the Rift


Easy Catch [Angora/Psyche]
Ascended Helovian

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
#1
Angora first please, and in a round or so I'll send Irma to Psyche if she wants to come!


His greatest flaw was his heart.

He'd not said much on the way home, just walked along in silence as the sun rose and the winds receded. The brittle grass underhoof turned to cool, crisp snow, until it surrounded them on every horizon. Once the sun rose to take its place in a pastel peach sky it struck the frost crystal, setting them all a-glitter, but he had no eyes for the glorious beauty. Haunted by the memory of his own anger, he wondered what had possessed him, what had goaded him into such a blatant display of emotion... Had it been that sense of recklessness, as the wind had whipped around him and threatened to chill him to the marrow? Or the chance of fighting, of feeling the clash of bodies, the spike of adrenaline as a blow landed upon you..? For a moment, he closed his pale eyes and walked blindly, easily stepping through the snow. Perhaps. Perhaps not. Whatever had happened, he wanted to forget it — wanted to forget the elation at the promise of blood, the sick, lunatic joy as he had seen her obliviously draw near... to forget the stab of guilt at her words. To merely command her had worked, so why, why, the frenzy? Gritting his teeth, Mauja opened his eyes again. Perhaps he was just losing himself, drowning in the confusing miasma of emotions. Perhaps he was trying too hard to be who he had been.

He heaved a tired sigh and flicked his white tail, resisting the urge to curse fates and all that. Perhaps it was just the fact that more horses than usual behaved like idiots the past weeks, and that it was constantly trying his failing control? Though he ill liked to place the blame upon others, perhaps that was how it was... He ground his teeth together.

It could just as well be his cursedly soft nature, that he needed fury to cause harm at all.

The bastion mountains of the Basin loomed on the horizon, dark and foreboding under their cloaks of last winter's snow. Chilly, yet beautiful, this place never truly thawed. Below the crunching snow the ground was frozen solid year round, and only in patches did the bare and hard earth show itself, unyielding and offering only sparse, tasteless grazing. Up ahead, Irma soared through the pale sky, casting a shadow he couldn't see where it fell. Nudged by him she abandoned her leisurely flight and sped elegantly towards the mountain pass, her keen eyes searching for signs of movement and finding none. As he led his prisoner, the buckskin Angora, to the gates of the Basin they were all alone, and, riddled by his guilty conscience and confusion, he preferred it that way. Mauja was.. cold and cruel, to an extent, yes, but it was all on the inside, like a dark shadow cast across his heart. Mauja did not let the fury ride him like the night mare riding unfortunately souls in the dark hours of night: Mauja controlled the fury, spoke in gentle, deceptive tones... He would not announce Angora's return to them all, to let them come and play with her. And so, the empty pass suited him just fine.

The sound of hooves striking rock echoed faintly around him, the day deathly quiet otherwise, and his black-rimmed ears kept swiveling upon his head, trying to catch sound of anyone nearby. Irma saw none, but he knew that some in the Basin could choose not to be seen.. though he trusted Faelene to keep quiet if she saw him return. She was not one to gloat, nor was she privy to the Plague's workings, but — he had ever been the protector of the Edge, so that he hunt down the captor of one of their herd.. surely there was nothing wrong in that?

Just before the pass opened up into the valley of the Basin, the hot springs underneath the vale thawing the earth and lush tundra grasses waving gently in the lazy breeze, Mauja ground to a halt and swept the horizon with his gaze, once. Then, he turned his head to look upon Angora — she had looked haggard already when she answered his call, how did she fare after a night's walk in the cold? He smothered the concern, and watched her with the kind of impassive look he beheld everything with these days. "I would ask you to be quiet. This is not a safe place to attract attention to one's self." His own voice was low, though there was a hint of warmth in it all the same, mirrored by the briefest shadow of his usual small smile. "Come on, this way." Motioning to the right with his head he slipped out from the pass and followed the slope, knowing that Irma circled above with a watchful eye. There were several caves scattered along the mountain walls of their home, and while he didn't intend to keep her this near the entrance if she was to stay, it was a good place to hide her away before anyone caught wind of his success. Pausing beside it's dark mouth he gestured with his muzzle for her to go in, one eye on the empty landscape. "After you."



