the Rift


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Eve Posts: 7
Aurora Basin Mare
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.2hh :: 2 yrs [frostfall]
Jeanne
#1



EVE
curiosity killed the cat

Breathe.


Birdsong stirred the girl from slumber, a cacophony of melodic screeches that seemed to her muddled mind to be quite sudden. She stretched out on the forest floor, kicking her hind legs a bit and rolling to lay upright, blinking dazedly in the bright mid-afternoon sunlight. For a moment, the blurry, soft gold-orange washed pleasantly across the trees that surrounded her on all sides tricked her into thinking that she was home; for a moment, she forgot what she had done. A moment for her vision to right itself, and she realized that she was no longer in the Wildwood – these trees, compared to the behemoths of her youth, were short and spindly and quite green and plain, lacking the ethereal peach glow and rich, warm autumn hues that she had grown accustomed to. For all their shortcomings, they brought a broad grin to her face, and she didn’t even bother to repress a series of manic giggles, her entire body twitching and squirming with glee. She was free!


Eve stumbled to her hooves, shaking and tottering like a newborn standing for the first time; her legs felt dull and fuzzy, covered in the crawling sensation that came with too much pressure on them for too long. Her wings flared out to keep her balance, flailing primaries snapping a few small twigs from the branches. For a moment, she felt lightheaded and cramped, stomach lurching, but, thankfully, the sensation passed quickly. She tucked her wings to her side, and, with another euphoric giggle, gave her surroundings a quick once-over. She was in the middle of a forest of some sort. That was not especially odd, though this forest was nothing like the Wildwood. In the Wildwood, trees grew so high that you couldn’t even see their tops, and the entire forest seemed to be perpetually washed in creams and golds, as timeless and impossibly beautiful as most of the creatures that inhabited it. It would move around, from time to time, but the Wildwood never really aged or changed. It was ephemeral and fickle and ancient all at once, and the days dribbled by in a sticky amber haze, each and every one practically identical to all the ones that came before it. Creatures wild and big as the sky would wander by, gods and monsters side-by-side among great, knotted roots; the air hummed with their magicks, thick and suffocating if you thought too hard about it. She’d learned quickly that the secret to the Wildlings was their carelessness – they never thought about much of anything. Here, the air was not so high-strung, as in the moments before lightning struck, but it was every bit as oppressive. The air felt quiet and stagnant. She couldn’t feel any magick at all.


Lulled into absentmindedness, she set forth to wander with no particular destination in mind. It wasn’t as though she had the faintest notion of where she was, and it didn’t seem that anyone was around to ask, and, in all honesty, she hadn’t left her home behind forever with the intent to squander precious time to explore. Any misgivings she might have had – or fear of leaving, or homesickness, or worry for her mother – were left behind in the Wildwood. Now was the time to search for what she’d been seeking her entire life, whatever that happened to be.


The little mare titled her head, still grinning foolishly. Well, perhaps finding her purpose was a bit much to bite off immediately; she’d have to settle for finding her way out of the woods, for now. (She wanted to see more than trees for once, new and exciting as these spindly little mimicries were. She wanted to see deserts and waterfalls and mountains and oceans and swamps and rivers and gardens and plains and absolutely everything else the world had to offer.) Prancing along her merry way, she nonetheless kept her ears perked and her gaze alert. She was a stranger in a strange land – invigorating as the idea of exploring and meeting creatures that weren’t her mother or Wildlings was, Eve knew that it was best to stay vigilant, at least for the moment. Wouldn’t her mother be proud of her, all grown up and seeing the world for herself?


(In all actuality, Eve knew that she would be furious. She probably was furious. She decided not to think about it.)
but satisfaction brought it back



-Please tag Eve!
- No permission is required to do anything to Eve short of permanently maiming/killing her

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
#2
The young alchemist stallion strode confidently through the woods as his blue dragoness flew ahead of him. His head was in the clouds thinking over the things he had learned recently. It was strange to think that he now held a rank, his desired rank at that. He was a valued member of the herd, he had a purpose. Slowly it seemed like he was starting to fit in with his powerful family. For as long as he could remember he had felt like a lesser member of his blood tribe. His magic was weak at best and he didn't hold the heart of a warrior in his breast. Now he held a dragon (massive bonus points) and a rank. He smiled brightly his heart light and open.

