ERISbring your love baby I can bring my shame
”Don’t tell me what I can and cannot do!” Princess Frost was not pleased. Tiny sculpted lobes perked backwards in annoyance with the grey wench standing before her, magenta optics displaying every bit the agitation that rang clear through her sharp words. As she stood there and jutted out her jaw, defiance in her entire posture, the golden child was every parent’s nightmare. There was no love lost between the two of them; mother and daughter could hardly be any more estranged, their natures couldn’t be further apart. One mild, gentle, caring – the other being Eris, as she was turning out to be the exact opposite of all these things.
The spring sun was mild and warm; the breeze spoke of summer and light filtered down through the canopy of leaves in an intricate pattern. The sunrays kissed her gilded skin, a faint glow about her, but in her eyes was not a trace of the angelic impression she gave. She didn’t need this. A harsh snort was emitted through tiny nostrils, followed by an impatient shuffling of wings. “He is my father. I’m going to see him, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” Voice dropped from high-pitched outrage to calm, mocking spite, accompanied by the cocking of an eyebrow. The golden child had no use for this mare anymore - now weaned, she was more than ready to sever all ties to this creature and her damn forest. Eris longed for the open skies, but most of all she longed to be with someone who understood her. Someone that could teach her the mechanics of those tangerine-tipped wings on her back; someone that was not just a simple equine.
The image of her father started to take up more space in the filla’s mind - or rather, the glorified version of what she thought he might look like. In her mind’s eye, she would travel to his desert and find him to be the handsomest, fiercest stallion in all of Helovia – Eris would live with him as a Bedouin princess, and of course there was no doubt in her mind that Ares would travel along with her. The thought painted a small smile on her velvet maw, but the ice in her gaze remained the same as she regarded her dam and felt nothing but disgust.
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Credits
| Outcast |
| Mare :: Equine :: 14.2 hh :: 5 |
| Cami |
 keep keep on running, there's no place like home
The soft light filtering through the treetops reflected in the gold, splashed upon the alabaster pillars of Daenerys. She stood, facing her daughter, regarding the child with worry furrowed upon her delicate brow. It came as no surprise to her that they would have this confrontation, as it had been building up for many moons, but that did not make it any less heartbreaking. While Eris might have been the brat of the century, Daenerys was still her mother and loved her dearly. The pearlescent dame had tried to induce the same feeling of compassion in her beautiful daughter, but to no avail. Her gentle attempts at bonding were only met by hostility and accusations, and by now she was at her wit’s end. It became increasingly apparent to her that Eris lacked a father figure, but at the same time it caused a pang of jealousy within her, that she could not be the idolized parent Eris thought her father to be.
A heartfelt sigh emitted her soft kissers, shaking her nape in resignation. It occurred to her that by now, the only way of getting Eris back would be to let her go. And why not, when she so obviously desired to meet her sire? Daenerys realized that maybe she had kept Eris from Hector not because she wanted to protect Eris, but rather because she wanted to shelter Hector. The pale femme was uncertain of Hector’s parenting skills – the last time she had met him had been when the twins had been conceived, and he had been nothing but an infatuated boy and she had mindlessly seduced him. Perhaps she felt guilty, did not feel like it was in her place to burden him with the outcome of her irresponsible escapade. But at this point, Eris spoke the truth when she declared that Daenerys could not keep her away; in her experience, when the golden filla had set her mind to something, she was hell-bent on getting it, no matter the cost.
Her mind was preoccupied with other matters. Ahriman had disappeared from the surface of the earth it seemed, something very out of character for her eldest. To say it worried her would be an understatement, but it was not something she could discuss with Eris. Daenerys knew well enough that the girl didn’t hold her older brother in much higher regard than she did her dam, so it would more or less be a waste of breath. Magenta eyes returned the spiteful glare of her young with a warm, loving look. “You are right, Eris. It’s up to you,” she spoke, softly. “But you should know – I have not seen your father for some time. I do not know if he remains in Helovia, or if he has traveled on. It will be up to you to find out, if you really wish to track him down,” she remarked, wanting for a moment to offer to accompany the youth on her way to the Throat; but the acidity in the look she was given from Eris made her spare the effort.