HP3 - Double Trouble
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here

Angora Posts: 71
Deceased
Mare :: Equine :: 15hh :: Died at 6yo Buff: NOVICE
Vallie
#2
After walking for a few moments, my lust fell to an all time low. The color of the scenery faded ever so slowly into black and white. The cold surging through my veins. Time had come and gone so quickly. My life had been fast forwarding. I had only been here for just barley over a season and I had held a captive then become one myself. I had started making a small dent in Helovia. Some horses knew me, but most didn't, but I was going to become known. I hadn't come just for the fun of it. I had come with goals planted firmly in my mind. I so badly wanted to meet many more horses, but not in this way. Being ripped from the wilds and being put into a special category for prisoners was sickening.

"I would ask you to be quiet. This is not a safe place to attract attention to one's self." As his voice shut the fuck up, I snorted not caring for anything he told me. I had seen no one. So what was to be scared about? I had heard racism blossomed in a place called the Basin. Twisting my lobes backwards, I ignore everything he says. Rolling my eyes and tossing my head in boredom every once in a while. This was not a good time for this horned beast to be telling me what to do. After a few moments of his words, a soft smile plastered his face. I held a grudge and kept my stern face iron hard.

We walked some more. Some weird bird keeping a watchful eye high in the sky. Leading me to a cave, he said 'After you.' Fuck yourself bitch. I hated him now. Didn't he understand I don't like the cold, nor being a prisoner? I walked into the cave. The cave was marginally warmer since it was shielded from the winds that howled into the entrance. After I got far enough in, I turn quickly. Facing the stallion. "What do you want?" Venom dripping from my words. Each was quiet, but that was always a bad sign. It was a major red flag. When my voice gets low it means I better hear answers or I'll fuck you up. I did have magic that needed to be worked out...
Ascended Helovian

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
#3

He had been hoping that showing his gentler nature, the side of him which cared, would make her suffering easier to handle. He'd been hoping that, by giving in to him, she had known what she was facing, and would accept it with the grace of one who had chosen not to fight, and that she would understand his respect of her choice and thus his decision to try and make her stay as pleasant as he dared make it.

How very wrong he was.

Her snort made him raise his head and turn it slightly to the side to look at her. She was clearly not taking their trip into the winter world well, tossing her head and flattening her ears, obviously wanting him to know she didn't give a rat's ass about his advice. Mauja stifled the urge to slick his own ears to his neck, and just heaved a small, quiet sigh and kept going. If she wanted to be a bother, that was her problem, though it would've been a lot more pleasant for all parties involved if she'd appreciated that he was trying to protect her. Or at least, had been intending to... he wasn't quite sure what he wanted anymore, with the memory of anger so close and uncomfortable against him, yet feeling spiteful and hurt that she clearly cared so little for her own safety, and his attempts to shield her. Maybe she was just stupid and didn't understand, but that hardly made it better. Setting his jaw and steeling his gaze he paused to wait for her to pass into the cave, and watched as her golden back passed beneath his head.

With one last glance at the barren landscape he followed her into the rocky shelter, giving himself a slight shake as the warmer air pressed in on him. A little further in the sound of Angora's hooves on rock altered dramatically and she spun around, hissing at him. Unimpressed, Mauja flicked one black-rimmed ear backwards and cocked one hind leg. So this was how she wanted to do it? "Very well," he said through gritted teeth, feeling the most curious sensation, of his heart simultaneously cracking and howling for blood. Sure, he'd been worked up, a bit mad, ready to fight, but he'd given her the bloodless defeat she'd asked for.. and then he had been nice, and polite, and she acted like a bitchy little kid who could frighten him. Not a iota of appreciation for his trying to keep her arrival unnoticed by the Plague, and with the memory of her venomous voice ringing in his ears he decided that his pity had run out and he'd rather dump her at Crowley than just have a quiet, serious chat with her.

