The Deep Forest was now Couth's home. While the Qian were not exactly a herd, given that a few of the members belonged to other herds, they were still united, a group of sorts, like a legion of knights. Still, she did not feel as though it was necessary for her to seek out a herd to join. Within the deep, dark confines of the forest she felt safe and welcome, knowing that there were quite a few other members of the Qian who also called the Forest their home. While she was not familiar with them, they too had taken the pledge and were therefore allies of hers. Naturally, she knew that there would be some in the Weyr that she liked more than others, though she expected that they would all get along with relative ease.
She sought out the tall tree in the very middle of the Forest which stood surrounded by water. She had flown over this tree earlier and had remarked with surprise that the water seemed an odd, vibrant shade of red. Now that she was on foot she approached with caution and lowered her head to sniff the water- to make sure that it was not blood. She inhaled the scent of clean, fresh water and saw for the first time the reason behind the water's hue- beneath the waters were hundreds and thousands of small, sparkling rubies. Satisfied that this was a blessed pool, not one of misery and death, she moved forward to take a drink, quite pleased to have found out the truth about the crimson pool.
| Deceased |
| Mare :: Equine :: 16 hh :: 6.5 years |
| Blu |
The hauntress creeps through her forest, satisfied with the way the dark canopy hides her from an intrigued sun. Every now and then it's watchful rays peer through the clouds, then through the canopy, then on her. He black hide remains lackluster, even to the sun's playful intent, and stunned, it vanishes back behind it's cloud to hide from the foul female. October twitches her gray tail when she feels her black back light up with warmth. The day is too long and she wishes that night would envelop her, and take her from light's grips.
She freezes to the gentle gale - it isn't a gale. It is the wind recollecting from a mare's appendages. She lands, and the hauntress can smell intrigue coursing like sweat on the girl's skin. Her deformed maw tilts upwards as she grins much larger than she has in a while. October's heart begins to throb at a pace unmatched. Her brain spins as she feels she is spotted from her poorly hidden place. The sun glances over the clouds as she cranes her neck and marches out at an uncomfortable rate. Her lithe legs are quiet against the needles. She rounds the mare's pearly rump, watching with large pupils the width of her wingspan. October pants. The veins crawling from Couth's near-translucent wings are bulging and warm from flight. She can't help herself from shouting. "I can see veins through your wings!" She spoke like a child - a child who grins like a jack-o-lantern.
- - I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad - -
OCTOBER
The dreams in which I'm dying.
Are the best I've ever had
|
Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.
| User-based Random Event |
| Stallion :: Equine :: :: |
| |
As Couth stands drinking from the water small tendrils of it begin to rise up about her. The ends freeze and the shoot into her mane. There they weave a beautiful and intricate pattern akin to vines and flowers until, alas, the water drops and Couth is left with a glimmering bunch of ice which holds her hair in a fashionably pretty fashion. Her mane will stay like this for a week, providing some relief from the heat.
While this has been going on, however, the culprits has been standing in the bushes, hidden. She is not a gremlin, or a troll, or anything of the sort....but she certainly looks it. Her face and head is something like that of a Lion mixed with an unusually wrinkled Pug. Her body is dog-like with monkey hands for paws and possesses ugly green and brown scales in the most disagreeable colors. The female's tail is frayed and Lion-like. Her body emits slime which smells like that of the worst fart known to man. In various spots over her body random patches of green, moss-like hair sprouts from her body in a most uncannily upright manner. This being is, in short, incredibly hideous. But she wishes she was not. Every other being here, the fish, the frogs, the birds in the air, they all know she is here and avoid her with disdain. They have always avoided her. But the Qian, these horses, have not noticed her since their arrival and she has been able to play a Peeping Tom upon them. She envies their beauty but not in a way in which she would try and take it away. She only wants them to be prettier.
