Whimsical

T’was a quaint day. Boring, and dull and nothing seemed to entertain this cremello filly. Her blue orbs were inquisitive in retrospect to the dull surroundings of the forest. Her Rose tinted nostrils took in the lush fragrance of coniferous trees. Being an over reactive fellow she felt a tickle deep in her nasal passages. Dirt... It crept into her lungs causing a hard and rather vocal sneeze. The rumbling resonated between the trees and drum of wings erupted from a branch above as angry song birds tweeted in distain for her un-lady like gesture. Crossing her eyes she arched her neck trying to focus on the tip of her nose as if trying to see if any residue was left visible for others to see. Whimsical was a rather young and immature filly. Full of adventure and curiosity and obviously without manners.

But do not judge this curious creature for innocence. In her life she simply has not yet been corrupted by the evils of the world. Greed, lust, and envy have yet to appear in her life she was a book open to be written. The story is at the hands of the writer; she could be corrupted or hidden from all evil in hopes to keep that innocence. She could be molded and formed into a slave, into a leader, into another generic creature of the world. She had personality that could be changed, for nothing is written in stone in a book of life. Forever changing forever tainted with lyrics of the writer. Whimsica'sl physical appearance was still unscathed from weathering and age. She carried a dished nose that cradled her ears that curved towards each other. A desert breed (kathiawari) built on endurance and elegance. She lacks pigmentation thus her skin pink, eyes blue, and hide a milky white. The coloring was not particularly rare but neither common. This filly had no special attributes, no horn, no wings, and obviously no specific abilities. Her own ability was her innocence, and pages of life ready to be written, or ready to be torn.

Moments after her uncanny sneeze she carefully moved her dainty frame through the wicker of branches. They grabbed for her main and scratched on the sides of withers while wrapping around her legs. She was searching for a clearing an open space so she could try and be a socialite. Meet a few others and enjoy the company and perhaps give her a plot and reason for her life. So she wasn’t just a waste of a breathe wasting away the oxygen provided from nature around them. Sudden excitement and energy entered her veins picking up the pace to a lofty jog. Her concaved ears swiveled on their axis with alert attention to pick up any unnerving sounds of predation. Continuing her pace she manages to dirty her legs a light brown and the tips of mane mangled in a tassel with dirt. What an awful site she was.

Reaching a small clearing she drifted to a halt. This clearing was created due to a small fire. Dead ashes of a small patch of trees littered the ground. Lowering her nose she sniffed the bark only to let out another unnaturally loud sneeze. Shaking her head in embarrassment whimsical figured this would be the best place to take a break. Saddened by the death she observed the cycle of death first hand. Moving to another tree she saw the first signs of primary growth. Small mosses covered a rock with small rooted grass plants scattering patches of soil. These plants toook advantage of the field as they currently had no competition to fight for sunlight and nutrients. The start of new life. A sign that the world never stops spinning in a non-ending circle of life and death. Whimsical had too much curiosity that this one field could intrigue for hours on end as she observed every crevice. Her awareness around her decreased. No longer worried about the ability to socialize with other companions. She was an easy target to be snuck up on or easy to observe at a distance. But who knows if she would notice an onlooker from afar at this point she was suddenly too entertained with her new finding.

Romani

She moved with a strange sort of grace, her thoughts clearly preoccupied as she gingerly picked her way through the dense vegetation that made up Helovia’s Threshold. The mare’s ivory mane swayed slightly with every step that she took, tail flicking slightly to keep the flies from landing upon her hide. Azure eyes were halfway covered by her long forelock, and on more than one occasion the Haflinger tossed her head to the side to rid the cumbersome lock of hair from her gaze. Once more, Romani found herself in the forest of arrival, the part of Helovia where all newcomers ventured into the land. Some would go to herds, others would join the outcast bands that littered the land, and some, well… The palomino didn’t want to think of the others that weren’t lucky enough to find those to find them, and lead them to a home.

At her side, little Kasai trotted along quietly, sending curious vibes through the internal bond that equine and tiger shared. Every day the tigress cub seemed to grow and develop more and more, becoming far more independent than the first day Romani had found her in the Sacred Grove. The black and white cub filled her days with joy, loving the companionship, but strangely, since she had received her beloved companion, things had become strange for the Haflinger mare. Strange and troubling.

First, it had been Abdullah, the Arabian mare of the Foothills who had claimed that she had known Romani on a personal level. They had been friends, Abdullah had said, but for the life of her Romani simply couldn’t remember the dappled grey. Next, had been Xanthos, the handsome grullo Unicorn she had met in the Thistle Meadow. Or… Had they already known each other? There was nothing the palomino could to do shake the sight of heartbreak from Xanthos’ chiseled face, his soulful golden eyes filling her with an unfathomable kind of sadness as she admitted that no, she didn’t know him… It was becoming so very frustrating.

With a toss of her head, the Haflinger gave a harsh snort in an attempt to clear the troublesome thoughts from her mind. This was supposed to be a relaxing walk, a chance to breathe in the fresh air of the Threshold to try and forget her worries, even if it was for a short time… At her side, Kasai’s little ears flicked to the side, her pearly nose twitching as a scent crossed the cub’s senses. A second later, the scent crossed Romani’s nostrils and the mare paused mid-step, glancing down to eye her companion closely. While a rare occurrence, Kasai did tend to wander off on her own… That was, after all, how she had met Levi.

Her crisp, azure eyes took in the form of a white mare, clearly female by her scent. For a moment Romani waited and watched, taking in the sight of the stranger that curiously seemed to be investigating something, her attention completely enraptured by whatever it was she was looking at. The cremello’s scent was strange, foreign, and the palomino realized that she had probably just wandered into the Threshold. Dark lips upturning in a small smile, the warrior stepped forward through the brush, Kasai following her, tail flicking left and right.

Keeping that same smile on her lips, she spoke. “Greetings, madam,” Romani said kindly, dipping her head forward in a polite gesture, “Welcome to Helovia. I am Romani, warrior of the Windtossed Foothills… Pleasant weather, hm?”

[OOC: Sorry, dear… Not my best post. XD]

The true Soldier fights not because
He hates what is in front of him,
But because he loves what is behind him.

_{colourize-stock | arctic-stock | imi art}