Remind me, he told Irma, something in his renewed, controlled anger transferring to the bond so the command was almost savage. To make the best of it whenever I get captured. Out in the sky she gave an indignant cry, before following his second request to go fetch Psyche. If the Dark Empress thought it a suitable punishment to become the plaything of Crowley, he'd gladly let Angora go and get thrashed.

In the cave, Mauja pinned his cold gaze upon her, all the warmth fled from his countenance and leaving only the marble statue behind. "I wanted Arah, but as you didn't, that's settled," he said in a cold voice after a while, trusting Irma to find Psyche and convince her to come here. "Now, I just want you to stay where you are and wait." His cool gaze narrowed a fraction, as if he dared to her to make a dash for freedom or some other foolish, desperate act. Her poisonous tongue had sealed her fate, and he was not going to let her get away.
Mauja Frosthjärta

Psyche's welcome any time now. <3
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here

Angora Posts: 71
Deceased
Mare :: Equine :: 15hh :: Died at 6yo Buff: NOVICE
Vallie
#4
ooc: -facepalm- 1st person doesn't work... Also, if you'd like you can use magic on her. (THAT GOES FOR ANYONE WHO JOINS THIS THREAD!! <3)

With none of the answers she wanted, she let her ears flap against her gold neck. So wild, but so not free. She was trapped in a cage. A bird with a cat guarding the enter. She turned completely away from him. Her weight shifting as her ass faced him. "Bitch." Inky lips mumbled the word as she made no eye contact. Why should she be pleasant now? Yup, take me from my home. Bring to to a fucking cold wasteland. Not explain anything, and then ask me to be pleasant? She rested her hind left hoof on it's tip. She had requested answers, but none came. Freedom was out of the question, so what was next? Was she to wait for the punishment the Ice King granted to her? She had taken note as the aura of his personality changed. Warm, to the cold his horn had offered.

Strangely, she had craved things. She was a complex being with pockets and curves. Her personality had been thrown out of whack when her admirer had dropped off the face of the earth. She craved him though. The feel of his warm muzzle caressing her shoulder. Peace surrounding them in a bubble that only they could enter. She knew it wasn't just his touch. She needed the love of stallions to fall upon her gold coat. Never has she been do helpless. Never has she been so down or anxious. She didn't want to be confined to the headquarters this stallion held her to.

The cave didn't end infront of her. A devil's smile caressed her jaw. Mauja, being behind, most likely not see it. Anywho, with her current mood, she wanted to explore the cave. It was all she had, why not look and see? She knew his gaze was locked on her. She could feel his eyes burning holes in her. Her smirk slipped from her features. She walked forward. About three long walk strides later, she saw the end of the cave. Her bode bounced up and down as her walk quickened to a trot. Not a trot, but a prance. She danced her way to the back of the cave. She stopped abruptly at the end. Running her muzzle up the ice wall, she felt the cold stinging her muzzle, but the pain was favorable. The cave's roof was lower here, and if she reached her cranium high and extended her muzzle she could feel her whiskers slid over it's icy grip. Doing exactly that, her warm breath fogging the ice like glass. Snapping her neck into her, so famous, arch, she glanced at the ice. Bored again. Just being the little devil she was, she lifted her front right hoof high the landing it hard on the floor, swiping it back some then repeating. Her right side turning parallel with the wall. Swiveling her ears forward before her hoof striked the ground, then swiveling them slightly backwards as the noise rang through the cave. She knew the sound of the wind whistling at the entrance of the cave would muffle it to nothing.

She stopped her antics and stood quietly. The first time the mare had shut up or was completely quiet. She turned her cranium to the left, or to where the entrance of the cave was. Mauja was a white distorted figure. It was dark, and her gold pelt seemed black with the lighting. Not to mention she was were the sun's rays didn't shine into the cave. She stood in the shadows, half heartily wanting Mauja to come. Angora was a creature of only lust. Not much guilt coursed her body, but her mahogany tongue seemed to make other horses overwhelm with guilt. Somehow she knew this one was different. A different vibe had flown from his body.
Ascended Helovian

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
#5

"Bitch."
You are.


