"Where brilliance is good and madness is better..."
Helovia Info
Helovia opened in February 2012! We are an active fantasy equine RPG
Where once the world narrowed into naught but gray dust and desolation, the gods called for life. Wielding the elements of fire and light, dark and wind, earth and water, spark and time, they have created Helovia. The realm is set within the mythical globe of Loorien, a planet rich with all variety of creatures and blessed with all manner of magic. Originally populated by nomadic, tribal characters, they've since grown into massive empires saturated with culture and history. Separated into four distinct segments of Helovia, called "The Regions," each band of horse strong enough and capable enough, took up the power and responsibility of leadership. Unicorns, old, wise and mysterious, took to the north, hidden in forests of mists and shadows and rarely making themselves known beyond their cliffs of the World's Edge. Equines, vast, organized and militaristic, split into two, one group went north to the Windtossed Foothills and the other group went south to the Dragon's Throat. Pegasus remained nomadic, making their homes in various parts of The Wilds in a migratory manner. For many generations, the land was peaceful and calm, but peace was never the way of the gods. With a clash of argument, war and bloodshed massacred Helovia, and in the aftermath, the realm was eerily quiet. Now, as newcomers sweep into this land, they are met with the lingering bitterness of the gods and the struggle to reclaim what was lost. Nothing remains safe or certain while sorcerers and soldiers alike brood and bide their time for revenge, honor and glory.
Site Wide Plots
Kaos :: The Beginning of the End ☼ - 6/2017 - Kaos placed Helovia in a time-bubble for a short period of time, but the Helovian gods are fighting back. But Kaos is powerful- far more powerful than anyone thought. This may be the beginning of the end of Helovia as we know it.
Kisamoa :: A New Kind of Kaos ☼ - 3/2017 - Kisamoa asks Helovians to help him restore the Spectral Marsh. Which side will you choose?
Invasions :: All Out War ☼ - 5/2/16 - New layout and the brand new invasion rules are up! Thank you for your patience and we look forward to getting started with this new adventure.
The Rift :: Gods Do Die ☼ - 8/2015 - Helovia Gods are saving the Rift from corrupt gods! Can Helovians band together against these foreign deities?
The Literal Ship ☼ - 2/8/15 - Oh no! You have to pair up for Valentine's day!
Sky Island :: Murder ☼ - 10/25/14 - Vesta has been found dead on the island, and the gods have called to you to solve the murder!
Sky Island :: Peace ☼ - 7/7/14 - An island has appeared in the sky! Clouds carry Helovians from the Veins to the sky.
Restoration :: We Welcome the Dawn ☼ - 9/21/13 - The sun has finally risen on this day, giving the land new light, but the Time God and the Sun God have yet to be seen.
Endless Night :: Broken Magic Plot ☼ - 8/30/13 - The earth god has returned and is walking across Helovia to heal the land. Every area can now be considered lush and prosperous, but the sun has still not risen.
☼ - 7/19/13 - The moon has risen in the sky, heralding the return of the Goddess of the moon. Lamp trees which light the paths have grown brighter, moon flowers which grow in dark places have begun to grow and prosper and the world is brighter, filled with a new hope.
Endless Night :: Dead Magic Plot ☼ - 6/22/13 - The gods of Helovia, in order to protect the world, have disappeared into the rift, leaving the world sunless, moonless and magic-less in their absence. Only the herdlands have a source of light, but lamp-trees with glowing leaves and branches sporadically line the popular roads and paths from place to place.
Doppleganger Plot ☼ - 6/20/13 - The God of Time is still struggling to close the rift though which the dopplegangers have come. He has requested that his brothers and sister assist in closing this hole, but without knowing why it opened, the task is proving difficult. Magic still remains faulty and hard to control, but the herdlands continue to be places of refuge for those who are fortunate enough to call these lands home.
