Kri the Resolute Posts: 243
| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.3hh :: 10 Buff: NUMB |
| Boom Boom! |
I MADE A THRONE FOR HOPE TO SIT.</style>
A breeze grows steadily in the limbs of the World's Edge, and I ride behind the invisible fingers which weave in and out of the branches. I land upon the soft loam of the forest floor, my hooves meeting the mist that my magic has expelled from the area in thin strips that remain behind, as if the Moon Goddess herself commanded them to stay. I walk softly through the trees, weaving in and out until I am hidden well within the reaches of the forest. Unfriendly ears would be unwelcomed for this conversation, but Mirage and I had much to speak about. Life had brought many challenges to the Qian and the Tuuli since our last meeting during the invasion of this land. Now, standing alone amid the shadows of the trees, I can feel the distance between us has grown. I had no idea what the Qian had been shouldering, and Mirage had no idea of my own burdens.
This meeting had been put off for far too long. Mirage was my oldest remaining friend here in the land of Helovia, and the distance between us was disheartening. I had abandoned my allies for far too long and had not even personally visited after the pilfering of their members from their borders by the Basin. It was true that politically I chose to persue their enemies, capturing members of the unicorns and holding them prisoner within my borders, but as for actual support, had I been a friend?
If Mirage chose to have audience with me, then I suppose I was friend enough. Loosening the pressure of the air around me, I call outward, a summoning for the lady of shadows and gold to answer. The threat posed by the Basin's racism, the threat posed by Tio's foolish admittance of an invasion scheme, and the mystery of the Grey hung around my head. Hopefully, the DragonHeart would be more able than I to clear the mists. "We have much to discuss, Mirage of the Qian," I say, my voice light following the call which echoed off the trunks of the trees and furthered itself in the forest. "Much has happened."
[ OOC: For Mirage and her trusted counsel. Midas, Sumati and Azzuen (or Cirrus) have permission to join if they wish. ]
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image by mandj98 @ flickr.com
Mirage the DragonHeart Posts: 414
| Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9 | dam: 6 |
| Mare :: Equine :: 15.3 :: Eighteen HP: 68.5 | Buff: ENDURE |
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Akaith :: Royal Golden Dragon :: Fire Breath
Whit |
Was it not the mark of true friendship, when one's loyalties never waver, never deviate, even though the trials of time and distance would seek to keep a comrade separated? To live so far from one's brethren, and never question whether that friendship still stood, just knowing, without a shadow of a doubt, that it would be there the next time it was tested. Mirage knew this of her winged sister, of the mare she had met on her travels through the lands, in that blurry time of endless wandering between her fleeing the destruction of Isilme, the dawning of Anarore, and the discovery of Helovia. The chocolate maiden would always find herself welcomed by the little shadow mare, and Mirage was perhaps foolish to assume the same consideration would always be given in return. Did she take their relationship for granted? Or did she simply consider Kri to be like a sister to her, family, where something deeper than mere promises of loyalties, something akin to bloodties, held them together?
Time and distance had grown too far apart recently, however, it was well past the time to reconnect with her closest ally, the one who had aided her in securing this home, just as Mirage had done for her, and would do so again if the time was ripe for war, for the sake of her friend and ally.
Much had happened since their last sighting of each other. That was at the death of a throat member, a strange hybrid gelding who fell after the invasion of this land, whose life had been absorbed by another, stolen after he had so valiantly fought for his brethren. But he had fought by his own choice, and died an honourable death, at least, the little shadow thought, hoped as much. What had happened since that evening of death and destruction? The Edge had been given to her, the mists of the lands had accepted her rule, even the strange Seer of the lands did not refute her authority. She had been stolen away from the lands then, to the north, where she had waited until the poison had left her system and called upon her magic once more. In her escape, she had somehow managed to break other prisoners free, to bring home the one who held her captive as a comrade, a friend who would stand by her, not against her. She had reconfirmed her position as Leader of this herd, even with her absence, she had a proud herd who followed her, willingly, proudly.
