Psyche the DarkEmpress Posts: 380
| Deceased |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 8 (ages in Orangemoon) Buff: ENDURE |
| RayoDeSoleil |
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The Basin was still in the early morning. She had travelled through the night, the giant snake by her side, leading the way through the unkind lands of the Steppe, its plains covered, as always, by that awful blanket of snow. Even in Birdsong, when every other land bloomed, the tundra remained as barren and grey as ever. It was quite depressing, to be honest, but her irritation was erased as she crested the ridge that led into the Basin. The sun, rising in the east, was beginning to tint the sky in the pink hue of dawn, and it colored the snow-capped mountains circling the valley in a similar light. Grass had grown in her absence, enough to create a vibrant sea of emerald, fading only where it merged into the cliffs around them or the hot spring that interrupted the landscape. The caves in the mountainsides were still immersed in shadow, too early still for any real light to seep into their crevices.
She took a deep breath, the cool, crisp mountain air a blessing after days of breathing the hot, dry sands of the desert. The satisfaction that she felt at returning to her home was supplemented by the insatiable superiority that dominated her mind: her home, as everything else that was hers, was better than theirs. A slight smirk crossed her maw briefly; she had halted at mouth of the pass, surveying her land, for the first time truly feeling like a leader. But it was a short-lived peace, a temporary pause, and then she was moving again, her pistons blurring into an easy trot as she picked her way down the short mountainside and into the valley. She did not trumpet her return, instead allowing the quiet simplicity of the morning to warm her, to welcome her. They would know that she was back soon enough, and that she had a friend. She wasn't sure how they would receive him, but the Time God had made her words law, and as such, she assumed that she would not be challenged on her decision.
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Image Credit
B A Z I L I S K
I do not desire to hear your words, nor you mine.
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He has not spoken since they began moving. Guilt. It's a heavy thing in his stomach, so real, but he knows he is better off here than the Throat. Hopefully. He does hope. It's quite real, sickeningly real, that he's betraying another herd, even if they were not his family. Not my family. The serpent thinks silently to himself, speeding ever onwards. There is only the dry rustling of his scales as sand turns to forest and forest turns to secluded grove, from soft peat to snow and ice. It is beautiful here, the mare did not lie, but he prefers heat. Not that you can feel heat or cold anyways.
"Is this it?" He asks, voice quiet. Not soft, not hard, almost empty of emotion. Bazilisk twists up, stretching up and up until his head is high, so high, in the air he can see near everything of the valley. It was pretty, he realized. Grass was springing up around hot springs, a carpet of soft green. A bird squawked, startled to see his head from the perch on it's mountain perch. Teeth snapped, feathers exploded into the air haloed in golden light and the little gray-feathered bird was gone. But he hadn't flown away. A red tongue slipped around the serpent's mouth, enjoying the fresh flavor of the warm meat.
The mare began to trot down the entry between the mountains tall, and without another word the silent beast follows, his curling body leaving great indentations in the dust behind him.
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Stellaluna From the deepest desires often come the deadliest hate. |  |
Stellaluna's mind was alight with thoughts as she traced the boundary of the Basin in a smooth trot. The cool air was refreshing, and she needed a break from the stress of herd life as of late. With Psyche gone, it was a bit of a struggle, in her opinion, as to who should step up and lead them. With no Lord, no King to lead in her absence, it had become a situation of too many chiefs, not enough Indians. And now Stellaluna enjoyed a bit of solitude, remembering the peacefulness of the outcast life. She had come to a small just of rock that overlooked the Basin, and above her she could begin to see small trails of the aurora borealis that had given this land it's name. A slight breeze brushed against her, cream banners flowing in it's cool fingers. Then, a bit of motion caught her eye, and her heart danced.
Across the way, the shadow of a mare crossed onto the ridge that lead into the Aurora Basin. A golden hoof stepped forward, and Stellaluna readied to bounce like a mountain goat towards her queen. But then, another form caught her attention. The massive shape of a serpent wound behind Psyche. The copper mare wished to call out to Psyche, warn her of the predator that moved not a horse's length away. But Stellaluna shook her head. Psyche would have had to be both blind and deaf to not notice the basilisk.
Instead, Stellaluna began her graceful descent down the mountain side, anticipating where the Dark Empress and serpent would emerge. Soon she met them, and dropped down in a slight bow, amber eyes averted from Psyche respectfully.
My Queen, She began, and slowly stood, regaining her own proud physique. It has been much to long. But, I see and am not surprised, you return to us just as regal as when you were stolen from us. I pray your journey was not too terrible? Stellaluna had only been through the desert once, and it was not to stay. She figured that she was better suited for the desert, her copper and bronze hues perfect to blend her into the landscape. But the sunlight and sprawling empty was not for her. Anyways, the deserts here in Helovia were plagued with feathered airheads. But that was the past, and this was not time for Stellaluna to reminisce. It was time for them to strike back, remind the Throat members why they should not meddle in the affair of real horses.
| Walk walk walk.