ORANGEMOON cools off the lands with a a viscious force. Colder than normal, a sign of things to come during Frostfall, Helovia is bathed in a rich tropical lushness - albiet a cold one. The coastlines of the Dragon's Throat are pelted constantly by tidal waves, and the desert climate is humid but chilly. Ice begins to form early in the Aurora Basin leaving the winding trails slick and dangerous. The mists of the World's Edge coat everything in a glistening crystalline shine which encourages mould to grow everywhere. The Spectral Marsh is the only area which remains fertile, blissfully temperature and lush.
Cotm
Character of the Month for
June, 2017
WEAVER, Corporal of the Aurora Basin, is a relatively recent addition to Helovia and has taken it by storm. Branded with the seal of Death on her chest, intrigue and interest follow both her past and present. Though she is assuredly beautiful, her sometimes sharp personality reveals that there is more to this uni-peg hybrid than meets the eye. Proving herself able on the battlefield in the Basin’s warrior ranks, we can’t wait to see her test her mettle against the looming Kaos happenings! Congratulations!
Helovia RPG was created by Tamme and Blu and coded by Tamme also known as Schwartze. All coding, palettes and imagery are copyrighted to the website and are not for use outside of Helovia. Thank you to our ServerMaster for hosting Helovia. A special thanks goes to Neo for all of her coding help and fixing Tamme's errors, Boom, for her loyal service and creation of the Time God, and to Ali for her consistent contributions and dedication.
'Tis lovely when one makes their mark into the earth. Their very own mark unique due to their hooves' conditions. With every step, there is a hoof print, that horse's very own indentation in the earth. It stays right there in the dirt or the mud or the muck; where ever it was made. It never goes away. It might get covered up, it might get stepped over, part of it might even get carried away to some other place. Bottom line, it never goes away.
If one were to think about it the right way, they would also come to realize that this specific horse's hoof prints could tell a story. One from birth to death. A story of fights, a story of hustle, a story of love; all from the pattern of the hoof prints and their positions. For some, it was possible that these hoof print could tell an exciting story that could capture the minds of the rowdiest colts and foals. For others, it could be a life that made some drift off and go to bed. And of course, always the occasional sob story where the hoof prints led to the bones of an old rotted carcass. Which of these were to be Avalon's was undecided for now and here, reader, is where the freshest of hoof prints begin.
Black eyes with tiny silver irises scanned the forest. The trail was very luscious with vegetation. Several had been here before her, the imprints in the ground spoke of it. Her buckskin colored coat shifted in shades slightly as the falling sun reached it in different levels depending on what shadows she passed through. The light dappled pattern in the coat stretched slightly with every step as her body flexed with every movement. A long black tail that emerged from the tailbone of Avalon would blow in the slight breezes, along with her mane. The two sets of feathers that were set behind her left ear and at her tail bone would occasionally dance with the wind as well.
Avalon's large charcoal colored antlers proved helpful as well, for any loose twigs in her way were very easy to push aside. Her nostrils flared at the sound of a snapping twig but at a closer examination it was only her hind hoof that had pushed down enough weight to cause the twig on the ground to give way.
Another gust of wind broke through the vegetation. Whether the wind actually spoke or not, Avalon stopped to think and listen. The mare had a strong belief implanted into her mind that the wind carried secrets about life. This time, she believed she heard. With a gleeful neigh, Avalon jerked the front half of her body up and kicked off with her powerful hind legs. This caused her to enter a large leap in which she set off into a full out canter through the trail.
With fire to keep us warm & tools we made from rocks and bones </style>
This was certainly an odd sight: Gaucho had only encountered one creature in Helovia who towered above him. He was surprised to find that the second one was a mare.
Like the bucksin, Gaucho too sported a rack of antlers upon his brow, yet his had a dream-catcher woven between the two mane tines, adorned with feathers and beads. Until recently, he had little understand about the leather laced about his forehead, yet after a spar with a wolf called Ayaka, he realized that the beads would glow when his magic was used, and that the spirits he called upon would pour from the web. Still, the primary sort of similarities between the two were obvious. While she was a dappled bucksin, he was a bay with a thick dorsal strip and barring along his legs. He also possessed strange markings of war-paint along his hip, shoulders, and his left eye. Unlike the feathers in her mane, Gaucho had a bone driven through the cartilage in his nose.
