the Rift


a .f r o s t e d. heart is filled with cracks [open]

Psyche the DarkEmpress Posts: 380
Deceased
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 8 (ages in Orangemoon) Buff: ENDURE
RayoDeSoleil
#1

A cold wind blew across the Steppe, lonely flakes drifting in its wake, destined to follow, but never to lead. The winter wonderland was a desolate place, filled with an eerie, forlorn emotion, as though it was buried deep within the grounds. One would think that a place so steeped in the color of purity might be a bit more light-hearted, but no: it was an oppressive, desolate place. Promises of good cheer and warmth from long ago were gone, cast to that dreadful wind that never stopped churning the drifts, creating the perpetual fog that so perplexed the land's inhabitants. One would think they were traveling toward an outcropping of rock only to find upon their arrival that it was nothing but snow piled against the trees. Not that trees were common in the tundra.

It was not the best of places to house a herd during the harshest Frostfall to grace the land in years. It was not the most friendly of homes for not one, but two newborn foals. It was not the smartest place to hide from their enemies, what with the barren landscape and sparse vegetation. But it had been their king's decision, and they had followed blindly, like the snowflakes in the wind; and now their wind was gone, vanished as though the gods had simply whisked him away. It was not the best of times for him to disappear, and some would say that he had failed as their commander. Some would cry their disappointment to that gods-forsaken wind, hoping that someone might hear their pleas. And someone did hear. Someone always hears.

The shadow-mare skirted around a dense thicket of trees, one of the few in the barren wasteland that she was forced to call home. That wind danced through her mane, invited her multi-colored trinkets into a gentle waltz against her nape. She shook her head halfheartedly, as though to remind the tendrils that she was their mistress, and that they ought to listen to her alone. But as soon as she had begun the motion, it was done, her thoughts elsewhere. Yes, she had heard the whispers that spoke of their lost king. She had listened as disgruntled unicorns voiced their opinions, though never loud enough to attract attention. They would not trumpet it. But it was gossip, and gossip travels like wildfire.

She was above such idle boredom. After all, she was amassing her own private army within the ranks of the Edge. In fact, she had brought several new members into the herd simply because they had agreed to rally behind her cause. But still, the absence of the FrostHeart preyed on her mind, though for very different reasons than those of her herdmates. She tried in vain to banish the thoughts from her mind, but they were there. And today, they had overcome even her barriers. Thus, she quietly wandered from the herd to better be alone with her thoughts. Thinking about her feelings was a new pastime for the jackal, and one that she viewed with contempt. And yet, she found herself unable to stop the thoughts constantly crowding her mind, fighting for her attention.

He had left; she felt certain of that. He was gone, and he might come back, but for now, he was gone. She hadn't the time for 'what ifs' and 'in the futures.' All she had time for was the here and now. She had to make a plan, she had to find a way to rally the exiles. Otherwise, they would forget their pain, forget their past, and the shared rage that drove them together would fade into oblivion, as would their chances of retaliation. But it was hard - even she was finding it difficult to focus on such things when something deep inside her felt hurt, betrayed, deserted. All of these things she regarded with disdain, and she hated herself with the weakness that she was allowing to grow. Oh, how she hated him for making her feel this way! How she hated him for leaving her as she left him! Was this some form of revenge? Some kind of torturous payback? Well, just wait until he comes back! Payback isn't the only thing that can be a bitch!


[W/C | 712]

Walk walk walk.
"Talk talk talk."
Think think think.


Chester Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#2


Chester
You are now invited to the other side of sanity





Yes, the tundra is desolate, but must it always be so? Is self-pity really the best pastime to pursue while a herd awaits, in need of a leader?

The little stallion approaching may force Psyche to ask herself such questions. Then again, he may not. It is not his place to make such decisions. His role is simply to be, and perhaps impart knowledge or lead one on a philosophical journey. He is a whirling dervish of song and poetry, strawberry roan stripped with purple melding into a dizzying blur of bright colors, so out of place in this land of snow that he is almost surreal. Chester is well aware of this fact, and it amuses him as so many things do. Yellow eyes alight on the black mare, and this too amuses him. Curiosity brings him skipping over, absolutely brimming with suppressed mirth. He offers no greeting, simply stands and regards her with uncannily feline orbs that glint with hidden secrets.

