the Rift


What is lost in the frost... [zephyr drop]

Random Event Posts: 1,286
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
#1
Is revealed in the thaw.



The end of frostfall draws ever closer, and the snow atop the highest mountain begins to melt, the prickly, fractal edges of the snowflakes turning back into water. Tiny buds of grass fought against the white blanket to seek the sun, and they had begun to turn the tides of the earthen war. Apart from the shoots of green, an odd, ovular rock at the farthest corner of the field could be seen, saving from the thundering hooves only by its location. The egg sat perilously on an unsteady edge of the cliff, and any who ventured too close would find themselves plummeting hundreds of feet to their rocky, violent death below.

From the size, shape and color of the creamy white egg, you realize that it is obviously not from a dragon. However, it is much too large to be from any natural bird. Around the egg lay shells of his hatched brethren, and a few wildly colorful feathers, leaving you with the understanding that this lonely egg held a zephyr. Would it still be alive? Had it survived the winter?

The first question remained before the viability of the egg could be tested; how would you save the egg from the perilous cliff?




Common, Zephyr Drop
- You are able to choose which of the four types should you win
- This is not a puzzle drop but decided on the response and dice roll
- You post as if any character who has gathered is in the group like a normal thread
- Only a pegasus can bond to a zephyr
- You have 96 hours (4 days) to respond before new responses are closed

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

Kamien
It is not rational to believe in miracles, for miracles are by nature irrational.


The precarious situation didn't go unnoticed. It almost screamed for someone to come and pick it up, the strange rock on the edge. And he would love to aid it, but it was placed in such a way that walking wasn't going to suffice. Any earthbound creature would find it impossible to reach, and the shuffling of snow and rubble would most likely dislodge the orb and make it fall.

Kamien stretched his wings in thought, head turning to let a vivid blue eye examine the appendages. The dusty black feathers shimmered ever so faintly in opal hues even at the faint light of late winter, they were large and well maintained - but would they hold? He flapped them experimentally, harder and harder, faster and faster, until he surely had set a small tornado in motion somewhere in the world. Maybe.. The gaze of the youngster turned back to the orb, measuring the distance. It just might work.


Svetlana Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#3

SVETLANA the STORMCHASER
If I could, I would fly far above the earth to the stars itself, never set foot on the frozen sod far below, and remain aloft even in the darkest of storms. My wings are massive, hardly frozen due to being born in the coldest of land where adaption has provided our pegasi with ice-proof, water-resistant wings, and I often cruise high above the world or the Windtossed Foothills, enjoying the stately relaxation of gliding, slipping onto thermals and rising, dropping into downdrafts that send me spiraling down smoothly and swiftly, wings extending for maximum lift, primaries readjusting to conform to flying conditions, adapting the shifting changes in pressure and wind. Yes, I love my ability to fly, yet I fear I am quite often alone, for the Windtossed Foothills are predominantly unicorns and horses, even if they do support all horses. Flight is a way to get rid of excess energy, to forget the worrisome thoughts being a leader brings, lets me live fully in the present, instead of worrying about wars and alliances and the ex-Edge. It's rather silly, seeing as I had been so eager to take on the responsibility of herd, and now wondering if I had really been as fit to the role of leader as I had thought. I share responsibility with two others, two other strong leaders, who sometimes makes me secretly doubt my leadership abilities, even if I successfully have recruited several horses in just a week alone. This sets me thinking, to the little filly I had found, broken and battered down, the one who had called me an angel.

I wheel downwards, primaries shifting, and give a strong beat to keep myself from falling downwards too quickly. I was on my way to the Veins of the Gods, but yet I felt I needed a break. A break to rest my wings and give my legs solid earth to canter on, or rather icy snow compacted down, even though everything is dripping as spring's heat comes. It was, then, no surprise when I decided to land upon a meadow at the peak of a mountain was an excellent idea. With the ease of a practiced aerial flight veteran, I landed, wings back-stroking with massive deep strokes, black feathers cupping the air, hind feet touching down upon the crisp soggy white, before dropping to my fores. I notice with one black eye of another small pegasus, who seems to be investigating something among the cliffs of the mountain edge. Landlocked horses would have to come up the winding paths, but as a pegasus, I was not chained to the ground, unlike those poor beasts. With wingbeats powerful enough to kick up snow flying into the air, I take off again, pausing by the small colt. My wings are beating strongly, leaving me hovering, for I am light enough to hover, if not easily.

