| Aurora Basin Phantom atk: 7.5 | def: 10 | dam: 2.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16 hh :: 8 yrs HP: 60.0 | Buff: NOVICE |
| Glo |
The rain was a persistent, relentless thing, driving into the hillside with such force it seemed determined to wash them altogether from the cliffside. Already Roland was soaked to the core. His hair clung to his hide, slicked against his neck and over his eyes, and the chill of a northern wind raked against his sides without remorse. He gave his head a shake as he drew near to the couple, his hooves stumbling gracelessly over the worn stones. Despite the darkness that swarmed around them, he offered primarily a small, if not distracted smile, and a promise of safety just over the hill. Yet, as he swept around their side, he was met with sudden, unexpected hostility. The mottled stallion lashed out towards him, a flash of angry eyes in the dim light of evening, the venom in his voice akin to the rumbling of thunder overhead. Roland jerked back immediately, hooves scrabbling for traction on the wet path as he blinked the rainwater from his eyelashes in momentary shock.
An apology was waiting on his lips, ready to slip forth, but an interruption came in the form of a clatter of rocks behind him, a shadow nearing that left any atonement long forgotten. The Phantom’s every nerve was on edge, singing with tension, and the enmity he had been met with only served to aggravate his uneasiness, a growing sense of urgency driving him on. He took a step back, minding the placement of his feet to avoid losing his footing entirely as he studied the pair through the downpour. They must have been through a great number of trials, marked and scarred as they were. A little aggression could easily be forgiven, considering their circumstances. From the looks of it, their journey so far had not awarded them much kindness.
Darkness gathered round as their party grew. A deep voice thundered from overhead, throwing casual commentary into the mix, and Roland craned his head around to spy through the murk of night the gilded form of Rikyn, making his way down the treacherous slope. He could sense already the distrust growing, seething, in the quivering form of the wounded mare and her protective counterpart. As the young Lord drew near, Roland removed himself from their immediate vicinity to allow them space to breathe.
Another shadow crested the hill then, one more answer to the call for aid. Relief flooded Roland’s chest as he recognized the elegant form, and he let out a heavy exhale as he watched Lena descend hastily towards them. A flicker of a smile was aimed in his direction before her focus was turned upon the winged pair struggling their way up the incline. Roland took a step forwards, his wary gaze affixed to the painted stallion lest he lash out with the same hostility as he had to the Phantom himself. Instead, the suspicious glare softened, his ire receded, and amiability replaced the defensive posturing as Lena drew close with a murmured, melodious greeting. No ears pinned in her direction, no lips curled, and so Roland allowed himself to relax. He withdrew again, casting his gaze around their congregation. The trees bent and swayed against the gale, sheets of rain driving into sheer rock. Distant flashes of lightning illuminated the sky like pinpricks of pale flame, there and gone again in the blink of an eye. The rumble of thunder was a whisper in comparison to the rush of wind and water, the chorus of voices and commotion orbiting around the winged pair until all, at last, fell silent.
Roland was no stranger to hearing Lena’s voice; in joy and rapture, in fear and desperation, a song was sewn for every occasion. Still, he never ceased to be quieted, awed, by their harmony. Mellifluous and gentle, her anthems were everything the howling winds and driving rain was not. It was almost easy to forget the icy water that slid down Roland’s sides, and the forks of electricity that cut through gloam and shadow flared unseen in the distance as he listened.
There was a renewed energy, a vitality in the dark gaze of the tall, winged stallion as her song ceased, a wonder in his voice when he spoke. Roland smiled, glancing at the smaller mare to ensure that she had also been rejuvenated by the Songbird’s magic. He would have reached out to Lena, a gentle touch to show his affection, his respect, but he had not yet forgotten of the storm raging overhead. Angling a look back to the rest that had gathered, he gestured then with a northward nod of his head, towards the crest of the hill. “Come, we should not hesitate any longer,” he called above the vicious winds. Rather than carving a path ahead, he held back, making his way further down the jagged path to allow the rest of them ample room to ascend first. He would take the rear, ensure they made it up safely and all accounted for, or perhaps serve as a barrier to any who might lose their footing on the rain soaked stones.
@Toulouse
Push your luck if it makes you a promise
that turns con men honest.
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[O] [WELCOME!] thieves landing [HEALER]