Then, high-pitched shuddery laughter rings out over the icy landscape, laughter that taunts and threatens madness, declaring that he knows more than those who hear the sound, and that he revels in this fact. The eerie sound seems to drift in the air for longer than it should, though whether or not this is true or just an odd feeling cannot be determined. The candy colored beast is a riddle, one that none have yet managed to solve, and he has chosen today to grace(or curse, depending on how you look at it) Psyche with his presence. He could grant the mare a new perspective on her current situation, or leave her baffled. It will all be decided on how she treats the odd fellow, and whether or not she is clever enough to decipher his twisted way of speaking.

“You are lost, Wing-Hunter.” Lilting voice is smug, as if he is telling her something she could not possibly figure out on her own. Satisfied that his statement and strange behavior will lure the black lady into further conversation, he dances away a few steps, almost daring her to follow, to respond and question, to attempt to learn what she can of the lunatic. It is all a game, he has learned, a game of intrigue and half-truths, giving just enough to entice a new player into immersing themselves in the labyrinthine corridors of his mind. He plays well, and has yet to lose, though what is to be won or lost in such an endeavor is unclear. He pauses, a luridly painted statue, optics still locked on the figure of his newest interest.

This is what the other side of sanity looks like. Will she dare venture farther into his convoluted Wonderland?





Psyche the DarkEmpress Posts: 380
Deceased
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 8 (ages in Orangemoon) Buff: ENDURE
RayoDeSoleil
#3

How interesting it was to consider others' views of the world. Or it would be, if the shadow-mare was even remotely intrigued by such nonsense. Perhaps it was narrow-minded of her, but she considered her views the only true way to see the world for what it was. Unicorns were supreme, and ought to reign as such; all others were beneath her. Even hybrids made her cringe, though she conveniently forgot to ask her recruits if they were half-blooded. If they hated the other races and looked as unicorns should, who cared? As long as they didn't birth a winged or plain foal, no one would be the wiser for their secrets.

She was so lost in thought that the high-pitched cackling was upon her auds before sight of the little stallion was upon her orbs. He was a strange thing, to be sure. Tiny, for one; she could trample him without breaking a sweat. and the colors of his pelt - what two beasts had mated to give rise to this fellow colored in pink and purple, striped and roaned, all sorts of shades meshing together in what seemed to be a sickly, candy-colored pile. It was difficult to discern even his form. He was far from easy on the eyes, and she found herself opposed to spending time with him, despite the fact that he was a unicorn. This was his saving grace, actually, as she might well have attacked should he have been anything less.

"You are lost, Wing-Hunter," he told her as she raised a brow, her facial expression unamused. Of course the stupid creature would approach her and talk in riddles. She was in no mood for that. she had been rather enjoying her solitude, but there you are: things didn't always work out as planned. The brightly colored munchkin danced a few steps away, pauses, regarding her, almost taunting her. She bated, following, falling into step beside him as though they are off on a leisurely walk. "Never lost, darling, simply considering different paths." She smiled, the expression a too-sweet shadow of what a true smile ought to look like. But it had fooled many, and it would fool him, too.


[W/C | 367]

Walk walk walk.
"Talk talk talk."
Think think think.


Chester Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#4


Chester
You are now invited to the other side of sanity





The lady is not overly happy to share space with him, but Chester has never cared whether or not someone wants to speak with him. If his interest is caught, he will lure the recipient of his interest into conversation somehow, even if it is necessary to follow them about for hours whist throwing out riddles and remarks. This time, such actions are unneeded, for she joins him and gives a reply to his strange comment. “Those who are never lost have never truly roamed.” He pauses a moment, giving her time to take in his words before speaking again. “Are you sure that it is you considering the paths, and not the other way around? Or that the paths even exist?” Amused, he thinks back to a similar conversation, spoken among evergreen trees with a unicorn bearing the antler of a stag. The elder had known how to play the game, a rarity here in this Helovia land. The wise one was not here however, and so attention was returned to the black femme striding along beside him.

Bored with simply trying to slog through snow that was chest-high to him at its lowest points, he instead chooses to leap through the deep drifts, throwing up sparkling white trails in his wake. Why such a thing would be easier is unknown, and perhaps he does it simply because it pleases him to do so. Chester’s motives are always rather erratic, determined by some unfathomable logic that none but he is aware of. The little one is a contradiction, both incredibly wise and unbelievably foolish, completely mad and completely sane at once.