My coal black eyes rest on a small white egg, clearly some sort of bird's, for it does not retain the jewel-like color of a dragon's. Immediately, my curiosity is aroused- a zephyr? Jewel-colored feathers lie around it, and there are white remnants of broken shells around it. Perhaps. I give a couple of powerful wingstrokes, drifting a little closer. Carefully, very carefully, I flutter a little closer, nudging it with my muzzle. The earth trembles under the slightest of movements from the egg. Shit! No, don't do anything to make it fall! Considering the dilemma carefully, I fly up, dropping my head and tucking up my legs. Stupid as it may look, I hope it works. My muzzle tenderly brushes the smooth egg, and my wings flap hard to keep me aloft, and I begin to attempt to push it away from the edge, roll safely onto a flatter area. Then I flap up, studying the enigma again. I wouldn't want to attempt more rolling it. Maybe if I were to grasp it between my forelegs... or. Settling down very softly upon the narrow edge, I imagined what I would do- slip the egg between my legs, tuck my legs up and nestle it to my chest, and flap hard. Then, I could perhaps fly to safer ground, somehow settling it on the ground. Yes, that's what I would do! Now, I only had to follow the motions.

do you really understand where you're going with me?
let me tell you
you just have to trust me

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

A . v . i . r . A
pegasus | mare | 15.2hh | 8 years | unclaimed


Too much was happening, from the meeting in the Steppe with Thor (the darn pegasus with wings too small to carry him) and the serpent in the Dragons Throat. Meeting the lovely Abyss and then wandering into the Grey's meeting. Avira was a lucky mare to call them family. She needed to do something in return for them. Something to prove her worth. So she set off in a random direction. The scents of the fields where she had met the large black stallion drew her attention downwards. The rocky edges of grass a sweet sight to please her eye.

The chill of Frostfalls air becoming ever so pleasant again. Spring was near, the proof in the speaking grass. That screamed to rise beneath the pelt of white snow. Bottoms even began to grow lush and juicy, instead of growing dried and hard. The edge of a cliff caught her eye because an odd shape lay in the rocks and bits of grass. Along with two other pegasus. Avira's wings tilted, head shifting sideways. Sailing downwards she slowly began to circle it quietly. Hoping not to disturb the treacherous rocks or an angry mother. The blue and brown mare stared at the other two pegasus. Her main attention focused on Svetlana. A zephyr egg lay alone with shells from its other relatives abandoned. It was alone.

A motherly instinct knocked her heart around and almost felt like her chest had been squeezed. Avira's eyes saddened with sorrow. Flapping her wings she rounded up to the side of the fields. Far from the cliff side and watched carefully. Standing there for moments watching for a parent to arrive and take care of the egg. No one came though, feeling it as her duty the two-toned brown mare stepped forth. Acknowledging the works of Svetlana, "That is a good idea, I'll assist, as I'm sure you do not want the youngster to even have the slightest ability of dying." a warm smile present upon her lips. "If you could get it a little closer I could guide the egg with my wings." extending the blue tips as far as she could. Svetlana's nose still brushing the egg and rolling it slowly towards her. Once the egg was in reach Avira dropped her wings to the rocks. Make a barrier for Svetlana to keep the egg coming safely. The white mare was doing some hard work, the least the mustang could do was help.



Azulee Posts: 62
Dragon's Throat Warrior atk: 5.0 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.0
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.2 hands :: 6 years :: Orangemoon HP: 65.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Valda
#5


Sunlight seeped down from the heavens in a great, luminous cascade, and it bathed the lightning child who frolicked so insouciantly beneath it in a shower of idyllic warmth. Azulee unfurled her mahogany wings, basking jubilantly in the fair weather, lobed ears pricked forward with interest as lanky limbs strummed softly against the thawing terrain. Eyes of vibrant cobalt peered out pensively ahead of her, and with a unique sort of lightheartedness implicit of youth, she rejoiced in her freedom, prancing through emerald vegetation with blithesome unconcern. Small hooves sunk ever slightly into the moistened earth as small pockets of snow began to dissolve. Massive clouds loomed in the distance, their wispy contours swimming slowly through the sky like the masts of giant ships.