Zafir's powerful body zipped into view racing for him. His ears pricked as her sudden appearance drew him out of his brain. She turned with a chirp and lead him deeper into the woods. His smile softened his scarlet and blue eyes bright and curious as he trotted after her. Zafir arrived first circling the mare scarlet eyes intense with scrutiny. Her blue scales and pearly white talons glinted in the afternoon sun.

Astarot slowed and watched the mare wondering how she would react to the dragon, before he moved into her line of sight. His voice was a deep warm bass, "Hello mama, please don't mind Zafir, she wont harm you." He dipped his head low an a respectful greeting, "I'm Astarot, from the Dragon's Throat." Dual colored eyes settled on the tiny mare. He was taken by how beautiful she was. Her coat was red trimmed in a deep rich brown. Beautiful stripes and dots speckled her body feathery wings. Her eyes were a beautiful and unique lilac accented by silver markings. As beautiful as she was her size was a turn off. He liked larger women. No, it wasn't because the stallion wanted to keep the blood lines of his father strong and tall, that's just what he liked.

A dainty lady like this could never support him or his large children. He was surprised his mother had been able to bear him with her slender lithe frame. He smiled softly at her taking in her pretty crown curiously. He inhaled deeply drawing in her scent searching for a herd smell. She smelt of a land he had never visited before. "I can't smell one of the other herds on you, are you new here?" He smiled and tilted his head tilting to the right curiously. Zafir, satisfied with her examination of the lady, landed on Astarot's bone marked back.
-----------------------------------------
Talk
Words;; 441
OOC/Tags;; @Eve Welcome to Helovia! <3
Astarot & Zafir
Remeber who you are.play?

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Eve Posts: 7
Aurora Basin Mare
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.2hh :: 2 yrs [frostfall]
Jeanne
#3



EVE
curiosity killed the cat

The flurry of wings stirred Eve from her thoughts, and she glanced to her side to spot a small reptile flying towards her; she stared blankly, though it was moreso from confusion than shock. “Are you a dragon?” She managed, after a moment’s silence, thought she doubted that the creature could respond. They did have dragons in the Wildwood, though the dragons she was accustomed to were not like this one,  assuming it was a dragon at all – the dragons in the Wildwood were massive and crafted purely from the elements, not…scales and skin and blood. The little creature took to circling around her, pretty scarlet eyes fixed on her frame, and she would have been perfectly content to watch it for a spell, soft smile curled across her lips, if she hadn’t been distracted by the flicker of moment at the edge of her vision. She turned abruptly, soft lilac eyes shifting to focus on the much larger, cream-colored shape that had just entered her realm of thought. She froze.


Eve had always known her mother, and she had always known herself. Very occasionally, a wildling would shapeshift into a horse, though she could always tell that they were wildlings. Regardless of the form they took, they held a certain unnerving, impossible perfection about them; you knew that they could not really exist, and it always made them feel very wrong. They were far more beautiful than any mortal could ever hope to be, but, at the same time, they weren’t beautiful at all, because their very nature was a violation of reality as she knew it, not that she had ever had a very firm grasp on the concept. Other than that, she’d never left the Wildwood, and no others had ever strayed in to encounter her. Her gaze drifted across the stranger that had just walked into her sight precariously, soaking in every little detail; vaguely, she processed his words, ears flicking to catch the smooth baritone of his voice. (He was Astarot. The little creature was Zafir, and she would not harm her, though Eve hadn’t been especially ruffled by her presence to begin with – growing up alongside eldritch abominations would do that. He was from somewhere called…the Dragon’s Throat?) She was more preoccupied with his presence than his words, for once, excitement bubbling up in her chest as she took in every inch of his dun coat. The white markings on his face and back, on his sides…they looked like they were tracing his skeleton, didn’t they? How intriguing! The stripes of brilliant blue – cyan, she noted mentally - on his face matched one of his eyes, but the other was a different color entirely, a ruby-red not dissimilar to his companion’s. She made a note of the fluctuations in the shades of cream of his coat, the way it darkened around his face and hips and legs, the tiny flecks of white that materialized sporadically, the little stripes on his limbs. His hair was lengthy and full, reminiscent of her own, though it was quite straight, unlike her wild curls. The man was considerably larger than her, in terms of both height and mass, built for a strength that she lacked. Eve took a second to appreciate how different he was, how unique, how they were both the same kinds of creatures in spite of how dissimilar he was to her. It was marvelous! “My goodness,” She said, somewhat awestruck, as a broad grin worked its way across her features, “You’re quite magnificent!” Eve dipped her head in something of a belated greeting, feeling horribly giddy about this sudden turn of events. “Astarot…Zafir,” She started, rolling their names around on her tongue, “It’s a pleasure to meet both of you! I’m Eve of the Wildwood…or, well, I was. Now I’m just Eve.” It wasn’t as though she could ever go back, not that she’d want to.