Who does the Wing-Hunter most resemble? He ponders the question as he bounds along, comparing her to those he had once shared a homeland with. Certainly not one of the sillier inhabitants. The queens or the duchess? She did have a regal air about her, but he still is dissatisfied. The Bandersnatch? Yes, that is the correct answer. The dark girl reminded him of the ferocious hunter, sleek and camouflaged well by shadows. Tiny head bobs in a nod, pleased at having come to such a conclusion. Tweedles, the Knight, Jabberwocky, and now the Bandersnatch, all have been found. The moon-grin that he is known for splits his face. His old family may be gone, but slowly he is finding members suitable to form a new one.




Psyche the DarkEmpress Posts: 380
Deceased
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 8 (ages in Orangemoon) Buff: ENDURE
RayoDeSoleil
#5

"Those who are never lost have never truly roamed."

She looked at him sharply, her amber orbs thoughtful. What an odd way to find her: it was very rare that the shadow-mare was caught unawares. And yet, unaware she was, and she decided, somehow, to ponder these words for but a moment. Perhaps, in her own way, she was lost; not that she would admit it, of course. But she rested assured that she would find her way, as she always had before. Before, a voice in her mind smirked. And how did that turn out for you, I wonder?

Before, things had been easy. She had been in the perfect position. She was to be queen, she could feel it, and she was to lead the Plague. She was to be the queen that had brought unicorn supremacy to the lands. Was. Now, she still held at least the power to reign supreme, but not as queen. Or not as his queen. But that was better, wasn't it? For she didn't want to be his. Did she? She turned her cranium away from the little stag again, scanning their surroundings while she thought, cogs turning quickly.

Another bit of speech: "Are you sure that it is you considering the paths, and not the other way around? Or that the paths even exist?" What an odd creature, she thought, suddenly and out of the blue. Though a large portion of her longed to crush the irritating thing, she was intrigued by the riddles he spoke. He was a unicorn, after all, and he posed no threat to her. May as well see what he had to say. "Perhaps," she told him, forcing amusement into her tone, "there are no paths until we create them. Thus, I would not be lost, merely forging my own way." Like you are doing in the snow, she added in silent scorn.


[W/C | 317]

Walk walk walk.
"Talk talk talk."
Think think think.


Chester Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#6


Chester
You are now invited to the other side of sanity





The Wing-hunter-bandersnatch-girl plays the game fairly well, retorting with a clever answer. Still, the odd unicorn has a reply formulated within seconds, eyes glittering at the challenge. “Which way is yours, Wing-Hunter? Where is it you wish to go? If you know not what you seek, you will surely wind up travelling in circles.” He whirls in a small circle of his own, quick steps sending a flurry of white powder to obscure his tiny form for a moment before both settle into stillness once again. Crescent smiles bares itself again, an expression that may mean glee or malice. To the otherworldly animal, the feelings may be the same.

Still, he decides the mare will be much more interesting should he remain in her good graces, or at least avoid antagonizing her more than he deems necessary. Thin tail whips behind him in a feline manner, and in his mind he takes the raven apart, breaking her down into tiny sections that are analyzed closely, only to put all the pieces together again. Idly, he wonders what would happen if he truly did divide Psyche into little blocks. Would they all fit together in a pretty puzzle once he was done, or would she be subtly wrong forever after? An intriguing idea, one he may have to test later on one who did not amuse him so.

Dancing gait carries him again to the side of the black dove, continuing their stroll as if he had never broken away to dance through the deep snow. He is not suited for such a home, drifts almost concealing his diminutive body in certain places. Undaunted, he keeps pace, simply bounding along the way foxes sometimes will, lunging from place to place rather than plowing a path. At least the fluff of his pelt prevents the cold from taking its toll. Still, he finds winter to be rather enjoyable, behaving with foal-like exuberance, for like a young foal it is his first Frostfall and he is enthralled.





Psyche the DarkEmpress Posts: 380
Deceased
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 8 (ages in Orangemoon) Buff: ENDURE
RayoDeSoleil
#7

"Which way is yours, Wing-Hunter? Where is it you wish to go? If you know not what you seek, you will surely wind up travelling in circles."

Circles. Perhaps that was all her life was, just wandering in bigger, smaller circles. To exit one circle right into another. After all, she had been born into a circle of violence. Her father had been determined to destroy all the inferiors, and had passed on this wish to her. He had ruined their family (or had he?) as she had ruined what could have been hers. His circle had been passed on to her. And here she was, trapped in the circle of destruction all over again. It was all she knew, all she would ever know. And she was running circles without her king, lost in the feeling of desertion. His fault or not, he was gone, and she couldn't bear the loss without someone to blame.