She was headed toward a gathering in the distance, keen on discovering what had gravitated the group of pegasus. As a gentle zephyr breathed slowly across the field, the filly bounded forth, wings outstretched as she allowed the fledged appendages to glide across the steady current, her mane billowing softly in her wake. Flight was a rather novel and daunting concept to the filly, and yet the desire to fly had come about as naturally as the need to breathe. This heavenly field was the closest she'd been to the sky thus far, for despite testing the skies a few times in the Dragon's Throat, her attempts had been low to the ground and for short distances - more so leisurely coasting on the breeze than full on flight. Still, she loved the sensation, relishing in the cool breath of the wind as it rushed past her roaned physique, her curiosity piqued.

She paused before them, observing as the three pegasi struggled to retrieve what appeared to be an egg. She gazed upon the artifact exuberantly, before deciding to aid them, and rather boldly the young filly departed from the ground, wings pumping forcefully as she attempted to help guide the egg. She daren't look down. Her only concern was getting the egg to safety. She thought back to the hellhound Cirrus had recently acquired, pondering how wonderful it would be if she too could adopt such a companion. She was determined on making this bird her own, whatever it may be.


Sierra Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#6
Sierra flew towards the field. Frost blanketed the earth, but small buds were beginning to pop up from the snow. Sierra questioned why she was here. Something had drawn her, and she spotted the reason. A creamy egg was placed on an unsteady cliff. Sierra noticed multiple other horses. Sierra wondered how she could get the egg. If I run too close to the edge, the egg shall fall..... but I have wings. I suppose I can dive and get the egg, right? But the other horses, the gods must want to wait for more to arrive. I suppose I can just circle round here for a bit. Sierra continued to fly in circles near the egg. She had heard of a zephyr before, and this was one she wanted. Sierra's patience snapped and she shot down towards the earth, swiftly but gently towards the egg. She tucked her wings in a bit, allowing her to go steadily. She then snapped her wings out and came closer to he egg, she hoped the gods would allow her this egg.

OOC:
Word Count: 181
Ascended Helovian

Midas the Gallant Posts: 1,164
Deceased
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 14.3 hh :: Immortal :: Soul is 7 (FF) Buff: HUNTER
Fina :: Common Zephyr :: Phoenix & Wakiya & Neve :: Common Zephyr :: Arctic Angel
#7
Relief was on approach—each breath, each heartbeat; proved evermore that his lord was once again working powerful healing magic. Magic, that would warm the land in a caressing embrace of sweet smells and promising days. He awoke on a high place in Helovia, body lay across its side under the protection of a frostbitten cherry blossom. Empty branches offered to be a meager elemental shield at best—but he was thankful for it.

Sensitive senses flinched, ears swiveled when drums of wing beats sparked knowledge; it was ruckus that had taken this weary traveler from his afternoon slumber, and it was that same disturbance that made him curiously blink and twist skull with hopes of finding a source.

It seemed a gathering had commenced. Winged sisters and brothers were gathering along a corner of the meadow. Why? He mused. Brows furrowed together, continued wonderment forcing him to stand and shake away the dirt and snow he had slept upon.

No bother was given to prep his wings for such short distance, instead—Midas choose to close the gap by briskly trotting over; each step caused his weighed collar to bang against chest with familiar taps. A throaty nicker sprang from throat, politely announcing his presence when close enough to be heard.

Five had gathered. Two where decked in unfamiliar patterns and fragrances he couldn’t recognize; loners, intellect supplied without reserve. Two others happened to be of his clan, a young daughter of his revered mentor and a citizen he had seen only in passing patrols. Golden steps paused when soil softened and ground threatened to expose his bulk to what lay unseen. At first the general was distracted by the gathering company, he didn’t take notice to what they seemed to be fussing over for a matter of seconds. Gaze trailed up to an ivory colored mistress; recognizing her as a Foothill by taste alone.