When she is done with the ice and water she turns and ambles out in a crooked and cross-eyed manner, swerving here and there a bit as she goes. Drool emits from her mouth a bit and she makes a few odd snorting noises, but eventually she reaches October. There she stands up on her hind legs and weaves a stone into the mare's mane. It is of medium size, black, but flickers with the light of a magically undying fire. It is like an ember contained. There is a slight heat which is gives off but the ugly she-being think its fits October's personality so she ignores the warmth factor. It will come in handy later. Then, with a snort and a bit of sputtering drool, she goes back from whence she came, leaving the two to their business.
Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
| Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER |
|
Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize
& Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage
Neo |
|
Mauja the FrostHeart
ice cold man watches earth die, eternal winter takes its reign
The heat made him restless, and it drove him to wander Helovia, defying the temperature and common sense. The Thistle Meadow was more like Hell Meadow, but the river still remained. He'd taken a much-needed rest in a cluster of trees, drunk his share, even rolled in it to get some heat out of his body. A cool thing he had always been, but this season defied his natural temperature and forced even him to grow hot. And he hated it. Passionately. Yet despite all of this, he was stupid enough to venture out of the shade, to go gallivanting around Helovia in search of.. what? Adventure? Answers? Guidance? The Moon had given him none when he came to the Heavenly Fields, and these days the place was likely so hot that Mauja wouldn't make it above the clouds without melting. Snorting, he moved in under the heavy crowns of the Deep Forest, glad for their protection from the sun's rays. This corner of Helovia was strangely untouched, and it was a curious thing indeed. Why? The Threshold was nothing but dry, so why was this forest spared? Cautious, for rumors of dark powers lurking here were abundant, Mauja glided into their protective arms like a wraith. His pale hide seemed silver in the deep shadows.
Without much plan or direction he drifted, drawn by something but not knowing what. It pulled at him, whispered playfully on the leaves, pushed and tugged when he seemed to stray from his designated path. Since he had not come here with a specific goal in mind, he was content to move along, drinking in the relative cool and watching the old trees with interested eyes. Some of the older, thicker trees had gashes, and, intrigued, Mauja drifted up to one of them. He blew air onto it, gently touched it with the tip of his horn, not breaking the bark, merely touching; he wasn't sure if he imagined it or if it was real, but it felt as if some ancient power still resided here... Something that slept, but sometimes stirred in the dark. Out of respect, he moved back a step. There was no point in meddling the darkness past. If it slept, it likely was not meant to be meddled with. Still, he couldn't help but wonder what kind of place this had been.
The strange tug on his thoughts remained, and Mauja gave in to it once more, moving deeper into the strange old forest. As he neared the deep heart of it, scents came to him - there were horses there, and something that didn't smell pleasantly. He frowned. The vile stench wasn't the sweet one of decaying flesh, nor the earthy one of mouldering leaves - it was simply foul anyway. His path took him closer and closer, and as the trees between him and his quarry lessened, he saw quite the interesting scene. A pegasus mare, tall and thin and silver in the desaturated light, stood by a deep red pool; a thin, dull black equine stood nearby. The first mare had large bat-like wings, the second was just a plain mare - what caught his attention was the green-brown-slimy thing putting something in the second mare's mane. The creature was quite mismatched in appearance and emitted the vile smell, nor was it capable of walking straight. Curious despite its lack of appeal, Mauja drifted closer. There was something mildly charming about its thoroughly messed up appearance, but he didn't address it, merely allowed it to walk past and return to the bushes it came from. Blinking in quiet surprise he returned his attention to the two mares and the red pool. It was just his luck to run across two hornless in his travels, eh?
