High above, the white crow soared on an updraft. The bitter wind slipped between his feathers, chilling down to the bone. He banked his wings, slowly spiraling down to the place her had first entered Helovia. He landed in a small clearing in the Threshold, stretching his wings wide before closing them gently to his sides. His black primary feathers are the only thing that made him stand out in the white background. His silver eyes squinted, and he dropped his head as a gust of wind blinded him with snow. Frozen breath rose in wisps around his flared nostrils.
Silence greeted him here in the opening to Helovia, quiet and lonely. He paced forward, neck high and proud, sloping to his strong chiseled face. He pranced through the drifts, enjoying the softness of the snow below his obsidian hooves. His mouth was open, but no sound came from it. The only sound he could make was that of his hooves sinking into the white. It was days like this he wished he had a partner. The Grey was proving to be a loyal band, but he felt isolated due to his lack of a voice. It was hard to communicate when all you could do was listen. A few birds flew above him, their shadows matching his black marking in the slope of his back.
"talk talk talk talk "
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WE ONLY EXIST IN TERMS OF THIS CONFLICT
In the zone where black and white clash
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Resurgere | Wroth
| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 16.2hh :: Seven |
| paddeh |
Irrydae's gold dust pools looked down at the ground below cautiously, deep golden daggers piercing through the snow with each step. Wings were untucked, dragging against the hock-level snow. Colder as it was early morning, Irry shook lightly, rubbing her maw against her front legs. She stamped down the snow, poising herself as she drew back before launching herself off the cliff. She quickly spread her wings, lofting herself leisurely higher into the air, wings beating almost silently. Soft wing pushed against her as she soared above the threshold, her stars glimmering, still not fully visible as the sun was rising, but easier then midday.
Irry narrowed her eyes, looking below her as she slowed. Two faint black splotches among the white caught her attention and she lowered herself, planting her hooves as she landed and picking up her legs as she moved forward to the stallion. She nickered softly as she approached, nodding to the white stag before her.
[ OOC: Sorry it's short, was just something really quick ]
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The world held it's silence despite his light frolicking, the soft crust of ice resting on the snow giving way to his heavy hooves. He enjoyed the sound the snow made- it was as if it was speaking back to him. In a world full of voices, from the creatures around him to the creaking of the trees to the gurgle of the brooks, it had taken most of his life to give up the bitterness he felt that he couldn't even laugh. But someday he would find the gift of speech. Someday the gods would smile upon him, open the door to be more than silence at the back of the herd. In his playing and contemplation, he hadn't noticed the mare landing a bit away and approaching him.
Crow halted at the sound of nicker. His head snapped, and before him approached a beautiful mare, her coat seeming to be made of the summer night sky, the undersides of her wings seeming to hold their own galaxies. What wasn't a replica of the astros was an ashen grey. Never before had he seen any creature with such markings. Beautiful, he thought to himself. He now felt silly for playing like a colt in the snow. He gave a silent laugh, a smile pulling at his lips. This isn't the first time he had been caught dancing through the snow by a mare. Oh well, in a bitter world, one must find happiness somewhere.
He slowly approached her, dropping his head to seem calm, unguarded, nonthreatening. His silver eyes met her golden orbs, and a smiled played on his lips. He opened his maw, releasing a soft puff of breath instead of words. He hoped she had smarts to match her beauty, and perhaps eventually she would gather he was mute. He soon was directly before her.
Extending his muscled neck, he touched the center of her forehead with the tip of his muzzle. It was his silent hello, a bit of the sign language that had been taught to him by his mother. He wished he could speak to her, tell her how beautiful she was. Never before had he been so captivated.
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WE ONLY EXIST IN TERMS OF THIS CONFLICT
In the zone where black and white clash
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Resurgere | Wroth
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