| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 15 hands :: 8 years old |
| Phantom |
07-16-2012, 11:37 PM
(This post was last modified: 07-17-2012, 12:06 PM by Cassiopeia.)
image by Joel Olives @ flickr.com</style>
Charcoal hooves sunk ceremoniously into the ashen slush of snow that encompassed the roan dame, stepping lightly and as usual, with unintended elegance and beauty of movement. Her leonine tail was hoisted somewhat more drastically into the air, though still slackened just enough that the silken tendrils lightly caressed the surface of the half-thawed frost. This land provided virtually the only unabated alleviation from the oppressing heat of the sun and Cassiopeia was immensely thankful it existed.
Not far behind the maiden pranced the cherubic young Cirrus, prancing with characteristic lightheartedness and innocence. She followed her mother halfheartedly, running her diminutive muzzle along the liquified alabaster substance, the frigidness nipping harshly at her nostrils. She stopped in her tracks, lifting her petite head abruptly and frantically abraded her small dial of a muzzle along her lanky foreleg in an attempt to rid the abrasive ice crystals from the sensitive flesh. Cassiopeia noticed the sudden void of hoof falls and the pulping sound which followed, arching her neck around to check on the vernal damsel.
An affectionate giggle resonated through her cavernous chest as Cirrus shook her head in discomfort. She turned to aid her in ridding the frost, but as soon as she did the young filly was already strutting forward, seemingly completely unfazed. Cassiopeia watched with adoration as she moved past her, then fondly nudged her lanky haunches, walking behind her now. She would miss these days once her baby girl was grown and old enough to have fillies of her own to look after, and so she cherished every moment she could of her youthfulness. She hoped to set the best example for her as she could.
Cassiopeia</style>
Let it break upon you, like a wave on the sand. </style>
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| Helovian Ancient |
| Stallion :: Equine :: :: |
| |
The filly begins to move forward, prancing away from her mother playfully, right in the direction of a rare item. Amidst the snow of the Frostbreath Steppe is an amulet, dropped by its previous owner unknowingly many years before. In the heat of the current summer, enough layers of snow have melted to reveal its shining bronze cage, possessing a single emerald within. A delicate chain of bronze also rests above the snow, glinting in the sunlight.
| Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6 |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.1 :: 8 HP: 69 | Buff: SWIFT |
| Whit |
07-20-2012, 06:10 AM
(This post was last modified: 07-26-2012, 12:54 AM by Cirrus.)
Cirrus
A bottle-brush tail thumps against the plump thighs of the maiden, the length of her dock longer than that of a regular equine, the belle having inherited the leonine shape from her mother. It would grow, just as the rest of her would. Indigo blue hairs trickled their way down the length of it, as spiky hairs of matching hue stood up on her curled nape.
The fae enjoyed these lands, having travelled here before – only without her parents. Of course, upon seeing them again, she promptly tells them all about her adventures, with pride and complete disregard for their apparent disapproval. Nothing bad had happened to her yet, still she knew not what this ‘danger’ was – though her parents seemed to get into enough of it themselves.
Wings were growing larger, able to hold her weight upon the earth whenever she chose to first gain enough speed by the galloping motion of her hooves, and then stretch them out to glide. There were times when she exercised them fast enough that she felt herself lift off the ground from a standstill, but she was too obsessed with flight just yet – the ground held too many interesting things!
The glint of bronze against powdery white snow caught her eye, as she pranced forward from her mother’s caress, and spied what she first assumed to be a rare patch of grass. But the emerald was not grass, but a gem! With her nose low to the ground, investigating the item, she lifted her tiara excitedly, calling to her mother;
“It’s like yours!” A broad smile tugged at her lips, her entire bodice quivered with excitement, as she bent low and purposefully nudged the object, wondering at its secrets.
|
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:
| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 15 hands :: 8 years old |
| Phantom |
07-20-2012, 11:22 AM
(This post was last modified: 07-20-2012, 11:52 PM by Cassiopeia.)
image by Joel Olives @ flickr.com</style>
She had been watchfully observing the antics of the indigo cherub from a reasonable distance the whole time, simply passing off her exuberance in investigating what appeared to be a foreign object entombed in the snow as vernal curiosity: hardly anything to find too significant. Her slender face was hoisted high into the air as the radiant belle proclaimed her discovery in a shrill yet sweet feebleness of voice.