He felt his heart harden and close further, but his face remained impassive. Nothing but chill lurked in his pale eyes, and nothing but hard, frozen lines made up the planes of his body. Was it irascibility on her part, or naivety on his, that had landed him in this defensive, half-hurt, half-angry state? He could ponder that another day, as to think about it now just made him feel a bit hopeless. He just wanted to go home, to himself, to a place where he was secure, if not in position then in himself. He was lost and lonely, trapped in the wasteland of his soul, but as he kept his jaws clenched and ears flat he slowly forced the notion away. He was Mauja. He was the Bane of their existence — not some silly boy.

She moved off, a little deeper into the ice-clad cave, and he started forward, gliding a step further into its dark mouth. The sun couldn't penetrate the darkness within, and he saw her only as a dark shadow clinging to the furthest wall. Smack, the sound of hoof striking against rock, and her outline pranced slightly, and was she rubbing herself against the wall? Mauja frowned, staring at her from where he stood. She could hardly be stupid enough to think she could dig her way out through a mountain, could she? Or was she just trying to catch his attention? He discarded that theory, too, as he couldn't fathom why she would insult him one moment and then try to lure him closer the next. He was not about to give in to the curiosity and ask, not about to let himself be tricked into talking. Flicking his tail once he remained stationary, frosted hooves steadily upon the cold, dark floor, and waited for Psyche to arrive and toss Angora to the hounds.

[ short post is short, Psyche is posting atm I think. <3 ]
Mauja Frosthjärta
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here

Psyche the DarkEmpress Posts: 380
Deceased
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 8 (ages in Orangemoon) Buff: ENDURE
RayoDeSoleil
#6
Psyche</style></style>
 


The victor will never be asked if he told the truth.



The ivory fae may have been a new addition to the shade's herd, but her acceptance into the Basin made Arah family. And the Empress did not take well to those who screwed with her family.

There would be those that claimed that the Lady of the Basin knew no family. That she had never had a family in the psychological sense of the word, and that she could not care for others as family. And once, this had been true - but no more. Since her ascension to the throne, the shadow-mare had changed. She thought of her herd, her loyal followers, those that she protected, and she saw the imposing form of her General, the eager silhouettes of her soldiers. She saw d'Artagnan and his poison, tempered by the nurse, Kou. She remembered Crowley and his cruel devotion to her cause, Faelene and her loyalty despite their differences. She thought of every face that passed before her amber eyes each day and she was proud.

She had come to care for them, and this affection did not make her weak.

Oh, what a revelation it had been for her to realize that kindness to those that loved you was not a bad thing. If anything, she found that it made her and hers stronger, more cohesive. It was something that tied them together. It gained her respect, even adoration. Sure, she was a prickly being, and sure, she may not ever be truly loved simply for who she was. She was difficult, to say the least. But she had come to be respected without fear, and that was an accomplishment that she found herself pleased with. And so when the idiotic hornless had made off with one of her own, the jackal had been most displeased. She was unhappy with those charged with the herd's protection, of course, but she was more displeased with herself. She could not have eyes and ears everywhere, of course, but she still felt as if she should. After all, their well being was her responsibility.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the beat of wings. A glance to the sky picked out a white blur against clear blue; upon closer inspection she made out the FrostHeart's companion Irma. Curiously, she watched as the owl circled, dropping lower and lower. A call rang through the air before she wheeled, flying toward the mountains. Curiously, the Empress followed. Irma would not have left Mauja without his approval, and she certainly would not have sought out the Dark Empress for no reason. A gentle lope brought her quickly to the rock edge of the Basin. Outside a dark cavern stood the Ice King himself; she did not call a greeting, as she was sure that he would see her dark form against the grey-brown backdrop.