"Did you know that creature?" he asked them in a curious tone, moving his ghastly, sweaty self up closer to the pool. He was thirsty, and she'd been drinking from it, so hopefully it wasn't toxic despite its color. He perched at its edge, quietly saluting the old tree with his horn before staring at the water's red surface. To drink beside a pegasus... Ulrik would skin me! But it was with fondness he thought of the stoic engineer; Ulrik was a good unicorn, but had no taste for the game Mauja played, pretending to not be what he was. Mauja, on the other hand, enjoyed the game, and that was the reason he lowered his muzzle to the red water, whiskers brushing across its surface as he inhaled its scent. Precious stones glittered beneath the surface. It didn't smell of poison, nor did things around it seem dead - if it was dangerous, wouldn't the trees in the vicinity be twisted and dead? He gave the water a cautious sip, finding it cool and clear, tasteless; it felt good against his parched throat, and he first cautious sip became a much needed long drink.
 |
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here
 Couth had a feeling that the bizarre source of water might attract the attention of other equines, and not long after she had satisfied her thirst a mare came forward. Before Couth could see the extent of the mare's disfigurement, she noticed first the delicate, humble beauty the mare possessed; a dark coat, black like a raven's wing with the exception of four socks and markings which accentuated her eyes and nostrils. The sharp, arched shapes above her gleaming orange eyes made them seem all the more large and inquisitive, though there was something eerie about the mare's gaze that seemed somewhat...Off. And it was when she saw the mare's lips and heard the churlish screech of her voice that the fur behind Couth's nape bristled. Immediately she had a feeling as though she was in the company of something that might have been more dead than living...
But perhaps that feeling did not come from the mare at all, but from the sprite which joined them. Couth froze when tendrils of mist began to climb up past her ankles and toward her withers, which shuddered against the cool touch as it passed through her mane, twisting long, silvery strands and lacing it with a delicate, shining layer of ice along the ends. The water dropped and Couth still stood still, wings arched lightly in surprise as she gazed toward the mare with the Jack-O-Lantern smile, wondering if she had been the one to conjure the gift until she saw and smelled the true magician. It was ugly and foul and Couth feared, momentarily, for the darker mare's safety; her attention was distracted in this fray of supernatural activity by a spotted Unicorn stallion who had come to spectate, but her gaze was drawn back to the doggish creature as it reared upon its hind legs. One of Couth's forelegs lifted and her ears tilted back as she prepared to charge the creature should it harm the mare, but surprisingly, it wound a blazing jet stone into the mare's mane with the same tenderness that the mist had laced Couth's mane with ice. As ugly as this creature was, and as foul as it smelled, it was definitely a good creature. It left shortly thereafter, leaving the three equines in the wake of its stench.
Couth looked to October first to see what she made of this experience before the stud spoke. He was a kingly creature, with a thick, arched neck and a hide which shone even where it was darkened with perfect black splotches. He was a handsome beast, and Couth waited until he was nearly finished drinking before she spoke. The mare's exclamation about her wings was now long forgotten. "No." She answered with a brief shake of her head. She turned her muzzle to sniff the bits of ice which held her mane in its ornate design. "It must be a friendly Forest Spirit of some type," She noted, casting her glance to October then. "Is your stone cool as well?" She asked, assuming that the dark mare had been blessed by something which would keep her cool in the heat of Tallsun.
|
| Deceased |
| Mare :: Equine :: 16 hh :: 6.5 years |
| Blu |
October's shaking heart shrouds in its cage, deflated by the uncertainty radiating from her pinched capillaries. Beneath her dark coat, heat was searing and creating abnormal heaps of sweat in her skin as she dances around the pearly mare. Even though the sun filters through trees to touch her hide, the coat is thick, matted, and lackluster. She most certainly looks like a demon as her eyes sparkle, glazing over the mare’s veiny wings. October resists a sudden urge to touch them with the curled edge of her deformed maw. She could only imagine the wing’s warmth and texture. They appeared crunchy as the filtering light gently grazed over them, sort of like she wished to do with her teeth. But she still resisted the urge when her nerves broke the thought, even as saliva pooled along her tongue.
But, as she was about to taste her saw shaped lips, the mare’s mane began to rise in the hands of chilled water sprouting from the small pond below. Her pupils widened as it seemed the water had a mind of its own, going against the freak of nature to add sparkly frost against her mane tips. As the water splashed back where it belonged, October felt a twisting in her own mane. She inhales and breathes a foul odor. Her head flinches, and her eyes flash to perhaps the most grotesque being alive. But October finds her simply beautiful as her orange gaze scans the slimy coat and wrinkled face. She reminds her of a stillborn, slipping through the folds of its mother’s womb, smelly and dead, foul to the eyes and nose. October grins at the girl as she performs artwork in her mane, and she thinks of tasting her slimy flesh.