The cobalt dame assumed a lento trot, smoother with each stride flowing fluently into the next, more so than a full fledged gait. No time at all had elapsed before she was beside the cerulean maiden, she too examining the coruscant structure of the precious jewel mantled with a thin, dilute encasement of frost. "Someone must've dropped it." She mused aloud, her dark face descending to the faintly fulgid gem. The thawing warmth of her breath momentarily showering it in a tepid heat as her fussain kissers separated, ivory teeth gently reaching out to grasp its frigid, emerald contours.
She clutched it firmly between her livid dentition, raising it just enough over the filly's head that the wide loop of the cold, iron chain hanging flimsily beneath it fell with ease around her petite profile. She had hoped Cirrus would protrude her diminutive muzzle through the small opening as she did so. Slowly, she lowered it enough that it wouldn't fall with great swiftness. Instead, as she parted her teeth, the gem swung slowly for a few moments before settling between the modest crease of the filly's bosom.
It glowed as if its magic was awakening with its new found beholder, then slowly dimmed down. "It's yours now, Cirrus." She swanned, a smile spread across her lips.
Cassiopeia</style>
Let it break upon you, like a wave on the sand. </style>
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Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
| Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER |
|
Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize
& Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage
Neo |
|
Mauja the FrostHeart
ice cold man watches earth die, eternal winter takes its reign
( It said open as well, so I hope you don't mind the company! ^^ )
He'd been drifting around up north for a while, seeking to cool off up here where the sun didn't shine so hotly and the ground still was covered in something moderately pale. It was all slush, though, at least the topmost layers, churned to a mess by hooves, paws, winds and thaw. In a way, it was a desolate place, destroyed by the reckless rampage of gods, a mere shadow of its former cold-edged crystal beauty. Still, it was cooler, softer, and the Edge King felt more at ease here than in his own charred, dry forest. Wind-whipped and leafless his forest stood on its cliff, smelling of brine, but the nights were warm and the days unbearable. It offered little shade, and too much misery. Still - he was the sovereign, and he had to return before too long. The isthmus loomed like a shadow across his heart and mind, and it was with longing in his soul that he trudged across the half-melted steppe, breath pooling into the air like a smoke cloud, dissipating somewhere overhead. Sunlight sparkled in the frost of his horn, which for once wasn't melting in it. For a moment he felt like stopping and purring like a content cat, but - he was a horse, not a cat.
He'd actually given in and begun to make his way south, to the isthmus, when he spied two shapes in the distance. They were more or less directly in his path, and from where he was walking, it was hard to tell whether they had wings or horns or not; he only saw that they were relatively dark in color, and the wind didn't blow in his favor. Still, Mauja was a curious creature, and despite his racism, found it interesting to have the occasional interaction with the hornless. Some had valuable information, some he could actually appreciate, but somewhere deep in his heart, he was always detached, disconnected; the thought of one day turning upon them (Azzuen, Indy, Onni) did not bother him, did not fill him with regret. That was just the way of things.
And so the FrostHeart picked up his hooves and set off at an elegant high-kneed trot, feather-adorned tail streaming behind him like a plume of snow.
When he came closer, he saw that they were quite similar, but very different in size; they shared color, but one was a foal not yet half-grown, the other presumably its mother. Both were blue roan, both had wings, and leonine tails - that mystified him, and with curiosity sparkling along the rims of his blue eyes he moved even closer. Did she have unicorn in her blood? Vile. Or did the pegasus of her homeland share a distinctively horned trait? He whickered, calling out a greeting; the mare was busy sliding something over the filly's neck, but he couldn't see what yet. His own daughter, Snö, had just come home, and seeing this mother and daughter pair struck something in him, resonated with something in his heart. Psyche... Smoky breath streamed from his nostrils, and when he was a mere twenty yards away did he slow to a walk, not wanting to barge in on them like some uncivilized brute. He did possess a bit more grace and tact than Korra.