Grunting, the large Hanoverian stood in the path that Avalon was currently headed down. He could hear the steady beat of her hooves against the soil, and narrowed his steely-grey eyes at her approach. Extended his black wings to their full height to block her path and also make himself appear larger, he tossed his antler brow, watching her movements curiously. Gaucho was a primitive creature - relying on instincts more than anything. He was not much of a conversationalist, usually fumbling with words more than anything. Still, he a had a duty to his herd, the Dragon's Throat, to scout the Threshold for those who would be fitting for a strong and noble herd such as theirs.
Snorting, the bone in his nose moving slightly, Gaucho pranced forward - a relativity graceful movement for a creature his size. His mane and tail streamed behind him rather prettily, though were an odd decoration for a warrior such as he was. Still, he retained a rather primal handsomeness about him; a wildness. Grunting he blocked Avalon's path, his ears bearing into her. "I am Gaucho. Who are you?" He inquired, his voice deep and resonant, though he spoke as if he was not used to doing so.
Avalon was very observative, right now, that was. However, she was also moving at a fast rate, her hooves pounding into the earth in a steady yet rapid rhythm. With the momentum her moving body was gaining, it was hard to pull herself to a halt to keep from running into a bay stallion with large wings. Avalon's eyes grew wide as she skidded to a halt, kicking up dirt behind her in the process. However, she only slid a few feet before finding herself in an almost seated position at a complete stop.
Avalon instantly perked herself up in front of the stallion and came to realize she was slightly taller than him. At a stand still, she now got better look. The stallion was bay with large dark brown wings. He had paint on his left eye, and front the looks of it, she supposed more somewhere else. The stallion had sapphire blue eyes that reminded her of an early morning sky.
However, the thing that stood out most about this stallion, was the fact that he had antlers as well. And not only that, but a dream catcher with beads. But, of course, Avalon didn't know what this contraption was. She had never even seen another equine with antlers like herself. All she knew, however, is that she found the contraption extremely intriguing and she still didn't have a slightest clue of what its purpose nor name was.
Avalon could feel the feathers attached to the top of her mane poking into her neck slightly. They were in an awkward position, probably because of the sudden stop. To fix this, she shook her head slightly, sending her ink black mane to and fro. However, it all fell back into place, along with the feathers. Perhaps slightly messy, but she almost never kept up with it. She had no reason to.
Her path was certainly blocked by his body, as well as wings, and then the stallion spoke. Avalon noticed that it appeared uncomfortable for him to speak. Almost unnatural. She didn't make it obvious at all. Actually, she hardly showed any notice to it at all. Nevertheless, he had introduced himself and it was only in her best to reciprocate the action.
Avalon dipped her head slightly in recognition, her large charcoal colored antlers following the same motion since they were attached to her head.
"It's nice to meet you... Gaucho. I am Avalon," she paused for a second "I also believe, I am lost."
After all, it was true. Avalon didn't know exactly where she was. She didn't know exactly where she was going either. She just knew she was moving. Or had been moving. Then again, perhaps it was destiny for her to had stopped moving. Perhaps it was destiny for her to come across Gaucho.
The heart pinned on his withers was aching, for there seemed to be no love in his home called "Foothills". There were not enough people; the horses were wraiths and ghosts that flickered through the woods, a smile on their faces but never quite real to touch or see, even if they smelt like earth and throbbing metal. Argetlam came to the Threshold because of this; he was a simple creature, at heart, not quite so complicated as one might think, and he enjoyed the peace of the world. Yet he was a sociable creature, even if a little bit of a stuttering boy and awkward around company. But heartfelt, at least.
The dark gray stallion came trotting down, enjoying the warmth of the sun, a bit of a stumbler as usual, but as sweet as the lush emerald carpets that grew in the Foothills, even if the grass was a little dry on occasion. He was a lumbering creature, often, but regardless he enjoyed the world of singing birds and smiling creatures. He had not yet met a Helovian who was outright bad-tempered, although Insanity had been, indeed, quite aloof; and so off he went with a whisk of his dirty, tangled, and matted tail.