Astarot then asked her if she was new to these lands, just as Zafir came to rest on his back. She nodded firmly. “Ah, yes. I’m from quite a ways away, or so I imagine – I...didn’t exactly walk here.” Eve tore her eyes away from the stallion for just long enough to glance about the forest again, quirking her brow. He’d mentioned herds, and though she was, admittedly, curious about them, she had more immediate questions. “What is this place?”
but satisfaction brought it back


@Astarot Thanks for the welcome! <3


-Please tag Eve!
- No permission is required to do anything to Eve short of permanently maiming/killing her

Weaver Posts: 149
Aurora Basin Corporal atk: 8.0 | def: 10.0 | dam: 3.0
Mare :: Hybrid :: 15.1 :: 3 years HP: 61 | Buff: Novice
Raven :: Australian Raven :: Terrorize Kyra
#4

i don't rise from the ashes, i make them.

She is totally late to this party, but she’s going to pretend she’s fashionably late on purpose. But really, sometimes these things just happened. It’s not like she could know when a new arrival comes to the Threshold (wouldn’t that be convenient), or when a conversation is about to begin (again, wouldn’t that be convenient). So instead, she’s at the mercy of luck, and today it’s not completely on her side. But maybe it’s not the worst thing, either, to be just a little bit late. She catches voices as she weaves through the trees of the Threshold, going somewhat familiar with the place.

Weaver doesn’t spend enough time here to know it well, but she does come, and it’s growing more familiar each time. She moves easily, like she’s grown up here all her life, though that’s far from true. No, she’s quite new really, but even the first time she came here she pretended like it seemed familiar to her. Act like you own the place and all that. Two horses, and a dragon, come into view through some gaps in the trees. Raven caws from his perch on, announcing their presence so as not to startle them. Though a bird call in a forest isn’t the best announcement, Raven seems pleased with his role.

She’s close enough to hear the mare repeat the stallion and his dragon’s name, and she guesses which name goes to which face. Then she introduces herself as Eve, and finally Weaver comes to stop near the group with a slight nod of her head in hello. “Weaver,” she offers to both, tossing her own name into the ring. Raven eyes the dragon first, and then the mare, realizing how shiny the pretty little lady is. He caws again, taking off in search of something, and Weaver simply shakes her head slightly. “And that is Raven.”

She pauses a moment, wondering just want her bonded is getting himself into, but then plows on while waiting for him. “This is Helovia. Specfically, you are in a place called the Threshold, where most new horses end up. There are three herds here. I’m from one in the north, called the Aurora Basin.” She stops there, figuring it’s enough information, and besides, Raven has come diving back into view, slowing near the mare called Eve. He’s managed to find a bright blue feather, and he drops it at the ground near her feet. “Ah, sorry about him, he really likes pretty things.”

I'm the whole fucking fire.