She was lost in thought for a moment, still following the odd little stallion. He leaped, foal-like, from drift to drift, spraying up little fluffs of snow and leaving a rather perplexing trail to any who might follow. They might assume that they followed a mare and her foal, such were their tracks: hers a straight line, evenly measured hoofprints, light footed and his prints in leaps and bounds, none quite the same. She remembered her days with a young foal, and she felt a yearning that drew her into the memory. But no, there was no point, she would never again have the feeling that she'd had in those days. She was to be queen, then, and her daughter a princess. She could have done anything - they could have done anything. But that was over now.

A sigh was heard, a strange sound from she who maintains such stoic control. "Perhaps you are right in that," she agreed absentmindedly. What was it that she sought? World domination? Well, she was on the path to that, she had set things in motion. If it were just that, would she be here, now, having this conversation, feeling so alone? No, there must be more that she pined for, more that she wanted. More and more she felt the desire to go back in time, to change her actions... but that was impossible - wasn't it? "I don't suppose walking in circles will rewind time?" she asked dryly, not really expecting and answer.


[W/C | 408]

Walk walk walk.
"Talk talk talk."
Think think think.


Chester Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#8


Chester
You are now invited to the other side of sanity





“Of course I’m right. Or maybe I’m not. After all, I’m quite mad.” Again, the uncanny smile splits his face, and he ceases his leaping mode of travel in favor of a skipping trot. Her question is carefully taken in and considered, run through possibilities. “If you walked them backwards, perhaps,” he muses. “Though Time isn’t very obliging here. He only likes to go the one way. Not nearly as fun as in Wonderland.” Chester offers a shrug, then resumes his cheery demeanor. “You could simply ask, if you wished.”

Something in the distance attracts the attention of the luridly colored beast, and without explanation he canters away in pursuit, leaving tiny tracks that could just as easily belong to a goat as to a unicorn. He returns soon after, prancing next to the mare again without apparent care for the fact he had just left. Such erratic behavior is common for the little stallion, and he pays no mind to his easily distracted nature. Sulfurous stare focuses on the black figure beside him, and he tilts his head in sudden puzzlement. “Do you know why the sea is boiling hot?” Awareness lights in his eyes as the faint scent of another unicorn drifts from her coat, one he knows, and sly chuckle escapes his dainty muzzle. “The Knight could tell you, I believe. The pale lord who wears his heart on his sleeve.”

OOC: So, so, sorry about the delay and the shortness, things have been a bit crazy. Next post will be better, I promise.




Psyche the DarkEmpress Posts: 380
Deceased
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 8 (ages in Orangemoon) Buff: ENDURE
RayoDeSoleil
#9

"Of course I'm right," he told her. "Or maybe I'm not. After all, I'm quite mad." Well, wasn't that reassuring. The shadow-mare watched the eccentric movements of the creature, orbs betraying no emotion. He was quite the oddity, and just a tad annoying, but oddly enough, his riddles seemed to make more sense than they didn't. What is the world coming to, if I am taking answers from this midget? she wondered wryly. "If you walked them backwards, perhaps," he answered her question, and she pondered this, fighting the urge to laugh at the rather ridiculous image that materialized in her mind. She looked at him with a shadow of disbelief coloring her features. Surely he wasn't really quite this mad.

But then, he had admitted to it, so with a mental shrug, the jackal accepted it. The suggestion that asking to travel back in time would be even the least bit helpful was absurd - wasn't it? It wasn't possible. Or was it? After all, the King had been sucked into a strange vacuum covering, perhaps, time and space. Who knows where, or when, he was now? Maybe it wasn't so strange a thought after all. "Somehow I doubt such a request would be answered, little friend." After all, it hadn't been the FrostHeart's decision to travel through the wormhole or the portal or whatever it was. Had it?

Suddenly, the stallion galloped off, leaving only the most miniscule of tracks behind. The dark fae watched him go, utterly bemused, but not feeling the need to follow. He had given her a headache, and it was a bit of a relief to get a break from his asinine riddles. But no, it wouldn't be that easy, for here he was again, returning with a rather smug look on his face - or was that simply his natural expression? "Do you know why the sea is boiling hot?" The question perplexed her. She had no answer. Irritation buzzed like a gnat in the back of her mind; she ignored it, hoping that he would be able to shed light on... something. He continued: "The Knight could tell you, I believe. The pale lord who wears his heart on his sleeve." This startled her. "Do you know the FrostHeart?" she demanded, daring to hope that the candy-colored steed would have some answers.