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V i s e r y s
Tiger! Tiger! Burning bright, in the forest of the night.
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He hears the voice of a child before he sees it, high pitched, squealing and persistent. It is a noise that grates his ears in irritation, and as the ivory stallion walks languidly through the dark woods, tree limbs hanging ominously over the top of his head, his violet eyes narrow in aggravated provocation. Children were, generally speaking, useless, mindless vessels of hot air and constant jabbering. The stallion comes to a stop, gaze sweeping through the trees that surround him, ears forward as he seeks for the owner of the voice, and perhaps its mother. Surely a small child would not be wandering so deep in these shaded woods; it would be a most unwise decision. Viserys had spent plenty of time in hiding here, safely tucked away in darkness from the dangers of the war that had raged on in the Edge, but still subject to the dangers that lingered here. The wilderness of Helovia was never safe, creatures far larger, and far more capable of harm lingered in the shadows, waiting for their opportunity to strike. It would be sheer folly and ignorance if an individual thought they could pass safely without proper guidance and attention.
He spots them both through the bars of the trees, sunlight filtering through the small gaps in the expanse of the foliage above, casting a gentle, warm light down upon the damp and mossy forest floor. Violet eyes widen, darken, and are latched onto the form of the ivory mare that walks through the emerald wonderland of plants and vegetation. Ahead of her a filly, winged and the color of a dawn fire, continues to frolic forward, blatantly ignoring her mother’s concern and advice. The sight would have been rather comical to Viserys on any other occasion, because he could see the steely glare of hatred and disgust on the filly’s face, her eyes a familiar violet uncannily similar to his own…
The mare though, he knew her instantly. Except for the gold that splashed up the entirety of her legs, lapping at her flanks and shoulders, there was no mistaking his sister. Daenerys has always been beautiful, and undeniably so, it was her right given the royalty and magnificence of the blood that ran through her veins, the same as his own. Time has hardly changed her, her lofty steps and languid stride still beheld the same regality and elegance that she always displayed, her refined features, lithe and slender, most pleasing to the eye. Viserys’ curiosity piqued at the metallic gold that now marred her once pure ivory skin, but gold was a color of kings and queens, and it fit her none the less. It was unexpected, seeing her here after so many months. Despite his vicious, vindictive nature, the pearlescent vagabond found comfort in her presence, for with her alive and well his hopes were still conceivable.
Daenerys should have conceived a son, his son, an heir to his throne and a continuation of the ancient legacy that crowned their history. Viserys again looked to the filly that was with her, and once more his eyes darkened and his mood was tarnished immediately. What was this malformed creature, this pesky, winged little brat that dared to talk with such disrespect? Infuriation, rage, and abhorrence race through him as he glares at the tiny little beast with fiery violet eyes. Daenerys has shamed herself, for if he were to guess correctly, the adorable little mutant with the horrible attitude appeared to be hers. His ivory twin has forever marked herself, her purity ruined, by consorting with such a creature that she would give birth to the ornery, malevolent little monster that stands before her. The stallion shuddered, disgust and repulsion twisting his face into an ugly sneer. Panic too, griped the stallions blackened, rotted heart, and he wondered where his own child was, if he were not here with his mother. Unable to remain hidden any longer, Viserys steps forward through the trees, breaking into the clearing where the mother and daughter stood, eyes narrowed savagely and ears flattened to his head, his movements snake like and smooth as he approaches them.
"Dearest sister," He croons, his voice soft and warmth, the opposite of the ice that settles in his eyes, reaches out from the bottomless pit of his soul. "It has been too long."
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Image Credits
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