The call that summoned her forth was met by awaiting ears, nerves standing hairs on end as the little shadow drifted through the trees like a nymph, pushed forward by excitement at the prospect of spying her ally of the wind once more. Her words were serious, and Mirage treated them as such, but that did not stop her from stepping from clutches of darkness that rimmed the trees and pressing her plush muzzle against the side of Kri's cocoa hued nape, blowing her warm greeting to her fellow with no hesitance or doubt as to how she would be received.
"Indeed, Kri of the Tuuli. Indeed." Was all she said in agreement, her tones quiet, her ears awaiting for news of the Throat with obedient erectness as her chassis moved to stand before her friend. A dragon, small and gold, glimmered quietly in the trees above, flicking her tail lazily to and fro, offering nothing more than a nearly silent warble in greeting before shifting her weight upon the branch, and settling to see what might unfold.
[ Rishima, Lace and Ink have permission to post here if they so desire. ]
larfsalot.deviantart.com
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| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Equine :: 16.2 hh :: 6 years |
| Blu |
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I hear her land, more than I see her shape fall from the heavens; there is little fog here is so willing to reveal to the eyes. So it is I am already making my way towards the assumed landing region when I hear the muffled murmur of voices too distant for clarity. My curiosity is piqued however, as I recognize Mirage's tongue as the owner of one, and the tones seem unhurried and cool, though rarely have I known Mirage to speak in any other manner.
My first instinct is of course, that this is an intruder come to us. Although the conflict with the Basin seems to have subsided as of late, I wear the memory like a deep wound in my mind and it is quick to bleed when disturbed. I consider now however, as I slip quietly through the woods and mist, that it is something all together different. I can only begin to fathom what, which makes my mouth water at the prospect of such new and vital information.
In less selfish reasons, I approach to aid Mirage, proffering my presence as support of her reign and as an able body to respond to whatever needs she may ask, so long as they be something in my range of capabilities.
I emerge from the veil of the land like a shadow rather than a horse. I come from the right side of mirage, slightly in front of her, and so it is I come to rest between her and the chocolate pegasus, angled somewhat more towards the DragonHeart. I say nothing, as is customary, but instead turn my inquisitive gaze upon the desert mare. I know little of Kri, but I recognize her from the earlier days of the Qian. I am reminded once more, that I need to get out of this herd more often. I feel as if I still know so little of it, that I cannot afford to lift my eyes from the treeline, but in the depths of my conscious I understand how much more foolish it is to be blind to the rest of the outside world.
Perhaps I could tour the Throat, at Kri's consent.
I suppose I should wait and see what this meeting brings before I make vacation plans. |
Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.
| Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6 |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.1 :: 8 HP: 69 | Buff: SWIFT |
| Whit |
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The sadness that plagued my beloved was difficult to ignore, it ran so deep, and felt so permanent, I could not help but walk with my eyes downcast, my ears pinned against my dark skull. Despite the heat of the season bearing down upon us, a constant, gloomy chill seems to follow us around, a misty drizzle that leaves me with an annoyed dampness in my fur, even when the elemental flame ignites along my spine. It has been a handful of days since the passing of one of the most important figures in our lives, and they have all posed similar outlooks; gloom, darkness, depression. I sigh heavily, as I done so often recently, plagued by the sadness myself but willing to move on, if only she would too. Her thoughts never drift far from the event, from when we found he body, lying there, motionless; dead. I try to instil my own images, my own thoughts into the equation, trying to impress upon her the gleaming fire of hope we were shown by the Gods after his death, and the gift they had bestowed upon her.
