![[Image: corsairtable.png]](http://imageshack.us/a/img833/5633/corsairtable.png)
West. Judging by the burning light of Orion he was heading in the right direction, maybe if he was born a smarter lad he'd of tied a compass into his salted tail. Alas, intelligence was a gift not given to a pirate and instead several corks once stoppered in rum bottles clattered together in long tangled mane. Highlights of an amusing life in the embrace of rowdy mares and wild nights, the sounds of lapping shores as the boat rocked back an' forth. It was with a shiver in his step that Corsair, swashbuckling womanizer, set hoof onto grainy sand and embraced the clear air of the sea. A heart beat at a comfortable rate, all was right this night.
He moved at ease to the shoreline, brushing gently across the shallow waters and leisurely strolled down the beach. Idly thinking about his past excursions and the laughs he'd had. Pools of ocean blue lit up at his old friends, faces long in the past resurfaced and he felt a pang of loneliness. They had been through much, fought brilliantly, loved outrageously and lived a short happy life. As one adventure ends another begins yet the sequel was taking its time to pick up the pace. Corsair had never felt so forlorn and hopeless, no danger... No mares. No gold. No horizon to catch before sundown. It was a terrible feeling.
The carefree Corsair, once steed of a formidable human pirate, had lost his rightful owner and had been set free. Helovia would play host to his next chapters yet what he would find here he did not know. Lobes flicked forwards and he came to a slow halt, watching the sea's ripples in the night, wishing that someone would come greet him. Take the loneliness away from his heart and grace his lips with laughter.
Take what you can, give nothing back.
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 The sweet birdsong moonlight kissed her golden hued skin as the fair haired babe stepped lightly upon the sands. Waves lapped gently at the shore, now and then washing over her small, rounded hooves, a gentle smile painted on her tiny maw. For once unaccompanied, Eris had left her tiring family to stretch her long, slender legs. The cover of the night had been the perfect opportunity. She would not have minded the company of her brother, but for a while, she was tired of chasing after him everywhere and decided she needed room to breathe.
While the princess was not aware, this was the same site upon which she had been conceived more than a year past. Now, Princess Frost was making her first acquaintances with birdsong, three months old and already quite the cunning child. Unlike her immature brothers, she mused to herself. A snort escaped her, and she shook her small nape, the breeze tugging at the sprouting mane that grew there. Large, violet eyes scoured the beach as she strode around a large rock-formation, spotting someone there. Full of confidence, the small one does not cease her movement but rather directs it towards this stranger form, growing as she closes in on it.
A grown stallion, and at that a potential danger if her dam was to be believed. Luckily, Eris did not give much for anything her mother would say to her, feeling a growing antipathy toward the mare that had given birth to her. Fluttering her pale lashes, she watched as he came to a halt and looked out over the waters, studying his formation. Eris did not know much about stallions and mares and adult life in general, but she was starting to grasp more and more. She knew, for instance, that she was beautiful and had been from birth. Stallions appreciated beauty, she had deduced, watching her dam and her interactions with the opposite gender.
Folding her orange-tipped wings neatly on her small back, she slowed to a walk when she came closer, diverting her eyes in the same direction as his. Finally stopping, the filla stole a glance at the stallion through large, glistening eyes, before speaking. “The waves. Do you hear them whispering?”
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| Mare :: Unicorn :: 16 hh :: 5 |
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Itzal :: White Tiger :: Hypnotize
roni |
12-01-2012, 06:50 PM
(This post was last modified: 12-01-2012, 06:58 PM by Yseulte.)
She could hear the ocean in the distance, churning and foaming onto sand silvered by moonlight, singing to her in murmured voices sweeter than the sound of falling summer rain—cool and light in the depths of her consciousness. The thrum of her heart was strong and wild on these chilled nights, though she did not always fancy herself a creature of the night. In fact, she immensely disliked darkness. The darkness had been her father's element, after all.
The smell of salt-water enveloped her senses—a sharp, stinging clarity she knew by heart. She ran along the sand, until even the boundary between earth and sky seemed to blur.
Two figures, swathed in bright starlight, soon appeared on the stretch of silver beach. She slowed into a trot, the transition fluid and languid as the sea curling upon the shoreline. Yseulte could only see their silhouette, big and small.
Father and daughter, perhaps.
The sight caused a bitter taste to swell in her throat, but she swallowed it with practiced ease. The closer she drew, however, she realized the two were of a different species. But that did not rule out the possibility—in Liridon, the father could be part-dragon and the offspring may very well be a butterfly-child, or any number of combinations. She herself had been considered part-monster by most folk—known for their sharp beauty and treacherous ways.
For so long she had been told who and what she was, it was difficult not to believe it.