"Mauja," she greeted him softly as she drew nearer, a slight dip of the head an accent to her greeting. A quick glance into the cave showed her the buckskin pelt of the bareheaded Angore; a cruel grin lit her features. "Oh, darling, you brought me a present!" she exclaimed, not bothering to keep her voice down. "You are simply wonderful!" In the back of her mind, she reached for the cool purple orb of her magic and, concentrating, she drew it out of the recesses of her brain and threw it toward Angora. It would infiltrate her brain, causing an illusion of pain. The shade imagined what it would feel like to drive her horn through that pretty little throat, and for a moment, Angora would feel it, though no blood would truly be drawn.

"Talk talk talk."

Image Credits
[Image: psycheicon.png]

Please feel free to tag me in all replies!
Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.

Angora Posts: 71
Deceased
Mare :: Equine :: 15hh :: Died at 6yo Buff: NOVICE
Vallie
#7
He stood watching her. It was kind of creepy how he watched her every movement, and every words that left her throat. She stared back at him, but softly. She knew she could make him feel guilt once more, but her plans were cut short when a voice rang through the cave. She knew that was whoever had sent the ice horse for her. It had been quiet, until the voice. Needless to say Angora didn't fancy this mare. She was black and dark. Feathers and teeth in her mane. A hint of blood entwined also.

"Oh, darling, you brought me a present! You are simply wonderful!"

The fae ignored her voice, but a pain surged through her neck. A sharp needle entering her jugular as the life sucked out of her form. With a surprised actions, her ears flicked forward, her four seamlessly weak legs opened and quivered. Barley able to keep her weight up as the pain was relentless. The thought of dying made her nearly faint. A lifeless body decomposing on the ground as humus did it's job. Her pale orbs lightened when the whites of her eyes were able to be seen so fluidly. Never had Angora come so close to death. She side stepped away from the wall in a mere two strides. She felt light headed and dizzy. Not many knew, but Angora did not deal with large amounts of shock well. Her vision blurred and dotted.

The only thing she didn't know was that it wasn't real.

The pain left, but she was frozen basically. Just the vision of a horn being raked through her throat and shock were left behind. Sweat beaded down her gold pelt. Her legs continued their relentless shaking. Her nostrils flared. She needed to get out of this cave. She needed to be free. Her nostrils quivered as the fog whipped out of her nostrils. Freedom. The word felt foreign now.

Adrenaline pumped through her veins. In the flick of a dime she turned. With a lunge forward she made a break for it. She knew if she had felt what had just happened she would fall or pass out. Her front hooves landing on the ground as her haunches tucked in and under her. Her slender akhal-teke form kicked in. The borders right there. So close she could feel it. How she wished she had wings and could flutter off. Not even out of the cave, but the temperature dropped. Luck was not on her side today. Even though the white stallion had told her to basically shut up, she didn't. A loud neigh echoed through the mountains, into caves, and over snow. She would be heard.

OOC: I no she's Mauja's, but I dun have muse.
Ascended Helovian

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
#8

She waited. He waited. In the back of his mind he was aware of wind slipping over wings, of the cool morning air against white feathers and the warmth of the sun against her back. Dimly, as if recalling a dream, he saw the black form of Psyche grow larger, her keen eyes trailing her movements until she wheeled away, and the Empress followed obediently. Thermals and wing-beats guided Irma back towards her bonded and his captive, her eyes occasionally falling down, upon the shape of Psyche. Objectively speaking, she was beautiful, but who was she? And why, how, did she differ from the other one..? In the mouth of the cave, Mauja gave his head a small shake, trying to clear it. This was neither the time nor the place to think of that, and his gaze focused again upon Angora. She remained pressed up against the icy wall, though quieter, stiller. He blinked impassively, knowing that Psyche was close now, seeing her through Irma's eyes before the owl spun away again, losing herself in the play of air and the tug of wind. She disappeared in the sky, to hunt, to watch, to wait, and Mauja was left alone with the jackal-heart and their prey.