It was not that I longed for her to forget about him, for that was something that would be impossible, I simply longed for her to accept his death, just as one accepts that sometimes tragedies happen, and they are unexplainable. I wanted the grief to move on, the dark raincloud that hovered ominously both above her and upon her pelt to shift, to reveal the sunny blue skies and bright smiles that I knew existed in there. But it was as stubborn as the belle herself, determined to linger, to damage, to scar so deeply that it would take years to scab over. I held faith that that would not happen, that she would heal sooner; I would ensure it was so.
Thoughts drifted, as they so often did, to the events leading up to the death of our father, for he was truly a figure of paternity to me. There was a crisis afoot, a threat to our herd, a promise of chaos in the near future, and he was not here. He had left us, and in his wake, he had left a gaping hole. He had always been supportive of our Leader, the compact, cocoa hued little mare who so effortlessly led us to victory time and again against any foe. Just as replayed any words he might have said in the past, I heard his voice echo about the cranium of my little cloud now, declaring their warrior's fit for the trial to come, announcing proudly his support for his leader, offering to fly by her side when she went to reaffirm alliances, and to warn their allies of the threat. He was not here now, and perhaps it was a mark of maturity in my little bondmate that she felt responsible for ensuring his promise was fulfilled.
So when Kri took her leave of the sandy home we inhabited, we followed. I had sat upon the back of my beloved before, but never in the skies. She promised to fly straight and steady for me, and I trusted her, though I will admit that fear gripped at my heart for most of the adventure. I whined quietly in the ears of my beloved as she flew, and she sympathised for a few minutes before promptly telling me to 'shut up'. Sulky, yet determined to show her that I could handle this, I silenced my worrisome voice and merely held on with my body and paws to the strong, young bodice of my little cloud. Flying is something that I am undecided about still, at least flying as a passenger. It is terrifying, exhilarating, efficient and downright dangerous. But we landed, intact, beside the chocolate form of our leader, upon the borders of the Worlds Edge herd.
I jump without hesitation from the height of her shoulders, shaking myself, accidently igniting the flames along my back as I did so. A breeze still followed us, one that was too chilly to be a normal breeze, and I knew that it was my little cloud's sadness, her melancholy evident by the fact that it was she standing here and not Azzuen. Obediently she sidled up to the leader, the stoic mare who had proved herself time and again to her and the Dragon's Throat herd, nodding her delicate tiara to al that had gathered. Large paws dragged my dark bodice over the loam, my nostrils working hard to store as much details as I could about the salty air, and those who would live by it, similarly to us, though instead of being rimmed by a beach, they were rimmed by cliff faces. I look between the two dark figurines that have stepped forth to greet us so far, and wonder, was this a land where only shadows resided? As I pull myself alongside the sturdy foreleg of my beloved, I notice her pelt is as dark and stormy as the shadow creatures standing before us, and I can only internally shake my head at her depression, her predicament is not easy, and soon I would need to chase it away with more force. For now, nothing more than our presences were needed, and so we stood, silent, supportive, statues of a promise that would not be forgotten.
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as changing as unforgiving as the wind, as bitter and chilling as the cold, as warm and deadly as the heat
I enjoy being tagged.
please do not feel pressured into mirroring the length of any of my posts
I write what I feel at the time
and hope everyone else does the same c:
Kri the Resolute Posts: 243
| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.3hh :: 10 Buff: NUMB |
| Boom Boom! |
I MADE A THRONE FOR HOPE TO SIT.</style>
She came like a shadow, much like the day we had first met. Two years had passed between then, but the days did not seem to add to her calm, sleek exterior. It moved with eerie grace through the trees, meeting my own dark eyes with a smile on her face.
Golden eyes peered out ahead, like the sun in the middle of the forest.
I proffer my own smile, though it is heavy. An uneasy weight resting on my shoulders from the threat of invasion, the promised aid of my soldiers to the Grey, and the recent death of my beloved General, the loss of my family. My heart does not burst with joy it has known most of my life. Instead, it falters, riding uneasily on the edge of sorrow - a painful knife pressed into my arteries. Still, I express my gratitude in her presence with a mere nod, finding myself weary of harboring this challenge by myself. There were times in my home that I forgot my burden was not solely my own. In this land of Helovia, I still had friends to call upon. Friends. Mirage the Dragonheart would answer my call and I hers, for whatever end we would meet with each other.
