T H A Y N E
Let’s Walk Through the Fire Together, Disappear in the Golden Sands
There was a spring in his step that had been absent for a long time, all made possible by the kindness of a few individuals he had met upon wandering into this land. With majestic grace the Warlander galloped over the fields of the Thistle Meadow, his ears swiveled forward and nostrils wide, inhaling the smells of this new, curious land. It was marvelous to have his leg healed. Thayne had forgotten what it was like to move without pain, and albeit the rugged scar upon his left forearm, no one would have been able to tell that it the wound had ever existed. It was by the kindness of Tor that he had been healed, a kindness that he wouldn’t soon forget.
None of those that he met in the Threshold had wanted anything in return for their kindness, and that alone had been strange and somewhat different for Thayne to accept. It seemed that there were still creatures out there made up of kindness that would help rather than harm… In Sliccic, aside from his herd, the numbers of those like that were few and far between. The bastard who had wounded him with a sharpened hoof had been proof of that.
Cresting over the top of a hill, still paced at a full gallop, Thayne let out a whinny of joy. How wonderful this was! The wind crested through his ivory mane and tail, the white strands whipping around his face. Dense muscles pushed and pulled, his legs propelling him across the plains of fresh grass and lavender thistles. Piercing green eyes scanned and surveyed his surroundings, absorbing the sights and filtering them away to remember at a later time. It was only when he approached a wide, churning river did the coal-grey Warlander slow to a stop, his body covered in rivulets of sweat. It had been quite some time since he had been able to run like that, rendered a crippled since leaving Sliccic over a week ago, but the sprint had been refreshing for his body, mind, and soul.
Feathered hooves stopped at the shore of the river, muscles in his thick neck rippling as Thayne lowered his head to indulge in a drink of cool water. Dipping his muzzle into the river, his lips swished the liquid around for a few moments before sucking it in. It felt wonderful on his tongue, quenching his thirst and helping the stallion to cool down from his mad run. When he got his fill, the Warlander lifted his head, ever vigilant. Would there be any others about today? Would they be just as kind as the three he had met in the Threshold?
![[Image: ThayneResized_zps139f09ab.jpg]](http://i1280.photobucket.com/albums/a484/pyrocatch/ThayneResized_zps139f09ab.jpg)
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S.v.e.t.l.a.n.A
je aime les crows
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As I did for about seventy-five percent of my day, I was flying. It was a good time to fly, spring- unlike winter, it wasn't too cold that your wings iced over immediately and you would fall to the ground until only meters above the ground when your wings softened enough you could move them. My wings had normally been quite good at repelling snow and ice, as well as water, due to generations of evolution in Svikruch, but it had also been spectacularly cold in Frostfall, for better or for the worse. For the worse, I thought privately, although who knew what the gods were thinking?
Ah well. Winter was gone. So was my leadership of a herdland, as was Leander's. Didn't the leaders realize, I wonder, it would only be natural for us to team up? Honestly? Surely they must also know we are friends, at least. I hadn't exactly been polite to Jackal or Kri, I admit, something I needed to work on. Eh, doesn't matter.
I exhaled quietly, turning my eyes to the ground to look for a good landing spot. Well, no need to worry- there was a giant field below me. Two blue ribbons tied together and flowed into one river, moving idyllic and smooth, but not slow. The water glistened and shone in the sunlight, sparkled with faint transparency so one could see through to the bottom. It was rippling around something obstructing it.
A horse. I tilted my wings downward, widening my expanse as I came down, with one stroke of my wing to stop me from coming down too quick. I moved forward, my wings counter-stroking to keep me balance, to land on my hind legs before dropping to all fours. With a practiced move, I shook my head, tossing the tangled black mane back and dropping my head to sip at the water opposite the stallion.
"Good day, eh?" I comment as I lift my head, water dripping from my muzzle in beads reflecting the some placid but nevertheless wild landscape of the Thistle Meadow.