"Psyche," he responded to her greeting, inclining his head slightly without looking at her. His gaze remained fixed upon the depths of the cave, and the slender shape which resided there. He had not brought her here to lose her, though it would be tempting to let the ungrateful bitch go. At least he had been effective, though denied the release of a fight, and instead he had mired himself in a kind of misery he'd never been drowned in before. The dark mare looked into the cave and gave a loud exclamation of delight, but not a muscle in his body moved as he replied, smoothly: "Indeed, I did." To see Angora bleed and beg for mercy would not move him, but he wanted, desperately, to be alone, with his mind, and at the same time, he didn't want to be alone at all. Sighing ever so softly he gave his head a small shake, rattling the thoughts around and hoping they'd fall out through his ears. Who am I, Irma? She was the only one he could ask in silence, but the only answer he got was the mental equivalent of a wing to the head. Apparently he was supposed to figure it out without help from his owl, and he took the opportunity to grimace while Angora trembled. He had no idea what Psyche was doing to her, but from the look of slight concentration on her face she was the cause for it. Well. Whatever.

He'd been prepared to leave to fetch Crowley, or d'Artagnan, or someone else who wanted to play a little wicked game with their captive when she suddenly lunged, away from the ice wall. In less than a heartbeat every nerve and sense in his body was alert, adrenaline flooding his system as his ears fell flat to his neck, blocking out the sound of her hooves crashing against the uneven cave floor. So this was how it went, huh? She wasn't ready to take his advice, but to make a break for it when cornered, instead of out on the Steppe where she probably could've outrun him? Darkness fell into his mind and cold into his veins, but he made no move to strike her with magic just yet. Her loud neigh echoed out from the cave and into the Basin, and his mind labeled her fool before he fell into motion. Arching his thick neck, the point of his icy horn facing forward, Mauja tucked his haunches under him and pushed off in complete silence. The aim was to tackle her foolish charge head-on, and run the point of his horn into her body where the neck met the shoulder on the left side. If she was stupid enough to try and run for freedom, he'd bleed her until she was too weak to stand. She would not get out of this cave on his watch, not with two unicorns blocking the entrance. She was theirs, and deep in his soul he felt the monster stir again.
Mauja Frosthjärta
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here

Psyche the DarkEmpress Posts: 380
Deceased
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 8 (ages in Orangemoon) Buff: ENDURE
RayoDeSoleil
#9
Psyche</style></style>
 


The victor will never be asked if he told the truth.



[OOC | -coughcough- I made a mistake with her magic last post. I got overexcited. All she can do right now is instill fear/paranoia - the pain thing is an upgrade that I don't have yet ;_; Just wanted to apologize for that mistake on my part.]

The smell of Angora's fear fueled the shadow-mare's bloodlust. She wanted nothing more than to leap forward, to drive her gnarled horn into the equine over and over, to watch her crimson life flow out of her bodice, over the ground. How satisfying it would be to teach them all just how weak they were in comparison to the Dark Empress and her kin! How beautiful her blood would look in a muddy design upon the ground! But no, she would resist; the mare was nothing short of a play toy, and the jackal would have her fun. Perhaps, if they were lucky, she would allow the rest of the Plague a turn with the golden girl; Crowley, in particular, had a nasty streak that would serve quite well with the seductress. Or perhaps the fae would remain a secret between she and the FrostHeart, a secret like that of Delinne's arrival.

Mauja was quiet, leaving her alone to concentrate; just as quickly as she had sent the emotions toward the prisoner, she halted, a cold smile marking the end of her magic - for the time being, anyway. She had expected the trembling, expected the fear; what she had not expected was for Angora to fight back. But fight back she did with a frantic, panicking, eye-rolling lunge that left the jackal chuckling. The Ice King responded, meeting the mare with an attempted jab to the shoulder; a half-second later, the shade matched his movement, aiming instead for her right side. While Mauja's horn could do a good deal of damaged, hers was gnarled, twisted, and hosted several twists and turns and sharp edges that to rip an altogether more frightening wound into her skin.

She twisted her head up and away, hoping to have torn through flesh, then turned to block the opening. Her cranium remained twisted toward the mare, making her ensuing hiss echo through the recesses of the cave. "You fool," she said, applying her magic to drive fear into the mare's heart. The whispers seemed to come from every corner of the darkness, and though the shadow-mare knew it to be only the repetition of her own vocals, they would sound much like various demons to the mare. They're out to get you, the Lady thought, twisting her magic to suit this new paranoia. Nowhere to run... Aloud, she said, "You think that you can simply waltz into our home and take what is ours. You. Were. Wrong."