- weaver -

image credit | quote by erin van vuren


@Eve

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

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
#5
Astarot & Zafir
Zafir cooed at the mare scarlet eyes slipping over the mare's pretty hide. Pearly white talons clicked quietly as she circled the curious mare. How many winged equines knew what a dragon was? She assumed most would run in fear a scream bleeding from their lips; as they should. Jolts of curiosity pulsed from the dragon to her stallion. His ears flicked as he stepped int the light eyes sparkling brightly. "Most don't realize what she is, or fear her." His head tilted slightly as he examined the petite mare, frozen. He wondered vaguely if she was scared of him She seemed to be around his own age. His blue and red gaze switched to her eyes trying to peel away the layers. Did she hold any of the feelings he had in his secret heart? After a moment he gave up, there was no sliver of abandonment or shadowy corners.

He wouldn't really call himself a Casanova, but they way her lilac eyes slide over his frame made him second guess that. Subconsciously his neck arched head shifting closer to his chest, muscles tightened over his broad back and thick chest. It was times like these he looked like his Abominable father; he felt like him too, all testosterone no brains. A sheepish smile crept over his face. He was sure he wasn't bad looking, especially next to his dark pelted brothers, but he had no idea how to act. He had tried the nice guy retinue several times, but maybe not every girl liked that. Maybe some wanted a brute, James Dean instead of Superman. 'How do you tell what kind of guy they want though?!' He felt his heart hammering, his temperature rising, and his lust growing. When had he felt that for a normal horse? Amaris was the last time, but she was far from normal.

Finally the dainty lady speaks and breaks the the man's wild thoughts of late night rendezvous. Her words took him completly by surprise. It felt like she had kicked him in the gut forcing the air form his lunges. His body froze eyes widening slightly as they flicked to her grin. Zafir rolled her eyes at the mare before lifting her front paw up. She examined her claws carefully before selecting the sharpest one. Casually she jabbed his shoulder drawing a drop of blood from his hide. She was used to unfreezing her stag, as bothersome as it was. His tail swung around and smacked the puncture wound as he shook his head once clearing it. "Uh, thank you Miss." It was more of a question than a statement.  He had never been complemented, not about his looks anyway. Now this striking lady just told him he was magnificent. 'I have to tell father about this one.' He swallowed hard and let his easy smile slip back over his bone marked features. "You are quite beautiful yourself, the pleasure is all mine Lady Eve."

A bird called, no a raven. Zafir's scaly head whipped around her wings half opening. Birds where her favorite prey, especially ravens. They were cunning food, fun to chase, and even harder to catch. Her pearly teeth flashed in aggravation when it showed up on a mare. Companions weren't food, no matter how tasty they were. Flicking her long blue tail she promptly turned her back on the newcomers. Astarot turned his head with Zafir, but he wasn't angry that another had wondered up to them. His nostrils flared drawing in the hybrid lady's scent; ice. He dipped her head to her politely while Zafir ignored them altogether.

His focus turns back to the newcomer as she speaks of being new here. She hadn't walked here? He waits till Weaver is doe speaking before asking his own question, "If you didn't walk here, did come by magic then?" He smiled ears pressed forward curiously. Magic always caught his attention. He enjoyed hearing about new forms, and how they could be used. He waits for a moment before turning back to the matters at hand, "Usually horses from the three herds show up here to offer a new home to wondering souls, like yourself, and sometimes it can get pretty intense" He glanced at Weaver casting her a joking wink a good-natured chuckled rumbled from large his chest. "They choice is purely up to you though. My home is desert island south and west of here. We have an oasis were food grows year round with a freshwater lake in the center." He smiled fondly his eyes glazing over slightly as he thought of his beloved him. Blinking he turns to Weaver allowing her the chance to speak. Once she falls silent again he continues, "If you choice to roam free, please be aware. We are having some," he pauses hunting for a good word, "issue, with a displaced God. AS of right now, he doesn't look very trust worthy. He has hurt many and killed at least one person that I know of." He glanced at the black and white lady, "My home will always welcome you, even if you do roam now." Zafir cooed to the small lady in agreement with her stallion's words. Satisfied with his explanation he fell silent allowing Weaver or Eve to speak.