Perhaps at long last he would find a dragon; one of the magnificent fire-breathing creatures. Maybe not; but it was nice to hope to see a flash of gem-like scales, ruby or sapphire or sweet yellow, or even violet. It would be lovely to see the pale membranes of sweeping wide wings, and the glitter of red flames. But he did not, not since entering Helovia, a note which gravely disappointed him.
"H-hello?" Argetlam blinks, slowing to a halt. For there two massive horses in the leafy embrace of the Threshold, and they seemed to appear out of nowhere. While not a coward, he did not love nor exactly embrace everything as a few might; a little wary, maybe, would be a good word. Or shy, would be better. The mare is gifted with twining antlers that rise above her head in sweeps and curls; and he is jealous, and enthralled. Who is she? Could he make antlers like that? Out of the veins of metal in the ground? Maybe... "I am Argetlam, stallion of the Foothills." He tries very hard to keep his voice soft and steady, yet it quavers a little around the edges. "You are in Helovia." The crafter continues, with a bit of a smile to his face. Helovia, home of fleeing Isilmanians and many strange wanderers indeed.
With fire to keep us warm & tools we made from rocks and bones </style>
Gaucho took a step towards the mare, appearing to have no interested or respect for personal space. Though it was quite clear that he meant no offense; his steely gaze was cast towards her sooty antlers with great interest. Were hers bonded with magic, too? Recently, Gaucho had been in the Heavenly Fields - called really - by an odd chanting. There, he found an abandoned set of antlers. Upon further investigation, they magically jumped into the air and bonded themselves to his forehead. The dream-catcher infused between the antlers, also possessed magic, to call upon spirits if ever his blood should be spilled. As he looked at Avalon now, he wondered if she held similar magic in her antlers? Or perhaps in her feathers?
Tilting his head slightly, he tapped a spine of his antler against hers, as if the commonality of their appearance was some sort of unspoken bond. Before he could answer her, another stallion lumbered into the scene. Grunting, Gaucho swung his shoulders towards the equine, arching his neck in a masculine and aggressive manner. Raising his tail, he snorted and took a step towards the stallion, eyes narrowed. He did not smell of the Throat, and the name he introduced himself with sounded like the noise Gaucho made when trying to rid his throat of dust. Snapping his tail around his hocks, he wondered if the stallion felt he had some claim to this mare, given that they were both equines. If so, Gaucho could lay the same claim, given that they both had magical-antlers.
Given Gaucho's poor schooling when it came to social responsibility, he turned to look at Avalon, rather softly. "Do you need a home?" He asked, each word coming out rather slowly as if he had to recall each one separately. Of course he was bias, but he would take her back to the Dragon's Throat if she would be willing. Furrowing his brow, he wondered was the throat-noise-stallion's home could offer, that was better than the Throat. They were a defensive stronghold, a utopia in the desert, and Gaucho had seen many mares who Avalon might find interesting. Or stallions.
Naberius arrived in the Threshold, it was the only time since his own arrival in Helovia he had set hoof here. Déjà vu flooded over him as he weaved his way through the abundant amount of trees and that decorated the gateway to the rest of Helovia. It was not long ago that he stood here unaware of who, or what, he would meet and was greeted by a vixen who called herself Faelene. She took him home with her, and sadly not in the way he had hoped. However that was neither here nor there, she wasn’t exactly his type anyway, for upon reaching his new home of the Aurora Basin he was received by none other than Psyche, the Basin’s Lady. It was for her on this day he ventured into the Threshold once more, he desired to impress her and work his way up in her ranks by recruiting stooges for her. Ok so…that’s not exactly true. Honestly it wasn’t for her at all but yet another selfish act that Abe was so well known for, well everywhere else but here anyway, though if asked he would say he had only the paramount interests of the herd in mind…first and foremost.