For a moment he was struck by the notion that his approach was odd, but the next he tossed it out the window; you never learned things if you never interacted with strangers. Giving them both a cheerful smile, only warmth sliding around in his cold-blue eyes, he wound to a halt - perching politely at the outskirts of their circle. From here, he saw the cold chain around the filly's neck, and the bronze framework holding an emerald green stone. He recognized it as an amulet, and curiously enough the adult mare had one too, but it was blue. He took it in in the blink of an eye. "Ah, greetings ladies! What brings you out here, on such a nice day?" He was all soft snow and smooth curves; nothing showed of the cold, sharp ice that lay just beneath.
 |
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here
| Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6 |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.1 :: 8 HP: 69 | Buff: SWIFT |
| Whit |
Cirrus
Barely able to stand upon one single spot, the little flicka's weight shifted from foot to foot, her tiara turned down, intently staring at the emerald held within the bronze metal’s grasp. She almost looks dismayed at her mother’s words, suggesting that another might own the beautiful jewel, but the sadness is short-lived, for she is reassured swiftly after the initial speech that it might become her own.
An amulet! The filly barely understood the concept of amulets, but was thrilled nonetheless by being fortunate enough to be bestowed with one. Obediently she held her little chiselled façade still for her mother to loop it over her stout, curved neck, her little tufty tail swinging back and forth with glee all the while. It thumped into place, the chain holding it perfectly between her pectoral muscles, the vividly green jewel proudly on display upon her chest.
A broad smile was upon her maw, though happiness was commonly found upon her, it glowed with renewed vigour now, excitement causing her to spread her wings, the sky above them staining her pelt that vibrant, sky blue hue – it was like her mother’s normal coat, only with that hint of sunlight sometimes causing it to vary at odd intervals along her barrel. Soon enough the dusk would bring a colourful display of pinks and oranges to her downy, foal pelt.
A being born of snow seemed to rise out of the surroundings then, at least, that’s what it seemed like to the unobservant little Cirrus. She hadn’t yet practiced what her father always did – keeping an eye upon her surrounds so that she might never be surprised – and so the appearance of the dotted unicorn disrupted her happy façade, replacing it with open curiosity and a thirst to know more about him. He moved with a natural cadence amongst this snowy landscape, where she and her mother had to tread carefully, lest their hooves, which were better designed for running across clouds, slip and they end up with their carcasses upon the loam.
“Our feet bring us here because I can’t fly really high across the whole world yet!” Cirrus does not wait for her mother to reply to the stallion, words spilling out of her mouth at him in an all-knowing sort of tone. Could he not see that they were standing upon their feet, feet which just like his own, had walked them across the lands? A small snort tumbled from her nose, she found his question to be quite silly the more she considered it.
Maybe because he looked like a creature of winter he was immune to the heat? Maybe he lived here all the time? Cirrus had been here before, and met a lovely bunch of friends, all different shapes and species – if anything, she would have thought that Merakerr owned these lands. “It’s too hot at home, and besides, my amulet was here waiting to be found, and also, I am not a lady!” A jumble of words and thoughts seemed to want to burst forth from her mouth all at once, but eventually she was silent again, a puzzled look being thrown at her mother and this horned steed whom she considered to be very, very silly.
|
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:
| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 15 hands :: 8 years old |
| Phantom |
07-26-2012, 06:02 AM
(This post was last modified: 07-26-2012, 06:06 AM by Cassiopeia.)
image by Joel Olives @ flickr.com</style>
Her ears twitched with the auditory sensation of another drawing near, causing her to turn abruptly and investigate the noise - slender face hoisted high into the air and lobed ears erect atop her poll. He was familiar, his sickly scent not unlike the unicorns of the World's Edge. Immediately the roan damsel harmonized with the fact that he was the king of that peculiar place, the mysterious land of fog and unicorns.