I allow the small gesture of familiarity, the slight embrace and warm breath on my neck, as I return the act by a solemn version. I was not as worn with sorrow as the young mare at my side, draped in clouds, but we were a sorry sight for our friends of the Edge. Too long had we tried to withstand our grievances alone. I should be better and remember that a quick trip to the forests of the North is all that is required to land myself in the company of my beloved family, a second extension of my heart and a welcome joy to my eyes.
I notice an inky black stallion move from the trees as well, though his movements are subdued and respectful. I look toward him and offer a solemn nod, before turning my attention back to the mare who wore the crown of the World's Edge.
"Troubled times have befallen my home since we last met," I begin, not attempting to hold her in suspense for long. "I have been challenged repeatedly for my title by idiots, and recently, a stallion by the name of Tio has waltzed into our borders and warned us of his plans to invade. I am worried sister, for even a fool can wreck everything if luck falls on their side." I pause, taking a breath before continuing on. "I sought out the leaders of the Grey, as I know their soldiers to be for hire. I have committed my forces to aid them in what I assume to be an invasion of a land to avoid Tio taking advantage of their strengths. Judging by sheer numbers, I believe they are targeting the Foothills, though Ophelia told me little. I know you hold them to your heart as friends, but I cannot." My eyes look sorrowful, but I am far from yielding my home to Tio just to hold alliances of my friends in place. "I will not ask you to fight alongside the Grey and me, but I do not believe you would have even if I had asked." I smile at her, knowing that she holds her word in high regard.
"Invasion will be upon the Throat in time, and we are ill-prepared..." My voice drags and my dark eyes fall to the floor, my heart growing heavier in my chest, almost as if it were designed with lead. "Our honored General has fallen, and we are weaker without his strength." I look up, toward her golden eyes. "I hope that when war comes to the front lines of the Dragon's Throat I can continue to lean upon you for support, my old friend."
"There is also the issue of the Basin," I say, my eyes looking more fiery as I speak of it. "I had gone to the Basin to make a neutrality agreement with the Lady Psyche, but when I returned a stallion by the name of Valentine sought refuge in my home. He is a former member of the Northern land, and he spoke of a greater evil than the idiot Tio." My voice becomes very serious, dropping to a quieter tone as if I were afraid to mention the blasted thing. "Much like Adalwulf the Steadfast, Psyche is harboring a clan of racists. Valentine spoke of their plans to murder other species. Their home has long been offered only to unicorns, even under the reign of Mauja in this very forest. This is the cause."
"War will come to us all, Mirage, and when it does, our lives depend upon our ability to be ready."
""
[ Sorry for the wait.]
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image by mandj98 @ flickr.com
Mirage the DragonHeart Posts: 414
| Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9 | dam: 6 |
| Mare :: Equine :: 15.3 :: Eighteen HP: 68.5 | Buff: ENDURE |
|
Akaith :: Royal Golden Dragon :: Fire Breath
Whit |
He arrives, silent as the substance for which he is named. Ink Akaith even chortles within Mirage's cranium, having taken a liking to him and the drawings he oftentimes orchestrates. He was a subtle creature, a perfect spy, capable of soaking up information like a sponge, whilst keeping the givers of the information ignorant to that fact. It was unfortunate that his voice refused to work, but if it did work, Mirage wondered if he would be nearly as useful, or willing, as he was now. No, she would not have him change at all, both she and Akaith enjoyed him as he was, not only because he served them with obedience and loyalty, but because he was a unique soul who had willingly become their friend. The WeyrLeader offered him the tilting of her crown, a warm gesture when performed by a mare of subtleties, a nod granting him permission to put his rank to use - he was Spectre after all, it was better for him to gain the information now than rely upon the (while still good, but certainly imperfect) memory of Mirage.
