think it would be wise for the crafters to investigate this matter further, and ask the God of the Sun for his guidance." She looked around for Cera, realizing she had no idea anymore who else it was that forged their metals these days. She remembered being one of the few protesting the demolishing of the landbridge, many years ago. Despite her first protests, it had been how the woman-captain that she had found herself being these days was born. It made it so that she couldn't look back to it with as much bitterness as it perhaps deserved. Then again, if Volterra truly believed in equality, maybe it was time to build a new bridge. It isn't quite a temple, though, such projects didn't need her meddling. Not this time. "Secondly, a stallion named Toulouse tried to infiltrate our land a few seasons ago. I do not know what his intentions were, besides deceiving me, but perhaps it would be good to learn more about this stallion and his ulterior motives. I personally do not particularly like him... " she muttered quite bitterly before getting to the point. "But -- objectively, of course," she scraped her throat. "-- I would like to advice the Sultan and Sultana to think about marking his presence as... undesirable nonetheless. He wears himself elegantly, is light colored and seems to wear quite the fashionable, green scarves." It was a rather short description. If they would want it so, she would clarify further later. "I'm not an artisan or informant, but feel free to approach me if you wish to know more about either of these things."

This is for talking
by yewrezz

Sorry for the lack of ... reaction? >>
Mentions and talks to @Ampere @Volterra about Aith's plan to re-stabilize the throat coast and Toulouse's attempt to infiltrate a few seasons ago
Please tag me 

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

Najya didn’t make a habit of being late to meetings, but she hadn’t accounted for just how much of her day would be spent wrangling her adventurous children.  It seemed as soon as they learned to walk, they were running, always off on some adventure and Najya wasn’t quite sure when she last had a full night of sleep.  She’d sent A’mal off in search of Melita when she did her best to coax Clementine away from a cocoon she’d found this morning and was intent on watching until it hatched into a butterfly.

”Found her, with herd!” A’mal announced, via their bond - which caused Najya to feel both a profound sense of relief as well as abject panic since she was clearly missing something important.  ”Darling, I promise the butterfly won’t have emerged by this afternoon, but we need to find your sister and meet the rest of the herd,” the mare muttered to her daughter, doing her best to contain her exasperation as A’mal circled the meeting from above - an indication to any who were watching that the little physician would be along shortly.

The meeting was already in progress when Najya joined them, flanked by the little orange and flaxen filly who bounced along in her shadow.  She breathed an audible sigh of relief when she spotted Melita in the crowd, who seemed to have immersed herself into herd politics already.  Najya listened as Volterra addressed the herd, and her curved ears pricked when Ampere was named their new Sultana since Aithniel had been called away.  A smile flickered across Najya’s lips at the familiar name and she looked to the blue mare as she, too, addressed the herd.  When Ampere had finished her address, Najya dipped her head before offering, “Congratulations, Ampere.”

Then the little mare turns to Astarot - the newly named alchemist. “I think a meeting would be appropriate, Astarot,” Najya offered, pleased to see him taking such initiative.  “I’d be happy to speak with you after this meeting. I recently had a few wonderful volunteers who helped me in restoring some of our medicinal reserves, but maybe we could arrange some gathering expeditions outside the Throat? Better yet, young Patrick expressed that healers from both the Edge in the Basin were interested in exchanging herbs and knowledge. Perhaps we could organize trade with the other herds - even time it with the diplomatic visits - and if you already know some in the Basin that should make that easier.  All of this seems to fit in line with the Herd’s overall goals,” she noted, her gaze flicking to Ampere and Volterra.  Najya was pleased to have one so young and eager among the ranks - especially with the threat of Kaos ever looming. She knew that by pooling their resources they’d certainly be able to ensure that the the Throat was well prepared for whatever was to come.

Maren’s mention of reinforcing the coast certainly catches the little mare’s attention.  It was something she hadn’t given much thought until this point, but if it was something worth consulting the Sun over, perhaps it was something she ought to be paying more attention to.  If it was something that threatened the whole island, it would take more than the crafters to shore up the island.  But for the time being, Najya kept her thoughts to herself and mentally committed herself to help where she could when the time came.

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Sorry - been away! Back now. :D


Please tag NAJYA in all replies. 
Force & magic are permitted, but please check before inflicting serious injury.
Thank you!
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Mihtal Posts: 26
Dragon's Throat Mare atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 3.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.0 :: 8 years HP: 56.0 | Buff: Novice
I close my eyes as soon as I hear the thundering call.

I should have strayed father away— I lament to myself, wishing that the summer’s heat had not driven me to a patch of shrubbery so close to the Sultan’s choice of meeting place, and wishing altogether (not for the first time, and far from the last) that I could disappear completely. I stifle a groan, but something of a moaning sigh still manages to leak slowly from my lips, my warm breath rustling the sand around my face and nostrils. Just stay, a voice tempts in the not-so-back of my mind, who will really notice if you don’t show up? The words seem to linger in my consciousness, haunting.