She recalled him coming to the Throat once before despite never greeting him herself. Kri had acquired a contiguous disdain for the stallion, but that was not unlike her intrepid, chauvinist leader. She often opted for the female kind, and never had she seen her take a liking to a male so quickly as she had with Azzuen. "Greetings, King of the Edge." She swanned, a smile spread across her lips. Before she could solvent the indocile filly below her, the sky-hued belle had pranced off toward the unicorn, announcing exuberantly what she believed was their reason for being here. Cassiopeia couldn't help but be amused by her enthusiasm. "These lands provide a compelling reprieve from the heat."
She walked over toward Cirrus, narrow head arced over the brusque stature of her compact neck. She was sated with mirth at the filly's words. "If you are not a lady, what do call yourself then, hm? Surely you are not a colt." She uttered teasingly toward the volant filly before peering toward Mauja once again, her sylphlike figure readjusted. "I am Cassiopeia of the Dragon's Throat, and this is my daughter, Cirrus. I believe you know her father, Azzuen. He is the General of our home." She was suspicious of Mauja, and the slightest figment of caution leaked forth through her demeanor. She wasn't quick to trust a king whose ranks harbored only those of his own blood. Surely he was a racist.
Cassiopeia</style>
Let it break upon you, like a wave on the sand. </style>
|
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 |
Chaos descended, after a fashion.
It was no surprise, really, because when energetic foals were involved, chaos was a rather common occurrence. After his greeting, he received two interesting statements: the filly's exclamation about hooves and flying, delivered in the self-centered, all-knowing way of children. In an adult, it would've been utterly annoying, but as it was wont with foals, it was just endearing. Most grew out of it, and those who didn't faced lonesome lives. The other statement was the mare's greeting. That she pegged his home wasn't at all strange. Wherever he went, Mauja brought the characteristic scent of brine and the Edge's trees with him, and as of late, the one left in the aftermath of fire - ash. The lack of rain and proper winds had kept it around, swirling like a marbled carpet, the Sun's mockery of their gone fog. Otherwise it would've been blown clean and washed away by now, but it clung to his world like a curse, a constant reminder of their unfortunate. What made her greeting interesting wasn't his home, but how easily she had guessed his rank; he was not one to flaunt it, seldom gave his title unless prompted or on official business. He didn't think he carried himself with more regality than any other horse born of noble blood. Unless his own nose betrayed her she belonged in the Dragon's Throat, but he hadn't met her before. He'd visited twice, and wasn't too fond of Kri, and unless she was secretly in love with him and just pretending to hate him, Kri wasn't too fond of him either. Because the former was such a minimal possibility, the only logical conclusion was that the latter was the truth. It wouldn't be strange if she'd informed her herd that a white Edge unicorn with black spots was the herd's ill-liked King. Woe.
He chuckled, a warm sound, open gaze falling on the filly and the interesting play of light across her coat. It didn't look entirely real... but he had no real time to ponder it at that moment. "Indeed the world is hot," he agreed, leveling her gaze at the child's wings. Was it strange that he enjoyed her child-like scolding, the way she'd taken his question literally? What was strange, however, was the mention of Azzuen, and his rank. General. It looks like both of us were more than we let on, unless you've been promoted since. He was a worthy stallion, a formidable foe. Mauja would do well not to underestimate the Throat. He could hear the note of caution in Cassiopeia's voice - it was wise of her, to not trust him so easily, but he had no intention to be rude to them at this moment. And so, he didn't comment on it. As long as she didn't turn as hostile as Kri...