Another appears from the dense wood, walking like a warrior atop such stoic legs. He’s finely muscled, and for a second he reminds her of the DemonKing, who tore the world with his demonic thrills. She begins to shake again as she glares into his icy eyes - uncomfortable under his attention. The magical mare leaves and October’s thin neck moves to get a better glimpse of the snowy stallion, the rock twined in her mane touches the skin and she notices how warm it is - she compares it to the heat of Couth's wings. The frosty stallion, Mauja asks of the magical nymph, the sound of his voice caries a tone that makes some sort of wire tense throughout the dainty mare's body. Spasms rock her head each way as she answers his question at near simultaneous timing with Couth. The strange child slinks back a few steps, near panicked by the strangers under sweaty skin. Her teeth grind.
She nearly breaks when the pearly Pegasus turns to her, asking of the generous nymph's prize. All eyes turn to her and the rock grows hot against her black flesh. She can't control her thoughts, they toss and turn within the nervous confines of her skull until she just can't help but blurt, and blurt loudly. "It's warm like the blood in the veins in your wings." She grins mindlessly.
- - I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad - -
OCTOBER
The dreams in which I'm dying.
Are the best I've ever had
|
Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.
Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
| Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER |
|
Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize
& Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage
Neo |
|
Mauja the FrostHeart
ice cold man watches earth die, eternal winter takes its reign
It was a curious meeting indeed - he glanced briefly at the dull-black mare, how she seemed to shy away yet stare at him with disconcerting, hungry eyes. The white just above the fierce orange irises seemed to give her a perpetually surprised expression - for now, he hadn't noticed her deformed maw. She was shaking her head at his question, and beside him, Couth said no. Mauja gave a small shrug and lifted his head off the water's surface; a few faintly red droplets, like water-diluted blood, clung to his muzzle before falling down again. It looked like it was on the verge of being macabre, the red tipping a few of his whiskers, but his snowy countenance was at odds with any such notions. There was peace in his eyes, a softness that lurked on the edges of his smile. As he nodded, the two raven-black feathers behind his ears waved gently with the motion, tickling his warm fur - a stray ray of sunlight caught one of them, lighting it up in deep blue. "Seems like it," he agreed with her, but the question aimed at the skittish equine caught him off guard. He'd not come early enough to see it weave ice into Couth's mane, only the stone it had gifted October with.
He tossed the pegasus a brief glance, seeing nothing yet, before returning it to the lissome black - she seemed nervous, twitching, as if she was about to run away. He furrowed his 'brows; she didn't seem angry, just.. scared. Was it something they were doing? Was he frightening her simply by virtue of being who he was? He didn't know whether to be pleased or disturbed by it, but then she blurted out that it - whatever it was - was warm, like the blood in the pegasus' wings, and he saw the shape of her muzzle. Her lips were deformed, giving her a rather crazy look; they fit together like teeth when she closed her mouth again. Her statement had been bizarre, to say the least, and he wanted to ask her how she knew that her blood was warm - what if it as cold, cold as winter? He didn't, though. He kept quiet, arching one 'brow as he took half a step forward, not wanting to frighten such an interesting creature away. All he wanted was to get a better look at her mouth, but he stopped himself. It was slightly rude, and while he didn't really care about it, he had an image to maintain and to send her running would be counterproductive. He had a feeling the pegasus might berate him for it, though he wasn't quite sure why.