She considered slipping away into the moonlight—children made her uncomfortable and awkward. However, the intrigue of strangers was too great to resist, and she made her presence known to them. Her skin had a soft glow, enhanced by starlight as she approached and she caught the string of words said by the youngster.
Her eyes settled on the child first, on the sunset-tipped wings folded by her side and the bright violet of her eyes. A pretty child. Her unwavering gaze fixed on the stallion next—on the strange array of items tangled in his wild black hair, and the bright of his eyes. He was not good-looking in the traditional way, but Yseulte had never been attracted to beautiful men for reasons of her own. And so it was only natural that Yseulte found comfort in his rugged, windswept appearance, and was incredibly fond of the wild taste of his scent, like salt and wind and strange adventures.
He looked like he had seen much of this world, though whether he thought good or bad of it, she could not tell.
"My father once told me that the sea whispers because the unfortunate souls who have drowned never left," she said at last to the young filly in a grave voice, although she was certain the quick eyes of the stallion would catch her lip twitching with amusement. "Remaining behind for all eternity to drag unsuspecting victims to their watery graves."
While other fillies were told sweet, fairy-tale bedtime stories of princes and princesses, Yseulte was bombarded with gruesome tales full of blood and gore.
Ever the charmer, her father.
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yseulte, |
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ALL THE WAYS I GOT TO KNOW
YOUR PRETTY FACE AND ELECTRIC SOUL.
He was joined first by a lassie who was palomino in colour and winged appendages grew from small sides. A pegasus. Few and far between Corsair had seen such creatures, with a saddle strapped to his white lined barrel most mythical beings stayed away. Humans did that for some reason, the boy often wondered if they smelt funny and he had simply grown accustomed to it. Or maybe it was the dangerous looking Bayonet his rider always carried. Even if his former master did not know about the winged race of Pegasus, Corsair did, often watching their aerial dances in the night. His eyes were laced with wonder however, seeing one this close was rare for him indeed and he smiled and weathered smile in greeting. Laughing in correspondence to her question. Such a bonnie young lass.
Before he could answer however, another from fairy tales and wild stories appeared before him. This time of the horned race, a unicorn. She was vibrant in colour and beautiful on the eye, surely a gem of her species! Corsair allowed his gaze to trace along her curves, her inviting curly mane and the intriguing make of her horn. A sea shell. Corsair definitely approved. The boy gave her his most brilliant smile, the moonlight picking up the whites of his teeth. "She is like most women, the sea. Incredibly beautiful and dreadfully unpredictable."
He winked then at the little filly, thoroughly enjoying himself in the company of woman kind and the moonlight. A combination fit for much more than a dull night. He hummed a bouncy tune then and introduced himself before breaking into the chorus. "I am Corsair, buccaneer of the sea! Nice t' meet you" a voice so rough and wild. Yet happy and flamboyant. He proffered in a head in greeting.
Take what you can, give nothing back.
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Someone else arrived. Golden lobes flicked for the direction of sound, small tiara turned to see the face of the intruder. It was no secret that Eris was not exactly thrilled to have to share the attention, least of all with a grown mare – whatever charm she tried, the older femme would trump with her maturity. All these thoughts were hidden behind a blank façade, watching the mare with indifference through pale lashes. Indeed, the assumption that the two of them were not related was correct; Eris had never met her father, but she knew he had wings. One day, she hoped to soar beside him; when she learned to take the skies, that is. Those pretty little wings on her back remained just for show, for she had no one to teach her. The rest of her family was hopelessly bound to walk the ground, even Ares, whom she found divine in all other aspects of life.
The other was beautiful, Eris noted with displeasure, long curly mane and a coat that shone almost purple under the soft moonlight. And there she was, a child with long, awkward pillars, stumpy tail and no mane to speak of. Stranger spoke, lobes perked toward her in common courtesy more than anything. If the attempt was to scare the golden child, it failed miserably, for she only raised an eyebrow slightly. “Fascinating,” she said, violet gaze locked in with the older mare’s. “Sounds to me like your father filled your head with old wives’ tales.” A smile graced her tiny maw as she spoke, aware of sugarcoating the rather snappy comment in childish innocence. She was not going to let this mare make a joke of her.
The stallion spoke then, and she turned her face to him, immediately pulling on a mask of softer expression. His wink was received with a smile and a shy flicker of her gaze, as if his compliment made her flush, a coquettish display of her purity. She liked his voice, the wildness of his appearance, and her eyes twinkled faintly in the moonlight when she gave her name in return for his. “I’m Eris. A pleasure, Corsair,” she spoke, her voice lowered slightly, tasting his name is it passed over her soft kissers. Though she cared not for it, she turned her head to the mare, as if encouraging her to make an introduction as well.
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