---------------------------------------------------
Talk
Words;; 881
OOC/Tags;; @Eve @Weaver I'm sorry this took so long!!
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Eve Posts: 7
Aurora Basin Mare
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.2hh :: 2 yrs [frostfall]
Jeanne
#6



EVE
curiosity killed the cat

Eve, admittedly, wondered if she had said something wrong in the silence following her comment. The stallion froze up abruptly, and the dragon gave her a look; prior to that, however, he’d puffed up under her gaze, much like a preening bird. She tilted her head in a gesture of doggish confusion, casting a pleading glance at the small reptile, as though she could tell the little mare what social misstep she might have made. He seemed to snap back to reality after a moment, and offered his polite thanks, which only furthered her confusion - it had been an observation, not a compliment, though she swallowed down the urge to correct him. (Had that been her mistake? Wildlings had a certain, shallow adoration for flattery, which was why she preferred to avoid it. He was certainly not magnificent like a Wildling - rather, she thought of him as more of a blooming flower or a sunset, not that normal plants grew in the Wildwood or she could often see the sky through the trees. His was the fleeting, temporal magnificence of something completely new and natural. You could tell the sunset that it was magnificent, but it would never feel the need to respond, and she’d expected that to be the case with him. This was the first time that she considered that perhaps she didn’t understand other mortals as well as she’d expected.) He continued with a polite reply to her own introduction (Lady Eve. Her mother would laugh.) and a compliment of his own, which was met with a somewhat questioning, “Why, thank you,” and another dazzlingly pleasant smile to hide her confusion.

She was so distracted by first contact that she didn’t notice the approach of another creature until she heard her voice; she turns to face the newcomer and her feathered companion with the same long, searching stare and broad smile that she’d given the stallion, lavender gaze almost unnervingly meticulous. Eve barely caught a glimpse of the bird before he fled - Raven, the mare had called him? She’d heard the word before, and she’d seen “ravens,” but they were always Wildlings in thinly-veiled disguises. The bird that fled away into the trees in a flurry of glossy blue-black was a real bird, and the sight of him made her irrationally excited, though not so much as his companion. The mare - Weaver - was a lovely! A crown of obsidian horns, curved back, rested on the back of her skull, with a longer, solitary one towards the center of her forehead. Her coat was a glistening patchwork of blue-blacks and whites, and her great, glossy wings are as replescent as Raven’s. She was beautiful, certainly, but there was a power to her beauty, a defined musculature to her feminine shape - there was a fierceness to her that made Eve think that she could hold her own in a fight, though she was neither especially tall or especially bulky. “A pleasure to meet you, Weaver,” She said softly, then, unable to resist, added, “Your wings are marvelous - the feathers gleam such a pretty blue!”

Weaver explained that this land was called Helovia, (”Helovia,” She echoed, largely to herself, rolling the name around on her tongue - it felt foreign and odd, though she imagined she’d get used to it. This was home now.) they were standing in a place called the Threshold, and that she was from one of the three herds - Aurora Basin, to the north. “Aurora Basin? It sounds beautiful,” Eve remarked, inquisitive as ever. Her mother had told her of auroras in the land outside of the Wildwood - bright, flickering displays of colorful lights in northern skies at night. She’d rarely been able to catch a glimpse of the sky through the trees, and the north was conceptual, a land covered in frozen water called snow with air so cold that it made your breath come out white. The flapping of feathered wings drew her attention away again; her eyes came to rest on Raven, who’d returned with a brilliant blue feather clutched in his talons. He deposited it neatly on the ground near her hooves, and she bent to examine it eagerly, paying little attention to his companion’s words. “It’s no bother, really,” She said, somewhat absently, “What a beautiful shade of blue!”  