[W/C | 391]

Walk walk walk.
"Talk talk talk."
Think think think.


Valentine Posts: 203
Hidden Account
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.1 :: 12
teeroo
#10


The “pale lord” the little candy-colored unicorn was talking about smiled. He looked over desolate plain of ice and snow and snickered. There was no one else in sight, and he could see Chester from a mile away. Who couldn’t? The little ball of madness always amused him, no matter what had happened before he found him. He saw the black mare of beauty away with him. He wasn’t amused that Chester was bothering Psyche, so he thought he would join the conversation. He was behind them, but not far away enough to hear their conversation. Chester was loud anyways, and he decided he could not only see but also hear the little unicorn for miles. He stepped behind Psyche, and ran his horn softly at her side. He hoped to make her jump a bit, and he would give her a sincere smile in return, eye alight with kindness and laughter.
“Hello my beautiful one.” He nuzzled her, the greeting almost automatic now, hoping to feel her nuzzle him back. He turned his attention to Chester, smiling at the small creature. “And hello to you my friend. What is it you are up to today?” He walked up to the little unicorn and stood almost on top of him, so that he was between his legs. He bent his head down and spoke loud enough for Psyche to hear what he was saying.
“I thought I already told you why the sea is boiling hot, or do you not remember? How silly of you to forget such silly things. If you have any other riddles for me, please let me know, I’ll be able to answer each one.”

Strolling Along
Tying my Tongue
Gears are Shifting


I am no longer going into the cbox due to recent events. You can PM on this (Valentine's) account, go on my skype (teeroo777), or PM me on DA (teeroo). Thank you.


Credits to picture on page, since they won't show up since they are in black: http://twiwolf.deviantart.com/art/Free-Love-362011598

Chester Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#11


Chester
You are now invited to the other side of sanity





FrostHeart. The fabled ex-king. Why he has popped into the conversation confuses Chester, before the answer drifts to his mind. A simple misunderstanding of his riddle, the wrong answer leading her down a path he had not foreseen. He answers anyway, deciding that it may be amusing enough. “He fell down and broke his crown, and the cards came tumbling after.” The pony mulls over his own thoughts for a moment, then speaks again. “Does anyone know him, truly?”

Her error is shifting the conversation, however, and he offers a correction. “You think of the King, but I spoke of the Knight. I told you that you were lost.” There is no mockery in his tone though, just the statement of a fact. “A hint? He’s black and white and red all over.” Another face-cracking expression of glee appears as Valentine enters the equation physically. “And he happens to be here.”

His ‘friend’ speaks, and Chester rapidly responds. “Up to? How would one be up to anything? Gravity here is just as dull as time, and I doubt it will let anyone be up.” The heart-marked stallion comes closer, looming over the once-cat, but he remains unphased by the towering presence. “You did indeed tell me, but she has not, and answers are rarely the same. You see? Different, and changing, and altogether unpredictable. So, Knight, why is a raven like a writing desk?”

A few quick steps back carry him from the Knight, then the lunatic proceeds to caper about the much taller stallion, absolutely delighted by the turn of events. Bandersnatch, Knight of Hearts, and Cat, all here in this new world. Though his companions don’t know who they are. Mentally he frowns slightly, annoyed by their ignorance, but distraction is easy to find. This time, it is a scrubby bush that calls his thoughts away, fascination in its winter bareness. A skeleton, he thinks, all branches and no leaves. Cautiously he stretches out his neck, just barely prodding a twig with his nose before leaping back, filling the air with the laughter of a madman. “How marvelous.”




Psyche the DarkEmpress Posts: 380
Deceased
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 8 (ages in Orangemoon) Buff: ENDURE
RayoDeSoleil
#12

The FrostHeart had been preying on her mind of late, and so it would make sense that he had leaped first to her mind, despite the obvious hints that depicted a different figure. It was her mistake, and she accepted this, though she was not usually wrong, and being so soured her mood slightly. Still, the jester's words echoed in her mind. Does anyone know him? No, she realized suddenly. He was unknowable, a mystery even to those who supposedly knew him best. She had thought that she knew him, thought that she, of all of them, would be able to guess his next move, to understand what he was planning. But then he had surprised them all. Was it even his fault? She didn't know, but she didn't care. Everyone searches for a scapegoat, and in this case, the only one available was the Ice King.