Talk talk talk.
Think think think. | dyslexaphobia.deviantart.com | rayodesoleil.deviantart.com |
| Outcast |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 9 Buff: NOVICE |
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Azel :: King Cheetah :: Quantum Leap
Adoptable |
![[Image: xanthosprofilepic.png]](http://i1327.photobucket.com/albums/u667/ali00p_Manip/xanthosprofilepic.png)
Xanthos
I will live for you
before I die
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Xanthos had not strayed far from his prisoner since her capture. Although the talk with the Dragonheart had only acelerated his thoughts of leaving, the grullo had managed to stay within the Basin for now, awaiting the return of his Corporal and their newly crowned leader, Psyche. A part of him had wanted to forget the threats posed to the palomino mare he'd come to be friends with, to pretend that no harm would ever come to the little Haflinger called Romani, but he knew that those were foolish things to assume. It was stretch, he knew, but after he announced the Weyrleader's capture to Psyche... What would happen then?
A dark figure could be seen descending the path that led into their home, and for a moment the stallion grew frigid, wondering if it was yet another bout of prisoners. Behind the shape was another, elongated in appearance, and huge. Was it... a snake? But when the form drew closer, he could see clearly that this was Psyche, back from the Throat in which she had been contained. And with her was, indeed, a colossal snake. A basilisk, if he was correct. A shiver ran down his spine as he took in the reptile's scaly body, and those piercing eyes that were much akin to his own.
Drawing in a deep breath, Xanthos made his way towards the pair, his steps hesitant as he grew closer to the basilisk. It would be stupid for anyone not to be at least a little fearful of the creature. When he found himself standing not far from Stellaluna, he came to a halt, dropping his head in respect to the Empress and her new friend. After all, he was not even considered a soldier among their ranks; not anymore. "My liege," he spoke up when he saw appropriate, raising his head back up only slightly then to cast his gaze upon the Empress. He wouldn't dare show anything less than respect. "I am glad to see you've returned unscathed."
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Psyche the DarkEmpress Posts: 380
| Deceased |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 8 (ages in Orangemoon) Buff: ENDURE |
| RayoDeSoleil |
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"Is this it?"
She had forgotten how much she truly loved this land, this gift that was bestowed upon her by the Time God. Or had she? Had she ever felt that a place was home? No, she supposed she had not. But this place, her place, was home. What a foreign feeling it was! "It is," she responded, vocals proud. "If the trip through the Steppe chilled you, the hot spring may do well to warm you," she added, an offering. She did not know much of snakes, but she did know that the ones she had seen, though much smaller, had enjoyed sunning themselves. Did they like water? She didn't know - but if the sun could not provide heat, the springs birthed from the fire of the earth's core would.
A form approached from the shadows or the trees, a familiar form, and one that was greeted with affection, or something similar to it. "Stellaluna," she said in greeted, nodding as her Tormentor dropped into a bow. The fae's words were well-received, and she was graced with a rare smile. "The desert was not to my liking, but I daresay I made my gains there." She was on the verge of introductions, but then another familiar figure appeared. This one was a bit of a surprise to the shadow-mare, and she regarded him with a cool, withering gaze. But his words were the right ones, and though she may not trust him, she appreciated his effort.
Besides, she had heard rumors that he had made a capture of his own.
"Xanthos," she said, another formality. She greeted them by name for their comfort as well as to introduce them to Bazilisk. "I hear rumors that you have accomplished much in my absence. We shall talk later, you and I." That taken care of, she took it upon herself to introduce their newest member. "This is Bazilisk. He has come to reside in the Basin, and he is to be treated with the utmost respect." She met each of their gazes separately, holding them briefly to allow her order to sink in. Her word was law, the god had said; and so it would be tested.
""
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Image Credit
B A Z I L I S K
I do not desire to hear your words, nor you mine.
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More boneheads arrive. Or hornheads. Bazilisk is not quite sure what to call them. One is a two-horn-head. The other is plain. Psyche calls her Stellaluna, but the snake privately calls her bonehead, for it seems to fit her pretty looks, and pretty horses tend to be dumb ones. As for the dun, he calls him lion-tail-twitch, for he has a lion's tail and has a dusty-looking coat that matches a lion's fur.
A snake does not speak often, and he sees no reason to gift these unicorns with his gilded tongue, and so instead of speaking, he is content for Psyche to take her leave. They shower her with fine 'ladies' and 'lieges'. Bazilisk does not see the black mare well enough for him to address her as such. A snake is a snake, no matter their size, and they tend not to care for others too much anyways. Maybe one day Bazilisk will feel more than a bit more respect for her than he had for Leander, but for now he is just thankful for her kindness.
"I will go find somewhere more secluded where I will rest. I warn you not to disturb my sleep, for I wake with more than a bad temper, and I wouldn't... want to hurt anyone." Just as always, his voice sounds mostly emotionless, except for a hint of something underneath it you cannot quite decipher.
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the Return of the Empress [Bazilisk/Plague/open]