Abe inhaled deeply scanning the air for any crisp and titillating aromas. He was uncertain exactly what he was looking for, the only requirement he knew of was that any fresh blood must be of the horny persuasion. I low chuckle left him at this inside joke as he perused the vicinity with his amber optics. Naberius planned to bring at least one new soul home today and he felt as if by doing so whomever he graced with an invitation was being given quite the gift. In Abe’s mind the Basin was a rather astonishing sight to be seen and not everyone was offered to call it home, so those who were asked should be nothing but obliged to accept.
“Ah there we are…”
He murmured as he caught a whiff of what appeared to be a group of equines gathering nearby, two males and a female. It was not the dual stallions that peeked Naberius’s interest but the damsel that stood with them. Abe fancied himself a Casanova, he enjoyed the ladies and figured most of them seemed to like him too. He saw nothing wrong with wanting to ensure that the population of the Basin didn’t turn into a sausage fest and therefore had decided that he would seek out typically ovary bearing creatures to persuade to return with him. Though that didn’t mean all the boys were out. Abe had considered if a stag looked significantly impressive he might attempt to collect him…maybe.
Picking up his gate Naberius quickly made his way toward the cluster trusting he wasn’t too late and the femme hadn’t already elected a home. Though Abe had confidence that he might be able to sway her decision even so. As he approached the group he quickly analyzed the scene and came to realize that strangely enough he was the slightest of the lot. This recognition brought a cheeky grin to Abe’s maw as he observed the varying builds and hues of each horse that stood before him. What an interesting bunch indeed… he mused mutely. From the bloke with the bone through his nose to the towering feather adorned broad he could safely say he had never seen anything like any of them before. Stepping forward Naberius let his presence be known to the three and his audits listened to the tail end of their conversations. The winged demon had a slowness to him, one that made Abe wonder if he was “all there.” His sluggish speech and odd mannerisms seemed awfully savage and primitive, like he belonged in a time that had long passed. He certainly was no scholar by any means. The other brute was a rather dreadful specimen. From his stutter to his ugly mug Naberius felt nothing but pity for the fellow. Then there was the mare. Never in his full eight years on this earth had he ever seen a woman that big and for a second Naberius had to stop and just look at her. She wasn’t bad on the eyes, he had to admit, but her stature was rather imposing and he kind of lost his “game” for a moment.
Tossing his skull to bring himself back to reality Naberius strode forward yet again to join them. He couldn’t let his true nature come out in this encounter he could tell, there was something about the duchess that scream ’I don’t put up with douchebags,’ and since douchebag was primarily what made up Naberius he figured he’d tuck that bit of himself away for a while and play nice. Smiling he looked around and made eye contact with each one of them before setting his sights on the dame and letting his smooth baritone enter the atmosphere.
“Hello lovely. I see you’ve already found yourself quite the welcoming committee.”
Naberius grinned; his tone was mildly flirtatious but much less than usual.
“The brute speaks correctly; you have found yourself in Helovia. Now I’m going to cut to the chase because I’m sure you’d love to explore more of this exceptional land. You are in the Threshold, the gateway to this region, and here members of different herds will try to recruit you. That is precisely what all three of us are here to do. I am a warrior of a herd that dwells in the Aurora Basin. You look to be a lady who appreciates the beauty in the world are you not? Well I can assure you there are wonders to behold in the Basin like you’ve never seen. Things I thought were only possible in dreams. You are welcome to accompany me to my home, or our home if you see fit, and behold for yourself. No need to make hasty decisions either if you’d rather weigh your options.”
Abe let his monologue end and looked her in the eye; well…up at her actually. It felt weird being so proper but he knew it was the best course of action in this case. By the looks of the wench she could be a real asset to the Basin, or a real asset to the enemy.
{ ooc: omg sorry its so long...I haven't done a threshold type post in forever. Its super lame haha. }
The stallion stepped forward and Avalon was unsure of his intentions. However, it proved to be just a small move of curiosity as he tapped her antlers. Perhaps she wasn't the only one curious here. Perhaps there was some shared curiosity between the two? However, it wasn't something she lingered long on for another stallion showed up... with a stutter.