Truly, would anyone notice if I ignored the summons? Would anyone notice if I turned my face the other way, towards the ocean, and wandered into its depths without looking back? Would anyone notice if I were to lie here, and not get up? There is something morbidly romantic about the idea of simply fading out of existence. It seems so effortless, so easy—like releasing a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

(Why do I cling to that breath so?)

Furrowing my brow and puckering my lips, flinching as though someone has personally tortured me, I finally drag myself to my feet. The Throat’s red sand clings stubbornly to the curves of my willowy body, but I don’t bother to shake it off. Like a stray dog, I wander into the fringes of the herd meeting, keeping my head low and my ears turned back.

The recently-selected Sultan—I haven’t the energy to recall his name—addresses his congregation with many words, appointing names I don’t recognize and instructing changes I hadn’t even known were in place.

However, there is a flicker of life in my expression when the names Sunjata and Najya are proclaimed, acknowledgement causing me to lift my eyes in search of them, if only to offer my silent (wordless, small) congratulations. The winged stallion is not hard to find (so bright is he), and I discover that the russet mare is not alone—the babe at her side leaves twisting, black scars to fester across my broken mind—and with barely a glance to each of them, I lower my head again, leaning backwards and towards the safety of solitude.

notes; Mentions @Sunjata and @Najya but doesn't interact with anyone.
Run away—
run away if you can’t speak
Turn a page on a world that you don’t need

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please tag Mihtal in all replies!
magic & force are permitted.

Arakh Posts: 77
Dragon's Throat Stallion atk: 5 | def: 8 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 17'2hh :: 2 HP: 66.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Yearlinghood brings a sudden growth spurt for the grullo colt, increasing his height and thickening his bulk. It is already evident that he will eclipse his dam's size and rise to something closer to his father, something that pleases him no end.

He hasn't been doing a great deal around the herd, still mourning his mother and trying desperately to settle in. When the trumpeting meeting call resounds through his ears, he's in two minds whether to bother attending at all, but his conscience and desire to make a good impression eventually gets the better of him. Leaping easily into the sky, Arakh flies swiftly towards the gathering, landing near the back with a rumbled grunt and a splatter of sand. He painstakingly folds his wings and listens, ears pricking as ranks are given out and rules reiterated. The ranks hold little interest yet, given that he's too young to hold one, but he can't help but notice that the warriors aren't mentioned. Are they perhaps just waiting for a capable fighter to jostle their ranks?

A new Sultana is announced, the blue woman who he'd met as a newborn, and he huffs his approval at the decision. Save for that, the grullo makes no sound as he stands and watches, feeling a lurch of concern as he realises his twin isn't there. Worried, the yearling glances warily around, praying that Esinakh will suddenly appear.

lines | color & coding


Iskra Posts: 79
Dragon's Throat Colt
Colt :: Pegasus :: 17 :: 1 year
Castiel :: Royal Humpback Leviathan :: Tidal Wave Blu
When there's madness, when there's poison in your head
When the sadness leaves you broken in your bed
A single word slid past Iskra's ears, but it carried so much more significance than could ever be apparent just listening to it the once. First there was the history of that single, simple word. The moments built upon its usage, the friendship and the memories layered upon it. Then there was the presence that spoke it, something warm and welcome, someone meaningful to the ears listening. Lastly there was the way it was spoken (and the fact it was spoken at all). It tickled Iskra's ear as the breath that carried it blew across his feathers and his forelock, and the tone, so subtle and sneaky, that it surprised the boy to whom it was whispered.

Iskra's feathers partially lifted and his head turned instantly, a teal eye beholding the sunlit brother at his side. A giggle started to roar from his chest, but he sucked it back in and stifled it with a massive grin and a twinkle in his gaze. "There you are Matty!" he exhaled just as softly to his friend, honest relief in his features - the angelic colt was not one to miss out on eventful moments, and he was often first to arrive, so Iskra had started to worry.

At Matheo's congratulations Iskra wasn't sure how to respond. First of all, his mother's title and accomplishments (whatever they were) were not things he had participated in, or held any part of it, so it was awkward to be congratulated for them, for her. He supposed it was a momentous event and he ought to be proud of her, but he's still doubtful, so he says nothing. Thankfully Matheo goes on, labeling him as a prince. At this, Iskra's 'brows knit in confusion. "Am I?" he asks, as always looking to Matheo, who always seems to know everything, for confirmation. He doesn't really like the sound of it, it sounds like responsibilities and weird friendships, and he'd rather not. "So you were a prince then when your mom was!?" Iskra's 'brows lift with wonder, never having known all this time. Then, deftly, he decides the rules of prince-dom, "Then we're both princes," and he seals it with a reaffirming nod.

Near the end of this a strange fellow slithers in-between their talk. He has a funny way of speaking, and Iskra doesn't remember seeing the colt before, but he knows Matheo (everyone does, Iskra has begun to realize). Iskra is too stunned, staring at the strange boy, unable to speak before he slinks off again. He's short, like a colt, but he's still taller than them, and he doesn't have the half grown mane and tail, or the scrawny body like they do. Iskra's about to ask Matheo for clarification, but then his brother is inviting him on an adventure, and that's way more important.