Instead, he rocked back again, turning to peer at Couth's mane. He saw it now, how it had been braided and set with ice. Strangely enough it didn't seem to melt, but he guessed that was what she had been talking about. The black mare had been given a stone that looked like an ember. Apparently, it was warm. Mauja tilted his head. "I've never seen anything like it - neither that stone, nor the creature who gave it to you." He glanced over his shoulder at the red pool. What was this place? Blue eyes flickered back to his current companions, curiosity in them. Who were they? Why were they here? Perhaps understandably, but most of all he was interested in the black mare with the strange lips - but he sensed that there was something about the pegasus that he shouldn't underestimate. Compared to the black girl, she seemed fairly normal, but things aren't always what they seemed. He knew that quite well. But in the end, he simply asked, "Do you come here often?".
|
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here
The longer the dark mare was around, the more Couth felt as though she was being viewed as a wolf might view its prey. She did not feel quite as nervous, of course, given that the mare hadn't been anything but harmless, and the creature which had gifted her had given a gift to the dark mare as well. Surely a good Forest Spirit would not honour a horse if they were vile and black of heart...But she could not claim to understand the ways of Spirits or the Gods- they had their own plans and their own plots to weave. Still, she was unsettled by the mare, the way she looked at her wings and her eerie, toothy smile. She couldn't help but further associate the mare with a predator, the way her lips looked like jagged teeth...But she would not pass judgement yet, not on her looks.
Her behavior was peculiar as well- she did not look terribly nervous, but she appeared restless, skittish- Couth doubted that she was self-conscious at all, the way she spoke and acted. Perhaps she was mildly insane, or perhaps she was completely insane- she could not tell yet. But it was not like Couth to judge others harshly unless she was harmed, the same way she did not judge others to be saints unless she was really quite impressed with them. Her words nearly made Couth shudder when she mentioned the veins in her wings, but she did not tense or recoil them completely; to do so would be to show fear, and she saw no reason, just yet, to fear for her safety. Her comfort had been severely compromised, but one could never hope to always be comfortable.
Judging by the stallion's question, he was not one who knew this particular area well. If he was a regular visitor, he would not have hesitated to drink, and he might have been more familiar with the creature which had blessed them. Couth pondered for a moment whether to disclose the truth or not, and instead of revealing that this was her new homeland she gave him an answer which would fulfill the question without revealing the entire truth. "This is my first time coming to the pool," She said. "I have not been in this part of the Woods long." She offered as a fairly generous donation of personal information. She flicked her ears forward, then, to see what the dull black mare would say, wondering if she was a member of the Qian she did not know about, or if she was just a visitor. "I'm assuming this is not familiar terrain for you either," She said at last, this time speaking to the Unicorn stud, who she assumed lived elsewhere.
|
| Deceased |
| Mare :: Equine :: 16 hh :: 6.5 years |
| Blu |
Her grin fades as she notices how the other horses stare with their confused frosty eyes. She emits a high sound that is more like a grunt and a sigh, clashing out of an uncomfortable windpipe. She continues to tense her muscles, uncoiling, recoiling, uncoiling, and recoiling; until she finally can’t stand the attention much longer. The odd black girl shifts her delicate body and turns all attention to the ruby liquid, placing a dry hoof under the surface. She reaches deeper into the gem colored water as one pearly sock is drenched; she lifts, and so does her head. Surprised, the water is clean, much cleaner than she’d expect. Those demented eyes expect to gaze upon the streaked surface of running diluted blood, streaming down her white hoof in eccentric lines. She wants to taste it. She is saddened by this, and with all interest lost, she downs her jack-o-lantern lips to the surface and noisily sucks in.
Her tongue lolls over the jagged surface of her mouth, slowly, to create such a subtle, sultry appearance for herself while mischievously eyeing the pale unicorn behind gray loose strands of forelock. He is large, muscular, and would well fit any twisted action that came to her whims. If she can dispose of the mare, Couth, things could be so much easier. October thinks this mare makes things much too difficult. She makes things too similar to when the DemonKing courted other mares, while leaving his fragile little girl alone to watch a massacre start, then end. She huffs a timid breath, again, eying those see-through wings. Wishing to sink teeth into them… October is indeed twisted – her lips, to her orbiting hips.
The wicked girl feels the anxiety coming on when the buff FrostHeart asks another question. She flashes her vibrant eyes to Couth, then to Mauja, and without further ado, she speaks, voice shaking with hopeful charm and crashing shyness. “I live here.”