"Does lady indicate old age?" he asked of Cassiopeia in an amused voice. "Or simply good manners and a gentle nature? If so, perhaps I should've called you girl, little Cirrus." And now he'd probably get nose-slapped for calling her little. Dealing with Snö was a hassle, not because she was annoying, but because he didn't really speak on the same frequency as children. He'd been denied a period of learning, had simply been tossed into her company without a single clue of how to talk to her, how to behave, to phrase his words - he loved her, with all of his strange heart, but sometimes he just had no bloody idea of how to act around her. His eyes flickered to the mother again, a kind, warm little smile on his face, and in his eyes. "I am Mauja. And you're right, I have met Azzuen. He seems a good sort. You're a lucky lady, Cassiopeia," he said with warmth, motioning with his head towards the girl. He didn't want to talk over her head and be all oh what a pretty child you have!, but hoped she'd understand that the gesture meant to include Cirrus in the "lucky" package. And back to Cirrus... "And that's a fine amulet you have!" He guessed he'd go cross-eyed before he'd sorted out how to act in this situation, attention going back and forth...
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angels, they fell first, but I'm still here
| Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6 |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.1 :: 8 HP: 69 | Buff: SWIFT |
| Whit |
Cirrus
The flicka tilts her head to listen to her mother speak to the icy stallion, calling him a “King”, which caused the young filly to twitch her eye brows as she puzzled over the word. Almost every time her father returned from one of his patrol shifts, he divulged any and everything that might have happened to him, probably adding some colour and creative flair for the sake of his daughter to appreciate it. Though the filly didn’t always remember what he spoke of, she loved the stories, mostly because they came from him. His duties gave him less time to spend with her, but that he was so good a father to her in the times he was able to be, made up for it. Cirrus was growing up to think that she would be much like him; strong, diligent, passionate, and it wasn’t hard to see these traits already coming out in her. At least, when she was being distracted by shiny things.
“Spots?” She had asked him. “He really had spots?” “Yes,” her father had replied, an amused smile on his visage. “Good thing I didn’t touch him, never know if they are contagious.” The stallion had joked for the sake of his daughter, before evidently informing Cassiopeia of the true identity of the spotted steed, Mauja.
As Cirrus looked over this stallion, a concentrated, critical frown wrinkling her brows as she boldly took a step closer to him, nose outstretched to better allow her electrifying gaze to look more closely at these spots. She had seen a wingless one before, as well as one who carried a horn upon their crown, but not one who had spots. The brazen little vixen sorely wanted to touch one of them, to see if maybe the spots would move or rub off onto her if she touched them – but then, she also did not want to be spotted should they transfer onto her!
Momentarily distracted by the question her mother posed at her, without a second thought the young belle spouted back at her, “I am a Pegasus, duhh.” Swivelling her sights to Mauja now, as he suggested to call her not only girl, but little Cirrus too. Twisting her miniature nose up in a rather distasteful fashion she flared her wings abruptly again, being somewhat (though not overly) mindful to try and not knock her mother over, but otherwise hoping to take up as much space as she could with them. She was hoping to crowd the stallion a little bit, make him uncomfortable – make it clear that she was anything but a little girl.
“You’re almost right, I am Cirrus, and I am a Pegasus, but nothing else!” The filly didn’t want to be defined by any other labels they might try to throw at her. The stallion mentioned her father, which reminded Cirrus about the curious spots upon his hide. Wings forgotten, they dropped slightly as she stepped even closer to him, wanting to reach out and touch one, but secretly afraid to… After a tense moment she closed her eyes, motioned to bump her velvet maw against him before turning on her tail, shaking her head and trotting a small circle behind her mother.
“Get it off, get it off! I don’t want to be spotty!”
|
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:
| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 15 hands :: 8 years old |
| Phantom |
08-04-2012, 07:07 PM
(This post was last modified: 08-28-2012, 09:05 PM by Cassiopeia.)
image by Joel Olives @ flickr.com</style>
Cassiopeia was warmed by the king's ability to contend with her daughter's youthful shenanigans. Perhaps he had foals of his own, she resolved, or maybe he simply had a soft spot for those with the exuberant tonic that was characteristic of youth.
