WILLOW & ERMINE
.arborun lignea .. .mare. ..23 years. .. .16.3 hands.
She moves at a steady pace up the curve of the mountain. It is no easy climb, and it is not made any more so with the hulking weight of a tree upon her back. She detests hills as the willow tree seems to grow half as heavy when she has to walk up. As with anything though, only difficult tasks yield great rewards.
Gritting it and bearing it and racing a snail, which beat her, Willow managed to scramble to the top huffing and puffing. Though her gut was by no means engorged, she had never been an overly fit individual, much more apt to bask in sunlight and roll in fields than to train her stamina and strength.
Blowing out heat from her body while the sun reigned over head, darkening her coat with sweat and summoning flies to her coat, Willow lurched to the throne of the Earth God. Well, what was left of it. She paused for a moment, uncertain if the godly realm always seemed in such disrepair. She doubted as much, knowing them to be generally proud beings that were prone to grandeur instead of squalor. She furrowed her 'brow in quiet wonder and awe, green eyes drinking in the destruction while she felt her nerves twisting together with anxiety. Was this a sign that she shouldn't have come here? She has been afraid the Earth god might scold her for failing the herd in her duties of a Storyteller. It was a high honor, but not one she felt suited for in a herd she knew nothing about. She had avoided using that mysterious pool again, it was too intimate of a thing when her belief was so thin. The Earth God was truly fashioned after her own heart, but he was not her god and this was not her home.
Then why had she come?
Willow glanced back, veridian gaze sweeping over the arduous trail where she could have turned back at any point. On her withers Ermine snuggled up into her mane, crooning softly. It brought her encouragement and steeled her heart against this deed. She would never know until she tried.
"Oh Earth God, hear me, Willow the Lignea, I would have your council if you would grant it." She murmured, her muzzle close to the earth, bowed before the crumpled shrine that vines seemed to have obliterated with their might. She could only hope it was at the god's request and not that the fauna were revolting. Was she wasting his time by being here for selfish reasons, particularly if he was indeed under assault?
Determined, Willow shook her head, berating herself for such wild assumptions.
She kept her gaze downcast, suspecting he slept underneath the ground. Last she'd seen him he'd risen from a pool of water, not fallen from the sky as so many others seem to think the kingdom of the heavenly. Her heart was heavy and troubled, but who's is not? She is a young lignea still, and though it is not in her nature or that of her kin to request anything of the deities, Willow knows her gods are too far away from her to hear her prayers and her hoofsteps feel misguided. Ermine's success in awakening a magic she didn't even think he possessed only further knotted her stomach, and trials within the herd and without were showing her that she may not be as capable as she thought. She had to know if she was doing the right thing in leaving Prim'sylvia all those years ago. She had to know if there was any hope in her mission, if her home still fared well, if she was ever to be blessed.... Childishly she'd thought it would have already come, although she is not an elder yet she perhaps arrogantly thinks herself more learned than the sheltered lignea of her birth place. Was she not deserving of an ability, especially when she sought only to assist with it?
Though Willow is a selfless thing, we all have our moments of selfishness and despair, and Willow has fallen into such a pit.
[she seeks magic: Earth .. Able to move tendrils on body, serving as hands or fingers might, or even as a bind when used all together.]
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| Helovian Ancient |
| Stallion :: Equine :: :: |
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01-09-2013, 08:11 PM
(This post was last modified: 02-12-2013, 01:38 AM by Random Event.)
The dust suddenly billows up and forms a cloud, within that cloud you can see the face of the Earth God. Unfortunately that is the only glimpse you'll have of him. Try your luck again later.
Return Date: 3/09/13
2/11/13 :: Using a VotG pass and Blu is editing the post to reflect the different season. IC, she was not rejected the first time.
| Helovian Ancient |
| Stallion :: Equine :: 22.0hh :: Ageless |
| Admin |
The GOD of the EARTH
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Although the God of the Earth and his siblings had abandoned their shrines, the earthen-God missed his times with the mortals. He was saddened that so many followers ceased visiting, without the promise of magic to entice them. Perhaps the God of Time had been right, and the mortals had become too corrupted - too drunk on power.
Willow’s voice had reached the God’s mind through slow and subtle vibrations in the rock, calling him out of the ground upon which she kneels.The terrain behind Willow rumbles with an earthy musicality, as the blackened rocked parts way to make room for the massive bulk of the God. It wasn’t so much that he was coming out of the rocky precipice, more so that he was coming through it. Bits of shale falls from his red-tipped wings, as the rocks parted and the God of the Earth emerges from the hallowed ground. Warm emerald eyes gaze at the young Lignea who bows to a shrine now covered with blackened vines and crisp blue flowers. With a fatherly smile of adoration, the God sighs softly.
“You need not bow to me Willow. I come here gladly. I know this inlet is not to easy for one such as you to reach.” His voice is rich and comprised of a hum resonant of the earth itself. He recalls their first meeting - in the pool within the Windtossed Foothills, and smiles fondly. In Willow’s mind, the God can see the stirrings of the magic that she wishes to posses, which causes an approving smile to cross the God’s chiseled maw. “What council can I provide, child?” He asks softly, tilting his horned head. With a patience reminiscent of the mountains, the God pauses to hear what Willow has to say.