She and the others seemed to be circling and nudging. Something. Neck stretched outward to permit him a better look, Midas peered intently at what they nosed. Orbs widened when realization of unspoken answer followed. An egg. Intrigued by the situation, he gave the fragile creature a once over.

Its smooth texture and creamy color looked natural enough; though its size was way beyond mortal avian. He had often heard of mythical eggs during days filled with youthful stories his dam would tell to pass the time. Considering the gathering of Pegasus, this apparently wasn’t the everyday goose egg that one could find in passing a brook.

It also seemed they had a reason for swooning over the creature, fortune had granted an unborn soul no luck it seemed. Siblings and parents had flown away and abandoned the unhatched child as a littering runt. To make matters direr the egg happened to be nested on an unstable section of earth, no creature could place hoof or paw upon said soil without risking a tumbling. After quietly observing a moment he decided to also pitch in, but in a different way.

Instead of using inborn advantage to reach the egg through flight as the others did he remained fixed upon the ground; strings of earth magic rested in his bowels—each thread just waiting for permission to be used. He summoned it now.

Tugging at earth behind him, each battered granule came to life and glided from stable ground to pool at his feet and slither along his lightly colored ankles. Midas knew if he could get enough sand under control, he might be able to levitate it as a bulk, and slowly slide it under said egg; like a conveyer belt his talent could make the task of rolling easier on those that trailed above.


[Image: 5388c9b80fe59]

Irrydae Posts: 111
Hidden Account
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16.2hh :: Seven
paddeh
#8


Creamy white and dark purple tresses hung limply against Irrydae's figure, curling lightly at the ends. The wind swirled around her, tugging her, pushing her towards something… but what? It wanted her to go somewhere- she could tell. It would pause before starting up again, light dust-like piles of snow billowing and curling around her, power clinging to her legs slightly. Large golden mirror eyes sparked with curiosity. 'Let your mind run wild, Irry, take chances.' Her mother would tell her. Her whole life was based around those small phrases her mother would always tell her- remind her. It was as if she ingrained them in her mind… irry appreciated them now, while as a little kid hearing it so often was sometimes a bother. Irrydae missed her mothers voice, her eyes that showed she did care- down deep. Her voice was becoming harder to remember, the slight harmony didn't fill her mind anymore, and Irry was grasping to it like a kid with their beloved blanket. She was fighting so hard to not forget, the cling onto the memories, she was fighting the fact she would have to let it go. Some day, some day.

A hefty tug drew the mare out of thought, the wind pushing her harder, and she picked up her slender pillars, pulling herself into a graceful trot. Dew brushed against her hooves and hocks, clinging to them and chilling her. She flicked her tail, sending the hairs in an arc before they settled again. The wind had nearly stopped- just a normal breeze now and faint scents were filling her nostrils. Irry worked her way forward and not before long came up to a growing group of pegasi. There were some younger ones standing further away then the ones that were in flight- surrounding something. What was it?

Irrydae nickered softly, letting the others know her presence. She outstretched her wings, lifting herself into the air to get a better look. A pearly white egg lay on the edge of the dangerous cliff. It was an egg of a zephyr. Memories of her childhood flooded back, her mother telling her about all the companions and the mythical ones that weren't often seen. Irry had always dreamed of having her own zephyr companion, and this was her chance. Two were trying to push it along, away from danger. Eggs were not always smooth without bumps- and it could easily roll the wrong way and down to it's death below. The purple dipped mare approached the two guiding it. "I think you two have a good idea- but it might be best to all group together and discuss the best way to get this egg out of danger instead of everyone trying their own method with little or no communication," Irry said lightly, hoping they would agree with her. If everyone was just trying to rescue the egg themselves with their own plan, there was a high chance something was going to go wrong. Irry beat her wings steadily, keeping herself aloft as she tried to think of a plan to compromise to the group. The two mares had a good idea of rolling it, and maybe everyone could gather around and if it rolls one way we make sure it doesn't roll off. If there was a safe way to pick it up, that would work too. Maybe intertwine leave and branches and make a cradle to place the egg in and then fly it to safety? The group just needed to all listen to each other ideas and come up with a plan together, to make sure the egg makes it to safety.