Kri had brought a sister from her homeland here, and the shadowy little mare proffered the same greeting to her, nodding her Arabic visage, drinking in all she could of the little belle. The breeze that rushed through the trees was different, as if renewed, refilled with an energy not borne of the Edge - Mirage spied the turbulent pelt of the child-like healer, and with nothing more than a curious peak of her brow raising, she diverted her attention back to the chocolate femme. All the happiness in being reunited with Kri had faded somewhat, as the seconds dripped by, creeping ever closer to the time when she would speak the reasons for this mood. In those seconds, Mirage could only assume by the silent body language that the news was solemn indeed, and she mentally braced herself for it.
Challenges, invasions, death and racism. All of it Mirage was loath to hear, all of it she wished had not befallen her beloved sister herd. Just as though they were one and the same, she felt their pain anew, as if someone had taken a whip afresh across her back, lancing at her hide. Akaith's scales prickled much like a bird's feathers, and from her vantage in the trees, she cawed a strange, worried tune, a song that spoke of the torment that she and Mirage went through upon hearing this news, despite the WeyrLeader's never-changing cool exterior. It was small, the little ways in which Kri's words affected her; a small tremor of a muscle, as if shooing a fly away where no fly had landed; a light wetting of the eyes, a small pool of tears that just as quickly dissipated and may as well not have been there; a sorrowful downwards curve of her lips; a sigh that shuddered a little bit too much when exiting her maw. It was a lot to take in, and while Mirage was not shaken by fear for what may come, she was perhaps, shaken by the fact that she suspected things like this would come, eventually - but why now? Why so soon? Why couldn't her beloved Qian's time last longer?
"I thank you, Kri, for understanding my stance on this invasion. I will support you, by not standing in your way - those who call themselves Qian, even in the Foothills, shall not fight. All I can offer is the attentions of my healers after the battle." Quietly she began, each word thought out and presented with her melodic, accented tones. It was difficult for her to riddle out the best course of action - was she betraying the Foothills? She knew the might of Kri's army, she knew the Foothills were as good as gone just with this conversation. Was it treacherous for her to not help defend them against this force? Against the Throat? She could march on the same side as the Throat - but then the Foothills truly would be pulverised - it was unnecessary, and besides, they were her allies. No, in order to preserve what alliances she could, she had to sit this one out, no matter the pain and discomfort it caused her conscience.
"My deepest sympathies for your fallen General; may he rest forevermore peacefully, may the wind always fill his wings."
Here the dark mare reached out to try and touch upon the Sultana's own soft nose, just a gentle brushing of velveteen muzzles. Pools of aureate looked to the little belle who stood so gloomy by her leader's side, and it was all Mirage could do to restrain herself from pulling the child into a warm embrace, to try and chase that gloom away. There was little she could do however, for she knew not what to say or do, and so she merely looked back to Kri and continued her speech. "The Protectors of the World's Edge would not hesitate to defend the Throat as if it were their own resting place." Mirage confirmed with a still quiet, but slightly stronger voice now, nodding to reaffirm the words' powers and meaning. "I will keep an eye out for this Tio creature." She added, glancing over to Ink, a silent order in her stare at him. "In the meantime, it would do well to have our warriors trek across the land to become better acquainted with the lands they would both be defending."
And now the matter of racism.. Adalwulf was a name that rattled around Mirage's memory like an old, faded photo floating on a breeze, dancing just out of her reach before she could finally grasp it. Yes, she had met the pale stallion, at least once, in the presence of Gunslinger. Oh, how different would the circumstances been had she lingered in Isilme, to see the effects the wars of the demi-gods had upon the lands, upon the inhabitants?! What if she had been swept away by the stallions, what if she had believed all that they said? But you did not. Came the voice of the one familiar she would always recognise. No, Mirage had always held onto her own beliefs, she had learned that it mattered little what adorned one's body; it was what adorned one's soul that mattered. "We will not be murdered." Her voice began, and into it, leaked some of the emotion that had been building up throughout this entire interaction.