Astarot spoke again, then, inquiring about her entrance into this realm - she faced him again, gaze meeting his own steadily. “Oh, yes,” Eve said, bobbing her head in reply. “No one can enter - or leave, in my case - the Wildwood by normal means. It is a place of pure magick. Reality itself is fragmented there, and the creatures in it...the Wildlings, and the gods...can warp and change it on a whim. My mother and I were the only mortals in the Wildwood, and even that wouldn’t have been very permanent - if you stay in the Wildwood for too long, you become a part of it. I didn’t want to. I wanted something else, so I used forbidden magick to leave. No turning back now.” She smiled, somewhat sheepishly. (Did her insatiable desire for some nondescript more imply the unconscious, desperate desire of her body to remain mortal, rather than becoming one of them - like a drowning man swallowing seawater while seeking air? Possibly.)  “I’ve never met anyone else like me, before you two.”

Eve shook away any lingering thoughts of her homeland as Astarot continued to speak. The herds were in competition? She didn’t know much of society, admittedly, but she supposed that it made enough sense. He went on to describe his own homeland, the “Dragon’s Throat” that he’d mentioned in his introduction. “This home of yours sounds wonderful,” She offered, voice seeped in something akin to genuine, uncertain awe. Deserts and islands and oases were all blurry concepts to the mare - her mother had told her of the world outside of the wildwood, from time to time, so she knew that the three combined meant heat and bright light and sweat, but, if she were asked to conjure an image of the landscape, she would have nothing to draw from. She thought that she’d like to see it, at the very least. Her mind had little time to wander, however; he wasn’t done speaking yet.

“A...displaced god?” She inclined her chin very slightly, brow creasing in a puzzled expression, although she did not appear especially daunted by the idea. “And…’doesn’t look very trustworthy?’ Does that mean your gods can lie?” The concept was foreign to the mare. Her gods had always been many things - some were tricksters, and some twisted the truth, but none of them could genuinely lie, and they were always fair. They were incomprehensible, and they cared for nothing, so they always gave and took in equal measures, more akin to corporeal storms than sentient beings. There were rules to dealing with them, of course, and those always stood, but they were largely unpredictable. It did not trouble her that a god would hurt or kill. That was natural. Rather, the implication that the divine could have motives left a sour taste in her mouth. He added that she’d be welcomed in the Throat at any time, should she desire it, but she was far too preoccupied with this bizarre conflict to give it much thought, for the time.
but satisfaction brought it back




@Astarot @Weaver Sorry for the book & the gratuitous use of parentheses /headdesk/

-Please tag Eve!
- No permission is required to do anything to Eve short of permanently maiming/killing her

Weaver Posts: 149
Aurora Basin Corporal atk: 8.0 | def: 10.0 | dam: 3.0
Mare :: Hybrid :: 15.1 :: 3 years HP: 61 | Buff: Novice
Raven :: Australian Raven :: Terrorize Kyra
#7

i don't rise from the ashes, i make them.

The stallion is pleasant enough, though it’s clear the dragon is not friend material for raven. Though he’s too interested in the mare to care much about making friends with a dragon anyway. He doesn’t tend to make friends with dragons anyway. Dragons are predators, and Raven knows he is their prey. Amaris’ dragon had been an exception, friendly where he rarely finds such reception.

Weaver, for her part, keeps her attention on the two other equines, listening to the stallion and the mare as they speak. He asks her about how she got here, teasing slightly at how it can get intense. She laughs slightly, only nodding, though thinking this is hardly intense. But her definition of intense probably didn’t jive with everyone else’s version of intense, and she figures now is not one of those moments to demonstrate.

She’s not unaware of the girl’s almost meticulous stare, and Weaver would love to know just what the mare is thinking. But she can’t mind read, and truthfully, it’s not a power that she seeks. She doesn’t actually care that much what others think of her, but sometimes she is curious. She would love the thoughts that go on in Eve’s head, the realization that Weaver is more than just a pretty face but something powerful. Even if she is small, built rather unremarkably at best. “Thank you,” she says when the mare compliments her wings. She spreads them a bit, ruffling her feathers, before letting them settle back down.

Raven caws as the mare bends down to examine the feather, not understanding her words but taking cues through his bond with Weaver. His rustles his feathers, looking very pleased with himself, before taking off to land on Weaver’s back again, his job to impressing the pretty mare done for the moment. “The Basin is beautiful. I can’t say I’ve seen the Throat, but you should pretty much picture the opposite. It is a rather cool, often snowy, valley within the mountains. We have a large lake, more caves than you can ever explore, and some wonderful hot springs. The sky is what gives the herd it’s name though, and the colors are stunning. You have to see it, even if you don’t choose to live there, you could always stop by for a visit.”