Sohalia the Transcended Posts: 477
Outcast atk: 4 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.3 hh :: 10 (ages in Orangemoon) HP: 67 | Buff: NOVICE
Astraeus :: Common Zephyr :: Wakiya ChaoticMelodies
#9

It was dark, and I was running. Spindly legs blurred beneath me, my tiny wings uselessly clamped to my side. It was a blind dash that I took, away from the noise and the screams. I could feel thorns and brambles biting into my side, ripping many little openings in my tender, youthful flesh. A light appeared before me, and with a childish terror I pushed myself faster, trusting that beyond the light, I would find my salvation...

I woke with a start, my bodice damp with sweat. The wind, frigid even as the arrival of Birdsong grew closer, nipped at me with a vengeance, and I found myself shivering. It had been many moons since I had had the running dream. I hadn't missed it a bit, reliving the night of my parents' deaths. It's only a dream, I try to tell myself, muttering uncomprehensibly under my breath. But it's a lie - it's a memory, a very vivid one that likes to visit me in the deep of night. I wish it were only a nightmare.

I am prone on the ground, still recovering from the terror that had rendered me frozen in place. But I know that if I don't get up, if I don't move, my body will begin to merge with the cold earth and snow beneath me. I must keep warm, particularly given that my pelt is, unfortunately, soaked through with my own fear. I lean up, and snow drips from my side, sending trickles of icy water in rivulets. Forelegs are planted before me, and I lunge to my hooves with a grunt of effort. I shake myself, flicking my wings about to dislodge the bits of ice that have stuck to them. I look around me. I am rather fond of these fields, finding their beauty unmatched even in the depths of Frostfall. I can't wait to return during Birdsong, when I am sure the field will become a beautiful, multicolored sea of flowers. I smile at the thought, recovering now from my nightmare.

What happened in my past is over now, and it is time for me to move on. I push aside the thought that my subconscious refuses to allow me to do so and instead allow my attention to be caught b the sounds of flapping wings and voices. It is unnecessary for me to launch myself into the air simply to investigate the source of the mixed noises, so I set out on foot. I am immediately intrigued by the gathering of Pegasi, and I don't immediately see the source of their interest. I pick up the pace, my hoofbeats crunching in the snow as I trot forward, auds pricked. I whinny a soft greeting as I approach, not having the desire to startle any of them, but I do not recognize anyone. Confusion colors my thoughts, but still I press on. Becoming a part of a group is difficult, but I suppose I will have to get used to it if I am to meet Rowan in the Dragon's Throat to join her herd.

I study the scene before me. An egg sits precariously on the egde of the cliff, seemingly abandoned save for those gathered around me. It is a scene filled with chaos to my newcomer's gaze: there are seven other Pegasi besides myself. Three stand, and four are in flight. One, a mare of my own coloring except with wings dark as night, nudges the egg; another mare attempts to guide it with a wing. I gasp. This is a horrible idea with, clearly, very little planning. Do they want the egg to plummet to an early demise? A violet-marked mare that I had arrived to stand beside speaks, seeming to voice my own opinion. "...it might be best," she was saying, "to all group together and discuss the best way to get this egg out of danger..." I remain silent, not trusting myself to speak, though I take note of a stallion not far from me who seems to be magicking the ground at his feet. Perhaps this would be a more efficient way to cradle the egg, rather than a mare's wing, which can so easy slip or shift. I find myself wishing for magic of my own that I may use to help the steed. But alas, I haven't a drop of it, and so I'll use my mind. Drawing a deep breath, I make my own thoughts heard.

"I second that motion," I say, "and might suggest a more stable balancing point. Good sir," I address the sand-shifter now, "might you be able to form a kind of wall to shield the egg from the edge, so that the kind lady nudging it along might not drop it?" It is unexplainable, really, that I feel the need to help this group of strangers. But something about the egg, so small and yet - I notice for the first time - remarkably large, for an egg, calls to me, and I find myself wanting to protect it, if not to claim it for my own. I am not a selfish fae, by any means, but I do have my desires every now and then, and the desire to save and hold onto this egg is a rather strong one. Odd, but then, the egg itself is odd, and special, and quite beautiful. I doubt I will be able to keep it, but it is a nice thought nonetheless.