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T H A Y N E
Let’s Walk Through the Fire Together, Disappear in the Golden Sands
It was the mighty sounds of wings flapping that caught Thayne’s attention, causing his head to lift higher into the air and piercing green eyes narrowing as he surveyed the sky above him. Dark wings contrasted brilliantly with the blue sky, the silver body that housed the wings landing across the other side of the river. He watched with mild amusement as the silver and ebony dipped mare dropped her pretty head to take a drink, head tilting somewhat in curiosity. Was it custom in these lands for creatures to simply drop in unnoticed? It wasn’t that Thayne had a problem with that, of course, but the further he found himself venturing into Helovia, the more confused he grew.
First, the unending kindness of strangers had left him bewildered and baffled, and now he had to absorb the oddness of sharing a drink with yet another stranger. Once the mare had finished her drink and lifted her head, did she speak, and her choice of words caused a chuckle to rise from the bottom of the Warlander’s gut. He shook his mane, stringy ivory strands landing messily around his handsome, dark head.
’Good day, eh?’ It was a good day indeed. He could run and jump, and move like he hadn’t moved in days…
“Indeed it is, Madam,” Thayne responded kindly, dipping his head in a curt bow, as was custom in Sliccic when meeting new individuals. This is what he had regretted not being able to do when he had first met Tolio, Avira, and Tor in the Threshold, for that was when he had been unable to stand on his own four legs. “The best days I’ve experienced in some time. It’s a pleasure to meet your acquaintance; my name is Thayne.”
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S.v.e.t.l.a.n.A
je aime les crows
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I studied him for a moment longer than 'polite'- he was big. Dark. A sort of coal gray, dappled with ash-silver. He was, in fact, almost the opposite of me, with a mane and tail of clean ivory. Of course, he had no wings. Pity. I felt bad for anyone who didn't have wings to fly with, for they missed out on so much.
I fully lifted my head, stepping back so as my hooves were not in the water.
And he bowed. Tipped his head, anyways. Normally, in Svikruch, we didn't so much bow as use sets of words desirable for the situation, or a specific gesture. Now, if you want to get technical, this stallion had already done it, as equines were deferential to the pegasi there, and were expected to lower the head upon meeting one. But here in Helovia, things were different. Equal. Which I didn't mind. So what did I say in return?
"Onno ahrim, sashul." I finally answer, eyes trained on him. Curious but quiet eyes. "May you fly swift and reach ever greater heights. I am Svetlana the Stormchaser." He wouldn't know how much I had just honoured him by saying the traditional farewell. He wouldn't- but I would. I could only hope he would live up to it.
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T H A Y N E
Let’s Walk Through the Fire Together, Disappear in the Golden Sands
When the Warlander lifted his head, he couldn’t help but smile, despite her foreign words. His ears swiveled slightly upon hearing them, as if trying to understand the elegant speech, but when the ivory silvered mare went on, he listened just as aptly. ‘May you fly swift and reach even greater heights.’ While not familiar with many customs of different lands, Thayne recognized formality when it was spoken, and he knew he had just been graced. With what, the stallion wasn’t sure, but perhaps he would find out…
“It’s a pleasure to meet you then, Svetlana the Stormchaser.” He stated respectfully. She held a title… In Sliccic, titles were rarely given. In his whole life in the herd, only two had gained titles, and he wasn’t one of them. However, Thayne believed that he hadn’t done anything worth-while to have a title bestowed upon him, and so honestly wasn’t bothered by it. Tilting his head slightly, piercing green eyes returned Svetlana’s curious stare. Nostrils flared as in inhaled, taking in both the smells of the meadow, and Svetlana’s own scent. It was sweet, yet the tinged with mystery and danger.
His eyes were ever so slowly drawn from the dark, never ending depths of her eyes to the pure majesty of her wings. Oh, what it would be like to fly… The mare’s dark wings were a beautiful thing to behold, shining ebony in the sunlight with hidden hues of a deep, royal purple. It was fitting, he surmised, that such a royal color should be worn by one honored with a title. “It must be invigorating,” he started by way of opening a conversation, “To be able to spread your wings and soar through the skies… I must admit, I’m a bit envious. I can’t imagine the kind of freedom that must give you.” The smile on his lips portrayed nothing but good will, however, as he didn’t want Svetlana to take his words the wrong way. “If I could ask, what is it like?”
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