She remains silent, ears pricked, at the mare talks about where she came from. Weaver lets a look of interest pass over her face, because it sounds like a hell of a place. Though the girl admits to wanting to stay mortal, something Weaver mostly understands. She can’t die. Well, sort of. She comes back, again and again, but one day, old age will take her, and she likes knowing there’s some way out. She cannot imagine a life where days are truly unlimited, cannot imagine simply become part of a place. “You’ve found a good place to start over. My old home wasn’t quite so intense, but our gods did tend to make decisions on a whim, taking everything from us. I can understand wanting to get out.”

Then the stallion goes on to scare the girl with tales of Kaos. It’s a fair warning. Newcomers should know, but still, the girl’s barely got the name of the place. It seems like a lot at once, but Weaver can’t blame him for offering the information. To the mare’s credit, she doesn’t seem overly worried, and Weaver finds herself more interested in this pretty mare. She’s not scared little girl, that’s for sure. “This one can. I don’t actually know if Helovia’s god’s can lie,” she says, looking to Astarot to see if he can fill in the information here. She doesn’t know much here, just a bit about the Rift Wars and how Kaos came to be. They defeated him once…sort of him, anyway. They could do it again.

I'm the whole fucking fire.

- weaver -

image credit | quote by erin van vuren


@Astarot @Eve

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

Eve Posts: 7
Aurora Basin Mare
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.2hh :: 2 yrs [frostfall]
Jeanne
#8



EVE
curiosity killed the cat

Eve listened with a quiet attentiveness as Weaver described the Basin, struggling to visualize the landscape that she described. Cold and snow were difficult concepts - the worst she’d ever experienced was a slight chill, though she’d heard that real cold could burn you until you felt numb, and, though her mother had conjured a few snowflakes for her when she was a child, she couldn’t really imagine what great quantities of it might look like, aside from being white and crunchy-soft. Lakes were somewhat understandable, if they were just larger ponds, though caves were difficult to wrap her head around. She’d seen small dips and valleys throughout the forest, even rock faces in the places where the forest rose up along mountainsides, but she’d never seen a cave large enough to fit herself into. Hot springs? Eve wasn’t entirely sure what a hot spring was, though she could imagine from the name. She stared at Weaver, somewhat starry-eyed at the idea of this Aurora Basin. “It seems that it would be a shame to miss,” She agreed, a hint of eagerness in her tone. "What's the herd like?"

Weaver offered a bit of her own background in response to Eve’s spiel about the wildwood. She offered a slight nod in response to her words; it hadn’t really been the fear of any tangible loss that had driven her from her homeland, but, if she had become a Wildling, she knew that she would lose her own humanity, and somehow that felt worse than losing her life. It’s good to find a little bit of empathy, in any case.

Weaver informed her that this rogue god, can, in fact, lie, though she wasn't sure about Helovia’s own gods and redirected the question to Astarot. Eve’s lips quirked slightly. “That’s...strange to me,” She admitted. “Our gods are incapable of lying, though I’m not sure that they’d need to anyways. They act less like mortals and more like sentient forces of nature, and lying seems like a very mortal impulse - you lie for a reason. We’re nothing to them at all, so, even if they could lie, I don’t imagine they’d bother.” She tilts her head slightly. “The minor spirits - wildlings, we call them - are a bit different. They do deceive, though they do it with half-truths and manipulations, never lies. This displaced god of yours sounds a bit like a wildling.” Eve didn’t sound the slightest bit cowed by these revelations, though she did add a quick, “Thank you for the warning.”
but satisfaction brought it back




@Astarot - hope you don't mind me skipping over you. <3 just trying to keep this thread rolling

@Weaver

-Please tag Eve!
- No permission is required to do anything to Eve short of permanently maiming/killing her

Weaver Posts: 149
Aurora Basin Corporal atk: 8.0 | def: 10.0 | dam: 3.0
Mare :: Hybrid :: 15.1 :: 3 years HP: 61 | Buff: Novice
Raven :: Australian Raven :: Terrorize Kyra
#9

i don't rise from the ashes, i make them.