"Talk talk talk."

Image Credits
[Image: psycheicon.png]

Please feel free to tag me in all replies!
Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.

Angora Posts: 71
Deceased
Mare :: Equine :: 15hh :: Died at 6yo Buff: NOVICE
Vallie
#10
The cold around her numbed the pain she would feel in a moment.

She was being tortured. Every moment spent away from her freedom was torturous, but being away from the things she wanted was worse. Not only was everything a blur, but they were attacking. As she had sprinted off, the un-named stallion whipped his head around, but dodged both attacks completely by coiling away from him. She hadn't seen Psyche's horn coming for her, and couldn't doge it. Her horn met the Angora's skin's resistant as a huge line of blood fashioned itself onto her side. Her gnarled horns raked against her skin. An easy foot of a deep gash across her flank. Severe pain crowding her bode. Her lithe form didn't stop moving. She lunged out of the front of the cave, only to hear the mare's voice and her magic gripping on her bode. Why couldn't they let her just.. go?

This just wouldn't do.

Angora quickly loped in the snow, but Psyche's magic gripped her to quickly. Thin legs buckled as the golden girl fell. Her smooth bloody body fell into the snow and sunk five inches. Why even try at this point? Her thoughts exactly. She shut her eyes and lowered her head. Sighing heavily, she froze solid. Not one inch of her body moving. Her ears smacked flat against her neck. The snow around her was dyed red. She got ready to let magic flow away from her body, but held it inside for now. She may not use it as she now hated both of them and would hate for them to become lovey dovey with her. Now which way would she choose?

ooc: No muse.. really..
Ascended Helovian

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
#11

Like a shadow, a whisper, a wind of darkness, Psyche lunged in, their pair of them driving for the lifeblood of the golden girl, punishment for her transgressions — but lithe and agile, she slipped from his grasp, meeting instead the same sticky end at the point of Psyche's gnarled horn. Droplets of red cascaded out of her body, like a golden dress ripped to reveal what lay beneath, but he had a hard time seeing it as the early sunlight glistened upon the lady's horn. Angora somehow stumbled past, falling to her knees in the snow, and for a moment Mauja was inclined to just stand there and watch her crawl for freedom. Pitiful, truly. As Mauja prowled closer, he body grew still, and he felt contempt, disgust, overpower the insane need to hunt for her blood. "Why did you take Arah?" he demanded in winter's voice as he stood beside her downed form, by her shoulder, peering down at her with blazing blue eyes. He had no desire to be kicked by her, and stood by her back.

He felt detached, disconnected, as if he was not truly there despite the fact that it was his white body standing there, his voice speaking words; was this who he was, the monster beneath the ice, the spirit lurking behind facades of marble and smiles? Slow, glacial, he raised one front hoof and sought to place it upon the still plane of her shoulder, and should she not move he would lean upon it, slowly force his weight upon her before placing the other frosted foot beside its kin. Leaning over her all the same he looked down upon her face, her slicked ears, set jaw; what a proud, feisty fool.

"Hundkvikindi." The word slid easily off his tongue, familiar to him, but not to the world; this was not Mauja the Snow-warm, the soft stallion who had the pale winter sun within his soul — this was Mauja the Beast, a creature made of darkness, with liquid ice for blood. He knew both sides so well, but never knew which one lurked at the utmost center of his soul, and his lips peeled back in a horse's snarl. How would it feel, to be a wolf, and hunt with fangs? To sink sharp points into the flesh of his enemies, and drink their blood instead of merely break their bones? To rip, to tear, instead of crush? Much like something behemoth, something slow but dangerous, he raised his head to peer at the shadow-lady, blinking his eyes slowly. "Should we call others?"

For in all honesty, I wish to run away.
Mauja Frosthjärta
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here


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