[W/C | 921]

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

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Random Event Posts: 1,286
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
#10



Kamien, Azulee, Midas, and Sohalia move forward.

The whirlwind of air from Kamien's wings unsettled the egg but also the earth around it. Azulee's help in moving the egg served to be instrumental in its survival. Midas pushed it with his earthen help, pushing the egg onto solid, safe ground, but the gods also favored Sohalia's idea of guarding the egg with a wall. An shifting cloud guarded the edges, and should they try and test it's strength, they would find it softer than any blanket of grass and more gentle than the first touch of a loving parent.

Now that the egg was safe, choices had to be made about its viability. Despite the type of creature that lay within, the egg needed warmth and incubation. The remaining four would have to choose how to give that warmth.


You have 72 hours to respond.

Azulee Posts: 62
Dragon's Throat Warrior atk: 5.0 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.0
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.2 hands :: 6 years :: Orangemoon HP: 65.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Valda
#11


The young flicka assumed the role previously occupied by Svetlana, and with gentle, goading nudges she gradually guided the egg to safety with the aid of the General and the ashen mare. She could hardly disguise the pride she felt, beaming in a radiant, childish way as she gazed upon the unhatched creature. Her small chest was puffed out as she watched it curiously, wondering what sort of creature may stir just beneath the thin layer of its exterior mantle. She did not hesitate to sniff it, and as she pressed her muzzle to the egg for a second time, she noticed now cool it felt, when before her attention had been absorbed in other, more pressing matters.

Unsatisfied, she raised her petite face from the egg, ears slouched back as she contemplated what to do before remembering the heat which emanated from her static animations. As the thought oozed forth she pricked her ears forward. She hardly acknowledged the others surrounding her, focusing hard on evoking her magic. She closed her eyes and the lightning which etched its way across her lanky physique radiated dimly, her mane and tail rising with small jolts of static. Soon enough, a few feet away, a cluster of chaotic electricity hovered in the air until animalistic features burgeoned forth from the shapeless mass to exemplify a large bird.

It shot through the air toward the egg, and hovered not far away - the young belle's perhaps misguided attempt at keeping it warm. The filly then lowered her small body, knees folded beneath her as she huddled it between her wings. Her warmth was not quite as strong as an older, larger pegasus, and she peered up toward the others. "We have to keep it warm somehow." She spoke with a vernal feebleness, yet her tone alluded toward the boldness which lingered inside her. She brought the static bird closer to where it almost touched, but not quite.

Ascended Helovian

Midas the Gallant Posts: 1,164
Deceased
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 14.3 hh :: Immortal :: Soul is 7 (FF) Buff: HUNTER
Fina :: Common Zephyr :: Phoenix & Wakiya & Neve :: Common Zephyr :: Arctic Angel
#12
Golden with fate and glittering in the sunlight, sand pooled beneath their egg. Taking only a second in conforming its shape and create a bowl like structure of protection. A path of smooth granules led the way to more solid ground, voices rose with attention falling not into distraction; other mares around him quoted their outputs and ideas. One with the suggestion to form a makeshift wall, “Good idea,” he thought plainly.

Each hidden tendon along throatlatch grew rigid with exported effort; mind requested the pulsing sand to shift upward. Bending walls formed on either side of the pathway. Her ideal brought to life. With help from above, their talents merged as a group until all landed upon safer ground. Just the hints of a smile forged as his efforts proved useful and the egg bounced onto firm earth.

Softly grunting Midas withdrew his talents from settled spirit with gentle tugs, each smooth particle fell away and landed tenderly beside. A tiny golden desert surrounded ivory and the little Pegasus that now lay beside, she fashioned a creature from storm and voiced a need to keep the egg warm. “Well,” he thought, “Eggs belong in nests.” Avians often laced their nests with down and other soft, warm things to better protect unhatched younglings.