Astarot doesn’t really fill in the silence, but they plow on anyway. Eve asks what the herd is like, and Weaver grins at the question. How does she even begin to answer that? With the truth, of course, but still that left quite a lot of information to be divulged. And she’s not trying to information overload  the girl either. “They’re a good lot, though maybe a little eclectic.” Beloved was more than eclectic, but Beloved was not typical of the Basiners, But they were eclectic. They ranged from happy go lucky Tia to the overly honorable Erebos to the far more conniving and sassy Rikyn. “They all care a hell of a lot for their home and those that live in it.”

That is the best way to sum it up. They all cared in their own way, but they did care. It was all she could ask of a herd. One that had all but replaced the family she’d left behind. She’s hardly the sentimental type, but she chose to protect the members of the Basin with her own life (which is not nearly as selfless as it sounds, when you are Weaver). More importantly, she finds she doesn’t mind the possibility of dying for the idiots either,

They switch to the topic of Gods and Weaver listens, curious. Her faeries had controlled their land, yes, but they were largely uninvolved in lives of the residents. They were forces from the land itself, probably. Here, the Gods were not very different from the mortals that they ruled. These wild Gods of Eve sound like something else entirely. Interesting, in a horrid sort of way. “If you stick around long enough, you’ll meet our Gods soon enough. They are very mortal, in a figurative sense of the word. Not so different from us.” Just more powerful, but it seemed they were flawed.

“Do you want to come check out the Basin? You don’t have to stay, if it’s not to your liking.” She asks, switching the topic back, figuring this mare doesn’t want to spend all day making small talk with two random strangers. She’s got a life to start, it would seem.

I'm the whole fucking fire.

- weaver -

image credit | quote by erin van vuren


@Eve

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

Eve Posts: 7
Aurora Basin Mare
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.2hh :: 2 yrs [frostfall]
Jeanne
#10



EVE
curiosity killed the cat

Astarot remained silent, so Eve kept her focus on Weaver, although she wasn’t entirely sure how to take her answer. She sounded completely genuine, especially if the smile on her face was to be believed, and Eve wasn’t a particularly suspicious girl anyways. Good, if eclectic - that was easy enough to understand, though she, admittedly, didn’t have a good enough grasp on what either word really meant, outside of a fuzzy concept and definition. Caring about a place, on the other hand...well. The Wildwood didn’t need anyone to care about it, and it was difficult to be at home amid a horde of primordial beings anyways. Her mother had sometimes said that the lands she’d come from - the ones that Eve had never been able to see - had only ever been her homelands because of her family and friends. It was probably something like that. She almost said that they sounded nice, but that didn’t seem like the right word. Eve settled for ”They certainly sound like something,” instead, a faint smile curling at the corner of her lips.

Weaver went on to mention that she’d probably run into a Helovian god at some point or another - a bit of a change in pace from the Wildwood, where you couldn’t walk ten feet without tripping over two old gods and a wildling or three, but she’d left to escape divinity, not go running back to it. Her comment about the mortal emotions of the gods made some small, ugly part of her twitch. They were like her father’s gods, then. There was probably nothing wrong with that, because she knew how much her mother had come to hate him as time dragged on, and hateful individuals could rarely tell the truth of things, but she couldn’t stop herself from thinking that it was wrong, unfair, biased. She shook it off, reminding herself that she hadn’t left home to contemplate the nature of divinity.

Weaver extended an invitation to visit the Basin, and Eve broke into a broad, giddy grin. ”Yes, please,” She answered as soon as the offer left the other mare’s mouth, voice practically quivering. There was a whole world waiting for her, or whatever the expression was, and Eve could hardly wait to experience it.
but satisfaction brought it back




@Weaver <3

-Please tag Eve!
- No permission is required to do anything to Eve short of permanently maiming/killing her


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