Valentine appeared, the very knight that the little steed had been referring to (she understood that, now, after her idiotic blunder). His greeting was one of affection, that she returned, as much for appearance's sake that true emotion. Her orange gaze, however, never left the jester, who continues to speak in riddles. The shadow-mare doesn't handle riddling well, being a creature of a much more straightforward approach to problems, but she ponders his last question still, as he seemed to still be expected an answer. She was loathe to answer incorrectly again, though, and so she remained silent as the candy-colored stag turned his attention to the knight.


[W/C | 255]

Walk walk walk.
"Talk talk talk."
Think think think.


Valentine Posts: 203
Hidden Account
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.1 :: 12
teeroo
#13


He laughed at the unicorn, a big hearty one.
“How is a raven like a writing desk?” He repeated the words, thinking it over. He pondered this for a few moments, and knew the answer. “You with your trickery little one. I know why a raven is like a writing desk. They both have nothing in common at all, so there is no answer.” He grinned for he knew he was correct. “But tell me Cheshire Cat, and can you answer a riddle of my own doing?” He pondered for a few minutes, finally coming up with his own twisted riddle. “Tell why the bird flies when it knows it going to get shot by hunters?” He laughed again, wondering if the candy unicorn would come up the correct answer. "Maybe you can guess this too Psyche?" He looked at her, wondering if she could guess the answer as well.

Note: There is only one answer.

Strolling Along
Tying my Tongue
Gears are Shifting


I am no longer going into the cbox due to recent events. You can PM on this (Valentine's) account, go on my skype (teeroo777), or PM me on DA (teeroo). Thank you.


Credits to picture on page, since they won't show up since they are in black: http://twiwolf.deviantart.com/art/Free-Love-362011598

Chester Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#14


Chester
You are now invited to the other side of sanity





Wing-Hunter-Bandersnatch has not spoken since the arrival of Knight, and Chester shoots her a quick glance before returning his attention to Valentine, who is proving to be more interesting. The lady does not seem the type for riddles, like many others in Helovia, so he pays little mind to her silence.

The Knight answers the new riddle, and asks his own, but Chester is not content with the solution offered. “There is always an answer, Knight. Ravens, writing desks, even lost loves are all connected, should you know the correct poem.” He pauses, thinking of the rhyming story, and the man who penned it. “The author was mad, of course. All the best people are. Very strange man.”

“The bird, too, is mad. Or seeks death, though perhaps that is what makes it mad. Or perhaps it is terrifyingly sane. Shall we ask Alice?” Though, he has yet to discover Alice here. Could she still be lost in Wonderland? Losing her head could certainly prevent her from travelling, at least for a while. Nothing at home ever lost their heads for long, if at all. How else would there be anyone left? A speculative look appraises the two unicorns with him, wondering what would happen should they be beheaded. Would this logic-driven dimension let them survive, or would they topple over like a house of cards in the wind? Another potential experiment to be carried out another time. For now, he was too amused to risk the loss of his current company.





Psyche the DarkEmpress Posts: 380
Deceased
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 8 (ages in Orangemoon) Buff: ENDURE
RayoDeSoleil
#15

True, she hadn't much patience for the riddles offered by the small jester. She hadn't the patience for much of anything, these days. She hadn't the patience for the herd, who were so helpless in the frigid winter, so dependent on someone, anyone to be capable. She hadn't the patience for disappearing stallions, as she had come to the rather impromptu conclusion. She hadn't the patience for the adoration of stallions, or one stallion in particular, it wasn't quite clear which. Well, that wasn't entirely true, or she would have sent him on his merry way. Perhaps the dark-hearted fae wasn't so very brusk as she seemed. Regardless, she hadn't the patience for riddles, and once the riddles had been exchanged, she inserted her own opinion, as she was rather apt to do.

"If there is indeed always an answer, as you say, then let it be that both ravens and writing desks sit on sticks and serve me no purpose," she snapped. Of course, she would approach it in this way. If she could not use it, it wasn't important to her. All the best people were mad, he said. Well, that might be true. Some would consider her quite mad, and she considered herself quite grand. And so he regained some of her amusement. So fickle her moods were, so easily changed. And Valentine had asked another question, begun another riddle. Lobes flicked backwards, a hint of minor annoyance, not at him, but at the situation. Perhaps she ought to simply carry on wandering, lost, or not lost, depending on who you ask.

"The bird flies because it knows its path. Regardless of the hunter, the bird must do as his nature dictates. Which is what we all must do.


[W/C | ---]

Walk walk walk.
"Talk talk talk."
Think think think.



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