"We shall not be moved. We shall not be murdered. We shall not fall to the pits of racism and serve others who think themselves more mighty than all else. We will defend ourselves against them; they shall not rise victorious. We will exploit their weaknesses and we will triumph."
"We are strong, my friend. Together, we shall not fail to survive this tumultuous world."
larfsalot.deviantart.com
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| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Equine :: 16.2 hh :: 6 years |
| Blu |
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A new excitement rushes through me as my gaze settles upon Cirrus, causing my head to bob with enthusiasm and my eyes to dance like disturbed liquid. Her gaze remains rather downcast, though, and for a moment I pause, frightened that she has forgotten me. I had thought her a friend then, but it has been so long, perhaps I am foolish to think the ties endure that time and distance.
Then again, isn't that what this meeting is all about?
A creature leaps from her shoulders and my head jerks back towards my chest suddenly, surprised by the companion she has since bonded to. He is peculiar, though I have seen some others similar. I tend to keep my distance from companions, they are strange and unknown to me but not nearly as fascinating as my own kind. He only proves to me how little I know of my friends Cirrus, and how much can change so fast.
I frown.
Her coat dazzles me as always, but rather than the gay splendor of a Tallsun day, she is dark with a private gloom that surrounds her. I glance up to the skies, half expecting rain to come tumbling down, but all I truly see is fog.
She is glum.
I think perhaps she has not forgotten me, but is troubled. All the same, she has changed, and I feel naive for expecting her to be as she was that ...my it was a whole year ago wasn't it? She has grown now, and taken a rank I am sure.
My gaze drifts back towards Kri who has begun to speak. Cirrus travels with the lead, so she must have some title of importance. I glance back to Mirage, my Dragonheart, and smile gently. How alike she and I are in this instant, Cirrus and I, each two gangly youths astride the wisened and mighty leads of our time.
My attention is soon enough consumed by the words Kri and Mirage exchange. They have much to say, but nothing is wasted breath between them. I am not truly surprised by the promise of war, mentioned nearly three different times in different ways, though it does make me sigh to myself. I have much work to do, I think, if I am to help this cause.
At her initial mention of Tio, the threat to her own land, my tail stirs and I draw a black horse. I glance towards her with heavy eyes and a question in the lines of my face. I want her to tell me of him, to show him for me. A name is nothing in this world.
The Grey is a word I am barely familiar with, and I make a note to become more acquainted with them. It puts us in a difficult spot however, what Kri shares with us, and I cannot help but steal a look to Mirage to see her reaction. As always she is composed and prepared, selecting the best of the worst options she has available. The act to sacrifice one ally for another is no easy decision I'm sure, but she stands strong.
News of the Basin is shocking, and yet I am not wholly surprised. Their demeanor was never welcoming to my knowledge and their tactics often sour. Mirage and Kri speak of defending ourselves against them, but I cannot help but wonder why we can't rally to drive them out. They already weaken themselves by preferring only an army of horned ones, while we surround ourselves with the best from all species. We are surely stronger than they in might, though I think they have driven and icy spike of fear into our hearts that keeps us at bay. They have the numbers, this I know, but more than that they have no morality. We would defeat them, but they would destroy us if given the chance.