- - I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad - -
OCTOBER
The dreams in which I'm dying.
Are the best I've ever had
|
Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.
Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
| Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER |
|
Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize
& Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage
Neo |
07-14-2012, 05:56 AM
(This post was last modified: 07-15-2012, 05:07 PM by Mauja.)
|
Mauja the FrostHeart
ice cold man watches earth die, eternal winter takes its reign
They were certainly a peculiar gathering, he noted with mild interest. A pegasus, a unicorn, and an equine. Two mares and one stallion. Two pale, one dark. All of them - well, maybe with the exception of the pegasus - a little crazy in their own ways. And one of them more than just "a little". It was intriguing, though, and with quiet fascination he watched the pale-red water run through her white fetlock, as if from a wound. Mauja tilted his head, watching the other mare - unaware of the hunger in October's gaze. "This is my first time coming to the pool." But not the first time in the forest? With open curiosity he studied her, something soft in his pale eyes. Raven feathers whispered behind his ears, stroking his neck gently. Ah; not in this part for long. It seemed she had been in another part, then, or simply spoke weirdly. The King gave a hushed laugh when she fired it back at him, but before he could answer the black girl chimed in. He turned his large head to look at her - she was so very awkward, sticking out like a leg at a strange angle. Had she been raised by other animals, or was something simply a little wrong in her head? Still, she was no idiot; she just made strange observations, and her hawk eyes were sharp. Very sharp, as if they wanted to cut everything they saw just to delight when it bled.
She claimed to live here, and he didn't doubt it; she looked shady enough to thrive beneath the thick boughs and she'd probably spent a lot of time staring at those strange cuts in the bark. Perhaps she knew what they were? "I can believe that," he told her with a wry little smile on his face, something soft in his eyes despite the fact that he was staring at a hornless. Mauja wasn't the type to shun them and make faces in their direction, but he didn't give one whit about them either. For the time being they had to live in peace, so why not make the best of it? Besides, she was interesting. In a way, she reminded him of Deimos. He cast a glance at Couth again. It felt a bit strange to stand between them like this, hard to look and address both of them at the same time, but it seemed to be his lot. One eye on one, the other on the other; diluted red dripped off October's zigzag lips, sending small ripples across the pool's surface when it fell back. "I've seldom been here before," he said as way of answering Couth's statement. "I live further north." On the Edge of the World. But for some reason he kept that to himself - for now.
Strangely enough, it was to October he turned with his next question - but not before he'd taken a few steps back, to not block the mares from each other's view as they stood clustered there by the mysterious pond. "You know all these marks on the trees?" He waved his frosty horn in the direction of the dark forest; they'd all been clawed at, strange inscriptions in their wounded bark. They had bled, but not died, for their crowns bore a heavy weight of leaves. The soil underfoot was still bound by their capable roots, water stored in it, for this corner thrived. "Do you know what's caused them?" And he hoped that whatever had, didn't mind nosy unicorns asking about it. It'd suck if he'd accidentally nvoked some angry demon and had the very darkness try to eat the three of them.
|
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here
She lives there.
Couth was not sure how she felt, living in the Forest when this ghoulish mare also called the place her home. She did not allow her disdain to show on her features, however, instead nodding along with what Mauja said; a place like this defiitely seemed like a proper home for the strange, fidgety mare, even though she wished it wasn't so. She would have to be more careful when she came to the crimson pool to drink, as she felt intimidated by the mare with the crooked grin. There was something feverish about her, something that made Couth's hair stand on end just at her withers.
The unicorn stud admitted that he lived further North but did not give any specific information. Like Couth he was being somewhat vague, perhaps so that the dark mare wouldn't know where he lived. Or perhaps so that Couth and October did not know where to find him; he wasn't being overly friendly to either. He was civil, but so was Couth, and she knew she didn't want to see either of them around any great deal.