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CREDITS
WILLOW & ERMINE
.arborun lignea .. .mare. ..23 years. .. .16.3 hands.
The ground trembles underhoof, quivering with a certain rhythm reminiscent of singing. It brought her lips to quirk up in a smile, her chest slackening as the tightness about her heart began to dissipate, filling instead with joy instead of rigid fear. She should have known - the earth always forgives.
He rises like a plant himself jutting through soil and shale. It causes her to stagger back, awkwardly rising from her bow as she tries to avoid the shrapnel of his appearance. It was needless however, as he came nowhere near striking her, but a mortal's habits tend to die hard. Perhaps those of a god's as well, if the emptiness of the shrines yet the presence of the Earth was anything to go by.
He speaks, and Willow feels as if it is not the monument of a horse before her, but every grain of sand and speck of dirt vocalizing. With so many small particles speaking at once, their insignificant voices individually, become something impressive united. He is the echo of mountains toppling in the same instant that he is the echo of them rising.
She smiles.
Her green gaze drifts on him easily, at once comforted by his arrival. She thinks surely now, that is indeed Nepenthes in a different form. Her gods remain in Prim'sylvia, but they exist all throughout the globe, disguised in what ways best suit the majority of those that worship them. They are one and the same however, this she now recognizes to be true, and it humbles her in as much as it lifts her up.
For the first time in a long time, she doesn't feel so far from home.
"Thank you, Nepenthes," she murmurs, favoring her name for him over the simplistic title used in Helovia. "As always you are too kind, and your knowledge extending further than the longest roots of the largest tree." She compliments him, eyes reflecting the genial grin sliding onto her muzzle. Her pulse quickens as her heart beats with a certain affection for the deity. It is not love in the sense of pollination or seedlings unfurling beneath the shade of their mother's boughs, but it is something akin to such a sensation, like the love of her leaves for the sun.
"I have no right to ask this of you," she begins more seriously now, her head dooping like her willow tree with her humble shame. "...Yet I feel I need your guidance, as my hooves as of late feel as if they are as liable to wonder over a cliff as not. I-I am worried that I am not doing right, be-because I would have though I'd have the wisdom of magic by now, b-b-but I don't. Yet Ermine, so much younger than I...." she trailed off, realizing how jealous and insignificant her problems sounded now that she was muttering them. She lifted her gaze suddenly then, searching among the weathered face of the god, hoping not to see anger or impatience in the lines of his facade. "Ermine has already discovered his talents, and I am afraid that I am still without. I am young yet at 23 season turns, but have I not learned more than most in my short time? Willow the wisdom of my magic not come to my mind until a certain age, or do I think incorrectly of my experiences?" She finished with an exasperated huff of air from her nostrils, ears flicking uncertainly atop her head. Her gaze, which had drifted back to the ground, was risen towards him once more.
"I do not wish to seem greedy or foolish Nepenthes, but perhaps that cannot be avoided. I just need to know I am doing what is correct. That my actions will lead me to the eventual blossoming of my skills, or if I am digging my roots in sour soil." She had always felt certain that leaving Prim'syvlia to explore the world and learn of other cultures was the best course of action, but lately she'd been feeling as though she'd betrayed her home and wondering if she was now cursed.
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| Helovian Ancient |
| Stallion :: Equine :: 22.0hh :: Ageless |
| Admin |
The GOD of the EARTH
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The God listened with a patience that only the oldest stones, cast deep within the ocean could understand. Although Willow’s song was not a new one, for ignorance of the ‘grand plan’ of ones life far pre-dated Helovia, he never the less bore her words with thoughtful consideration. It was creatures such as Willow who made him look back on his shrine prior to its fall, with a fond remembrance. Creatures who sought wisdom and a heightened sense of understanding, who were not afraid to admit their shortcomings, and ask humbly for guidance. Creatures who had the good sense not to stand and scream his name, as if he was not a part of every leaf, bough, and flower. Nepenthes she called him...and that was good too. Yes, it was times like this that he could almost over look the arrogance, the entitlement with which he had been beckoned in the past.
When he was quite sure the Willow had finished, her piece said and her gaze once again rested upon him, rather than wavering down to the ground then back up, he chuckled thoughtfully. “My dear Willow..” He began, looking down fondly at the mare, his emerald gaze beaming with warmth and affection. “Experience does not come simply with the passing of the seasons; you could see 100 Birdsong winds push away the cold of Frostfall, and still have no more wisdom than when you first sprouted. The wisdom of your magic is not so directly linked to age; it is as you say: your actions will lead you to the eventual blossoming of your skills. And so it shall be.”
Pausing, the God moved his rustic body closer to the Lignea, causing bits of shale and dust to disburse from his feathered hooves, from his ascent out of the rocky terrain. Thoughtfully, the God looked to the horizon, his gaze slanting upward as a smile brushed his dark lips. Returning his bearded muzzle towards her, he nodded. “ Within the waters grasses stir, and yet they are called a weed. Close to Heaven a yellow-weed grows, releasing its many seeds. And finally you must seek to find, within the woods, a vine to bind. These three plants, you must bring to me.” His voice, resounding more so as his words rang jovially, hung in the air even after he was finished speaking. As the lull decreased and his words were finally blotted out, he remained gazing down at Willow.
[Willow must find three specific plants, and bring them back to the Earth God.]
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CREDITS
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|reach| [earth god]