Avalon backed up slightly from the new stallion. She then watched as Gaucho stepped forward towards Argetlam in an aggressive and defensive manner. It amused her slightly, to see it happen so, but she showed no signs of it and instead retained her serious expression. After all, she didn't suppose this was a time to be joking. She could tell when those times arose and now just simply was not one of them.
Gaucho's question brought many thoughts to be put on the table. She thought for a second then dipped her head with a warm grin "It would be lovely." And it would. A home was something she had yet to have. However, she didn't know where Argetlam came from and she was never one to judge. She smiled towards Argetlam and took a step forward slightly. "It's nice to meet you, Argetlam." There was no doubt she would be choosing the home she thought best. Thus, she needed to keep her options open all the while being friendly to those whom reciprocated the same true friendliness. Not a charade.
And if Gaucho didn't like Argetlam appearing, he more than likely would not take a liking to the next contestant to appear. Avalon smiled warmly at Naberius then nodded, she wondered if this was all of them's intentions. But then again, whom was he to call someone a brute? Perhaps they had know one another? Perhaps that was the reason. But she also began to wonder, was their sot behavior just a front? And once she said yes, what did she join into?
Argetlam blinks in slight shock as the pegasus rounds onto him, dropping his head, antlers gleaming in the sunlight, the crest of his neck sharp against the backdrop of soft brown and green. Despite the stallion's size, he feels dwarfed by this stallion who acts immediately so aggressive, and Argetlam takes a step back, hooves scraping against the hard earth. Then the pegasus brusquely turns back, making rough vocal sounds that sound hardly more than grunting, leaving Argetlam feel considerably confused, mind muddled.
Yet the mare smiles at him, and takes a small step closer. A smile lifts her face, and she seems genuine, and she replies in a voice that leaves the slow stallion more at ease. Naturally, he is still uncomfortable in the presence of the tall, tribal stallion, but maybe he has a friend in the midst of the confusion. "It is good to meet you."
The Threshold was a place where many meet in order to try and put their hand down, clutch and grasp and pull them away, take them back to respective herds. It was surprising to find a horse alone, to say, and it could be a challenge to find a horse suitable for the herd anyways. Yet Argetlam, despite the temptation to leave it be when what else but another animal came, felt the mare needed the choice of Foothills. He, of all the equines here, seemed more gentle and open, the peace-keeper of the pegasus and the unicorn.
For it was a unicorn who came, gold and white, a curved horn from his head, the air of arrogance around him. It was so unlike Argetlam to be brimming with confidence he felt ever more embarassed in company of a horse exploding with vanity. "I respect any choice you make. I find my own home an enjoyable, peaceful place, called the Windtossed Foothills; but of course I would, otherwise I would not live there. I hope you will return with me, but it is up to you." The dapple gray stallion said softly, blinking his kind amber eyes. It was true, and genuine of him; he hoped that would be conveyed clearly in his shaking, too gentle voice.
With fire to keep us warm & tools we made from rocks and bones </style>
Avalon was quite right; Gaucho was not overly impressed with the appearance of yet another stallion. Unlike the other two, Gaucho made no attempt to his his true nature or his purpose here. Of course he was here to try and offer Avalon a home in his herd; at least he had the balls to act like it. Wings still spread, he moved with the same aggressiveness towards Naberius, narrowing his steely blue-grey eyes. A snarl moved silently across his lips, as he squared himself against the paint, dully listening to what he had to say. Eyes glazing over somewhat, he regarded most of it as just meaningless fluff. The creatures here - they made so many sounds, spoke so many words, and yet none of them said anything; nothing of importance anyway.
Eyeing the stallion one last time, Gaucho returned to look at Avalon. He could feel all of the things he wished to express, but knew not the words to do so. The Foothills were a stagnant herd - nothing of interest ever happened there..and the Basin? The Basin was full of racism and strife, so he had heard. But the Throat? The Throat were a family...they protected each other and stood by one another. The Throat had the only real sense of leadership, of structure!...or so Gaucho believed, from what he saw and heard. Yet he was unable to communicate this sense of spirit and belonging that he associated with the Throat. Grunting, a sound which expressed his frustration, he shook his antlered head wearily. Lips twitching, it was clear he was trying to piece together a sentence. Finally, after much deliberation, Gaucho spoke.