Smiling down at said child the general uttered, “I shall build it something for warmth.” Frame turned toward the heavenly field, things rested beneath the snow; warm things. Leaves, and soft thistle heads, twigs with velvet bark. He set out to find things like this, fashioning them together with reliance on teeth and slight help in magic. Once he gathered many soft things like moss and the outer layers of new spring shoots, Midas gathered them together and set toward the task of weaving.

Using magic only a little he steadily weaved the threads together, lining the bottom with moss and loose feathers from his own wings. Turning muzzle upon his own belly Midas plucked free some of his fur to help line the bottom and make the sides softer. As he weaved the fatherly man wondered if he could raise the nest somehow to keep the egg from freezing upon cold ground and rendering his nest useless. Another idea formed and he began to weave remaining twigs and sticks together, fashioning limbs and a wall like cover until he had built a cradle of sorts.

Grasping the top with a sturdy handle he had created for the purpose of carrying, Midas heaved his creation over to the egg and nudged it forward in offering. Sands pooled beneath him again, his magic would again easily lift the egg.

[Image: 5388c9b80fe59]

Sohalia the Transcended Posts: 477
Outcast atk: 4 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.3 hh :: 10 (ages in Orangemoon) HP: 67 | Buff: NOVICE
Astraeus :: Common Zephyr :: Wakiya ChaoticMelodies
#13

Sand pools around my hooves as the egg, protected by my suggested wall, comes rolling to safety. The little filly, name still unknown to me, nudges it gently, bringing it closer still, and I can't help but smile - for the child to have such motherly instincts so young bodes well for her future. She seems to concentrate on something, and I watch as a ball of electricity forms in the air. Unease washes over me as she tightens the globe, drawing it ever closer to the fragile egg. "Careful," I warn her. "You don't want to cook it." She is kneeling as I speak, holding the egg in the warmth of her wings. "We have to keep it warm somehow," she informs us with the innocence of youth, and I smile kindly at her.

"That we do, youngling," I agree. I barely notice the stallion take his leave. Instead, my focus is on the little fae and her prize. I consider, then move to her side, folding my legs gracefully beneath me. I tell her what I'm doing as I do it: "If you hold it with your wings, and I shelter you with mine, perhaps we will give off twice the warmth." I spread my right wing, stretching it to cover her small bodice and, with it, the egg, tucking it tightly against her. I can feel her warmth against my side, and I am sure that this will at least warm the egg somewhat, if not as much as it ought to.

The stallion returns, carrying in his mouth what looks to be a makeshift basket-nest, created by weaving leaves and sticks together. I nod my approval almost without realizing that I make the motion. He sets it down, offering it to us, and I am struck with an idea. "Perhaps instead of a handle, you could weave a strap to fit around the neck and a wing? That way, one could carry it under one's wing, to give it warmth." The picture in my mind is simple: a basket held in place by a vine, tied around my nape and crossing under a wing. I would hold the basket in the fold of my wing, cradling it close to my body and protecting it from the harsh wind. It would do well to keep the egg warm, indeed.

And then there was the problem of getting the egg into the basket to begin with. After a moment of consideration, I remember the stallion's sand shifting - he would likely just lift it gently in. And the sand would help keep it warm, provided it was nested close to a heat source (such as one's body). I twist my neck, pulling a few downy feathers from my wing near the shoulder, and add my own offering to the basket-nest. It stings a bit, but I feel as though I deserve to add something of mine to the pot. After all, I am every bit as emotionally involved as the others, even though I couldn't magic up lightning or create walls of sand.


[W/C | 515]

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

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Official Posts: 847
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Stallion :: Equine :: ::
Official
#14

Congratulations to Midas on your new Zephyr egg!

A small breeze moved through the fields, the song of the winds and earth ringing clearly for all to hear. Because of Midas' keen and sharp efforts, the egg would survive. A voice rang out the victory of the painted stallion, alerting the other winged creatures that he had earned the egg with his hard work.

From this point forward, Midas would have to hunt and protect the egg for the two weeks while it was in its final stages of growth.



Congratulations! Your two weeks begins from this post. To begin hunting, post anywhere and tag an RE in your thread; please make sure to link your hunting thread as a response to this drop.


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