All the better reason to act before they can, I think. I am not keen on the ways of warfare however, so I do not speak out of turn. |
Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.
| Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6 |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.1 :: 8 HP: 69 | Buff: SWIFT |
| Whit |
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My little cloud is so focussed upon the dirt between her hooves that she fails to see the reaction of the dark stallion who stands beside the one Kri calls Mirage. I feel his eyes roam over me, and I simply tilt my head, openly curious of his gaze at me, the frown that creases his brow at me. I inhale, drinking the scent of the woods, of the mares here and of the stallion before us. He smells... It is hard to place. He smells like the forest here, as he should, but there was something more, something, wet, that didn't belong to the sea I could hear with my sensitive ears crashing against the cliffs a mile away. My curiosity was great indeed, as I feel the same sensation cause a wave of distraction roll through my beloved, who looks to me quizzically, before peering upwards with he cerulean gaze, to meet the dark hide of Ink.
Instantly, a flood of memories not my own, rushes through my cranium. I am almost overwhelmed by the experience she shares with me as fast as the speed of thought - the adventure to the Steppe, the meeting of a gryphon, a mare and a young coltish stallion who possesses the ability to draw with this strange substance. Ink she had learned that day, was his name, and also the name of the substance he so expertly drew around. I tilt my head again, this time at her. My tongue lolls out of my mouth as I relax into a happy smile, taking advantage of her slightly lighter demeanour - the weather has shifted noticeably, warming up, the dappled sunlight that tries to reach through the trees seems to try harder - or perhaps it was simply the Sun God following minions of his herd across the land. I held confidence that it was my little cloud's own mood shifting, however.
She takes a step forward, a small smile upon her lips, and just before she motions to say his name, our leaders begin their discussions. Frowning slightly at the lost opportunity to speak to one she considered a friend from her childhood, she and I still turned our heads obediently to listen to the words exchanged. I felt her sadness attempt to grow once more as mention of our late father was made, and the response Mirage gave was fitting, and while it did little to lift the burden, it at least helped fill the young belle's heart with a sense of welcome here, in a land that could be considered a home away from home, should she so wish it. The weather remains clear, and so I am confident that we have taken a small step forward today, in our defeating the depression that haunts her.
Kri gives her warning to Mirage, and the dark leader reacts accordingly, declaring that we would not fall to the evil of racism or supremacy of a single species. Helovia was here to be shared by all, pegasus, equine and unicorn alike, among many other creatures - not unlike myself - who also found its lands comfortable, profitable, inhabitable. I felt the words of Mirage echo in my little cloud's mind, even as Ink drew his image - though I had seen his art through the eyes of my beloved, the simple masterpiece he drew now, that of a blank canvas of a horse awaiting the details to be etched into place, was so much more complete than the washed out version of my beloved he had drawn that day in the Steppe. Cirrus smiles at him once more, and I cannot help but broaden my own canine grin as the happy memory surfaced in her cranium once more.
But she clung still to Mirage's words, to mention of the exchanging of knowledge and skills - Willow, the healer from the Foothills, had mentioned something similar. Cirrus very much enjoyed the idea, she could see now how easily time and distance kept allies apart, even if the relationship shared between them was as solid as ever before. It would do no harm to become more familiar with these lands, and to have others travel to the Throat to do the same. "My Lady, there was talk of a Healer's meeting, where knowledge of our art would be shared for all to hear.." She hesitated slightly, unsure of whether her beloved leader already knew of this from her daughter, Onni, my beloved's own mentor. "I think the same sort of thing designed for our warriors would be beneficial." She finished, in what she thought was a bit of a lame end to her words.
A sense of duty has awakened within her, however, and for a moment, it swallows the depression, pushes it aside so that she can focus on building something grand for her herd, and their allies. Inwardly, I celebrate, and know now what to use in future to keep her mind from wandering down those dark, depressed alleyways that led only to further self-destruction and damage. My little cloud would be the cause of something great in these lands, and I was the lucky one close enough to her very soul to feel its initial stirrings.
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as changing as unforgiving as the wind, as bitter and chilling as the cold, as warm and deadly as the heat
I enjoy being tagged.
please do not feel pressured into mirroring the length of any of my posts
I write what I feel at the time
and hope everyone else does the same c:
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