"What is it!?" Iskra asks, intrigued, his body leaning closer, eyes widening with wonder. He shakes his head at the question, "I don't think so, it'd be boring anyway. You know how these go..." His teal gaze darts around and spots an escape route. "C'mon, let's go!" Surely they'd be yelled at if they are noticed departing, so they do need some stealth, which is why Iskra's kept his voice down (best he can) this whole time.
I will hold you in the depths of your despair
And it's all in the name of love

@Mathèo wanna break off into a new thread?

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

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
"Any existence deprived of freedom is a kind of death" -- Michel Aoun

Ampere had steeled herself for rebuke. She had stiffened for outrage. She had tensed for rebellion. Afterall, she had failed them once before hadn't she? Or were none of them around then to even remember; gods was she truly that old now?

No, she thinks, recognizing some of her brothers and sisters in the sand as being stalwart, here since she could remember. Yet she can't help but notice too, how many of them are strangers to her, fresh faces in a crowd that isn't quite so crowded. She wondered, in mild shock, if she'd really been 'asleep' for so long as to be blind to such a steady erosion. Like the edges of their landscape crumbling into the sea, so it felt like the empire of old had burned out and now its ashes scattered.

Fire give new, Kygo gently reminded her, his beady eyes watching the plethora of foals slipping among the adults, their half-grown tails all a-waggle. Not for the first time Ampere wondered how many of them bore Gaucho's blood; not out of jealousy, not any more, but rather to see pieces of him surviving, thriving. She smiled faintly.

Sunjata's voice drew her attention back to the gathering at hand, surprisingly pleasant and lacking in critcism. As the blue of her eyes swung back towards him, she just caught the swollen frame of Vitani waddling away, and Ampere gave her a knowing look. As Ampere's lips moved to answer, young Saoirse boldly spoke up, and then Syrena, Farah, Astarot, Ilios, even little Melita. With each voice joining in, Ampere's grin broadened, and the edge of her gaze softened until it threatened to tear. Here was the desert herd, beating with a fervor like never before, alive with a fire stoked even after all the turmoil. The outpouring of love and commitment for the herd was overwhelming, and Ampere felt humbled beneath its wash, subjected merely to a bowed head in response to them.

The moment was broken by a peculiar fellow - a short, careless sort of horse weaving between Volterra's legs. Ampere's head gave a jolt at the sight, the whites of her eyes showing uncertainty as she regarded the stranger brother, but he slipped away into the cloud, mixing up with the foals. She wasn't overly fond of such a disregard for their goings on, but if Volterra knew him she'd leave him to bring it up, after all it was his body that was affronted, and she was in far too good a mood with everyone else to sour now.

Instead Ampere's ears turned towards Maren, always a happy sight, though she brought troubling news indeed. Ampere's lips tightened into that line that meant she wasn't happy, but her feathers remained quiet and her tail was still as she chewed on the advice while Najya gave her own.

When it seemed everyone had spoken their piece, Ampere lifted her head to respond. "Thank you, all of you, for the heart you've so clearly poured into this herd. The Sun's light shines on all of us, and his fire clearly burns in each of us. With grit and determination, we will thrive once more." She nods towards them all again, her lop-sided grin worn on her lightning-marked side.

"If you're ranked, I encourage you to get together with your fellows after this meeting to get to know each other and discuss ideas. We'll be appointing heads to the ranks once clear candidates have made themselves known."

"For those that offered your aid in traveling to the other herds, I thank you. Your support and your earnest is immeasurable. We must provide a strong front for our neighbors, but not appear hostile with our numbers either, so it would be best for only some of the ranked to accompany us. For those that spoke up, we'll be in touch with you before departure. Crafters and healers, if you've any items to trade, please bring them with you." Ampere's gaze drifted towards Saoirse and Melita, giving them a wink. Grateful as she was for their enthusiasm, such a trip was not fit for babes. Besides, they had to guard the home. "For the rest of you, foals included, we've plenty of recruiting needs to keep us all more than busy. Just remember not to travel alone."

"Warriors, Informants- heed Maren's warning of Toulouse and learn his description well. He's caused us no harm yet, but we should be proactive about our defenses. See what else we might learn of him and his motives, he may be an agent of Kaos."

"Crafters, please see that everyone in need of a key receives one- the ranked and the flightless. We should also convene after to address Maren's concerns for our borderlands, a project which may require her and the Sun's assistance." Ampere wasn't sure how helpful the Sun could be with Kaos leering around them somewhere, but at least a plan would be good to have, because she'd noticed the wear as well.

Ampere looked to Volterra for any input before releasing the herd to tackle all their assignments. They had work to do, all of them, and she was eager to set to it.

Credits: Image by Tabini
Coding by Tamme

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