"Basin...bad" He began expressively, his voice sounding earnest and deep. "Foothills are..." Frowning, his brow furrowed as he tried to find the words he needed. "Are...boring. Grassy. Throat is strong, Throat protect Avalon." As he spoke of the Throat, his voice became more expressive and genuine sounding in his attempt to describe his homeland. "Throat is warm - with...oh-oh-aye-sis" He said slowly, trying to sound out "oasis", yet fumbling to do so. "Throat is best." He concluded finally with a nod.
Avalon looked at Gaucho with sincere eyes. He was trying to figure out the words to say, but Avalon couldn't help but notice his difficulty trying to find the appropriate words. Needless to say, he managed to put feeling and thought behind those words. When speaking about his home, he was very enthusiastic about it, she could tell.
And everything he spoke of, sounded great. Warmness, an oasis, she came to the conclusion it was like a desert. It sounded great! Along with the fact of protection and a herd that had leadership. However, the Foothills were grassy and from what Argetlam had said, peaceful and enjoyable. The paint stallion had said there were beautiful sites in the Aurora Basin but Gaucho had one word to describe that place and that was plain and simple 'bad'.
But of course, all of the stallion's statements were biased. They all favored their own herd. So what were the actual cons to their herds? Avalon had three choices to pick from and she was quickly trying to narrow it down. The first to put aside, however, was the Aurora Basin. Sites in the world were beautiful, but she liked the others more. That was done.
She was left with the Foothills or Dragon Throat. A life of relaxing boringness with nothing going on (as far as what she had picked up) or a life of excitement and what not. They were both accepting, as far as she was concerned and that was strictly what she was going for, as well as a good choice, of course. Gaucho put it best in the end.
"I have been presented with wonderful herds, that's for certain." Avalon let her words linger as if checking herself and her decisions. She sought for suspense as well and finally decided to make it official. "Argetlam's herd sounds wonderful," she looked at Argetlam in the eyes with an apologetic look "And the Aurora Basin sounds beautiful," she looked at the paint stallion here, then looked at Gaucho with a smile "But I do believe, I will be following Gaucho home, tonight."
Avalon looked at Argetlam and Naberius with a friendly look then nodded her head "I thank you both kindly for the offers."
The filly's gait was smooth, a glide of a walk, moving her swiftly through the trees. Her lithe frame pulled itself to a halt when she spotted three stallions and a mare. Moving closer with hesitant steps, the beautiful blue-eyed Pegasus spoke.
"Hello. I am Nefertari..." Her voice was a soft soprano, light and melodious. "Former member of the Throat... Daughter of Leander. I was separated from the herd along with my brother, and we were attacked. He sacrificed himself to save me..."
Her tone was cautious now, eyes flicking nervously to the Throat stallion, large and aggressive looking. "I'm looking for my father now. A friend found me and is helping me search for him. Please-- do any of you know where he is? Have you heard of his whereabouts? Anything?"
Her blue eyes blazed with a passionate heat as she spoke. The tall, graceful filly gazed at them with hope in her eyes, wishing desperately one of them would know the answer to her question.
If they did, if they knew where to find her father, she would go back and get Lynx, then they would go to Leander together. She missed her father something terrible. Turning her eyes back to the Throat stallion, she nickered softly,
"When you return to your home... There is a unicorn there, Montague. If you know him, please tell him I said hello, and that I miss him. That is, if he's still there."
Looking at the mare and the other two stallions with that hope still blazing in her beautiful blue eyes, the filly shifted her weight and rustled her wings nervously, snow-white pelt shining. The sunlight lit on the silvery, jagged scars down her flanks, lighting them up and furthering the contrast between the colors.
The large cats that had taken her brother's life were responsible for the scars. Sighing quietly, the filly waited quite desperately for their answers.
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