He asked the mare about the markings on the trees and, as the one who lived here, she would probably be the only one to know the answer. Or make one up...
|
| Deceased |
| Mare :: Equine :: 16 hh :: 6.5 years |
| Blu |
Her body ripples as attention turns to her. It is not that she's afraid, it is that the girl cannot handle the overwhelming chance to be heard, to rule, to determine, to cause thoughts like the DemonKing. But as the frosty stallion speaks she finds there is no room for her spooky voice. He just remarks and turns those liquid eyes to Couth. Her shuddering stops as some demented form of jealousy kicks in. October's thoughts scream the mare's name, hissing it from behind the walls of her skull. Flashes of gore settle in, but they are interrupted by the stream of words in Mauja's mouth.
'marks on the trees... Do you know what caused them?'
She hears just enough to twist her facial features into an excited grin. Of course she knows what caused them. What else could have caused them? They are the same as they were in Isilme, carved out by the horns or teeth of her family, the haunters/reapers/tormentors of the Woodland shadows. Whatever you shall call them. But the girl, saddened by the interruption of her rather visual thoughts, looks him in the eye. "Us and our descendants." And at once three skeletons rise from the depths of the earth, struggling to remove the surfacing dirt, shaking and clacking as October pulls them upwards. She laughs as they slowly close in on the stallion, and before reaching his spotted legs they drop with a single, harmonious, and eerie clack. "The now dead have caused these marks." She laughs again, showing the FrostHeart that questions will get him nowhere.
- - I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad - -
OCTOBER
The dreams in which I'm dying.
Are the best I've ever had
|
Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.
Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
| Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER |
|
Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize
& Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage
Neo |
There was something very disconcerting about the way the mare grinned, her jack-o-lantern lips curling grotesquely - and yet, that was which made her oddly captivating, too, the blend of the morbid and the childish. Still, she was not one he wanted to upset. If she did, would her revenge, spurned by the child-like spectrum of emotions, ever end? If he shunned her, would she ever forgive him? He found himself doubting it, and watched her with wary eyes, intrigued in spite of his reservations. He would have to tread carefully, so as to not disturb neither her nor whatever darkness that swept through the forest.
"Us and our descendants," she said, and barely had she finished speaking before the earth rumbled beneath them, quaking and shivering as something fought its way up through layers of dirt and soft loam. Mauja's heart skipped a beat, then began to hammer forcefully, pumping out adrenaline - fight or flight? He held his ground, eyes fixed upon the bony white remnants that slowly rose in front of them. What.. the? Unnatural, dead, they rose, three horses, skeletons standing upon solid hooves, hollow eye sockets looking at nothing in particular. A shiver went down the King's spine, uncertainty plaguing him - what was she doing? What did she want? Why was she dragging these up from the earth? A memory, a flash of an undead colt upon a spike of ice, and a further search, looking for dead bodies that walked... but this was different. The three revenants came closer, and Mauja ground his teeth together. He didn't like this. He didn't like being outnumbered by dead horses. He took an involuntary half-step backwards, head high, white-rimmed eyes glancing at October to gauge her face. She didn't seem angry, or cruel, just - what, playful? Excited? Madness.
Before they could touch him, those bony noses, before he could decide whether to stay or back off, they fell to the earth with the clack of bone against bone. Somewhere, a flock of ravens took flight, shrieking, but Mauja stood rooted at the spot. His heart was fleet-footed in his chest, rapid and light, blood soaring through his veins - discarded, like toys, lay three sets of equine skeletons. Just in front of him, hemming him in slightly on the sides, they lake, skulls dragged up for the world to see again. Who were they? Who had they been? And who was she, this mare of death and darkness, her coat so dull and lightless? Mauja swallowed once, trying to calm his heart and regain his composure. Slowly, something smooth and icy slid across his eyes, and a deep voice, so steady, as if his breaths had not quivered at all, broke the silence. "Interesting," he said, leaning down to give one skull a cautious sniff and at the same time expecting it to jump up and headbutt him any second. "The now dead have caused these marks." "What killed them, I wonder?" he murmured, expecting no answer from anyone.
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angels, they fell first, but I'm still here
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