She supposed even a racist could have certain fragility toward those of fewer years, even if the contender was of a different race. She also found herself speculative if he truly was a bigot, or if he just preferred the company of his own species. The latter was true for herself, and she fleetingly felt a bit hypocritical. She had no misgivings toward the other species - quite the contrary, actually. She simply enjoyed the institution involved in being united with those of your own kind. Still, it would be devoid of good sense to abolish such suspicions. She didn't give it much thought, however. It could wait.
With the ivory stallion's addressing of Cirrus as a little girl, Cassiopeia immediately flicked an ear toward the sky-hued flicka. She knew all too well her disdain for being dubbed as such, despite the suitability such an adjective occupied - at least in physical stature. She was certainly bigger in her indocile, independent nature than her mere countenance might imply. She understood her vernal qualms, however. Who didn't go through such a stage in their life when they couldn't wait to be grown and 'big' like those around them? The roan dame certainly went through such a stage. She too had yearned for independence, to be grown and listened to. As soon as such a prospect become reality, she found herself desiring the careless abandon of youth.
She was surprised by the belle's next gesture, hoisting her head out of the way of her already imposing wings - at least they were such compared to other pegasi her age. Cassiopeia was rarely displeased by the filly's behavior, but in the presence of this imperious stallion she couldn't help but feel a vague apologetic contrivance seize her features as she watched the spotted unicorn. "That's enough, Cirrus." She said gently, velvety nostrils pressing against her cerulean hide in an attempt to solvent her.
She then turned her attention once again to the horned stallion, smiling with the mention of her lover. Soon after Cirrus seemed entranced by something upon Mauja's hide. The roan mare observed her curiously as she craned her neck forward, her diminutive dial of a muzzle outstretched as if seeking to touch his livid flesh. Humorously curious as to the antics of her daughter, she furrowed a brow in affectionate scrutiny, a crooked smile evinced upon her lips. Just as she was about to chastise her for not respecting his personal space, Cirrus seemed to go into a fit of rebellion. Cassiopeia couldn't help but giggle as she exclaimed something about not wanting spots, as if such markings were contagious. She wondered how Mauja would react to her contingency.
She pivoted toward her, touching her maw against the belle's petite shoulder, trying to assure her that her coat would not soon be speckled with any such flecks. "Calm down, little cloud." She only used the fond, motherly moniker when trying to sedate the somewhat sovereign fille. "You don't have spots, I promise." She managed to veil the majority of her harmless amusement, though some amount still leaked through her lulling tone of voice. Mauja might be able to detect it, though she doubted Cirrus would. The last thing she wanted to do was give her a reason to feel patronized.
Cassiopeia</style>
Let it break upon you, like a wave on the sand. </style>
|
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 |
|
Pegasus. So that was the missing piece in the puzzle, the label which the filly wanted to wear around her neck with unhidden pride. Not that she needed a nameplate; her wings flared out wide, displaying the blue of the sky in a fascinating play of colors. For the show, Mauja tossed his head up, though her feathers were nowhere near his pale face. Why, she was quite the feisty little thing! The lady mother herself seemed quite the placid and gentle soul, so either it was a rogue gene, or Azzuen himself was quite mischievous and bouncy. A fond smile played on the Ice King's face, mirrored in his eyes. Cassiopeia, however, seemed flustered by her child's rather rude behavior. "Apologies. I stand corrected," he said with amusement lacing his voice, and as Cirrus seemed entranced by something on his own appearance, he winked at the mother, hoping to ease her own mind. Mauja did not mind the filly, even if she was quite feisty. Hopefully age would temper her tongue, but for now, she was allowed to be like this to him. But one day... Who knew? The jugular vein lay too deep in her neck to reveal its pulse to the mere eye, but he knew it was there, protected by layers of warm flesh.
Mauja tilted his head down a little, peering at the young sky-colored girl with open curiosity. She seemed to be staring at the black spotting he carried upon his snowy frame, and a lopsided grin split his maw. Well, he'd not seen many else like himself running around Helovia, so it was no strange thing if she'd never seen anything like him previously. For a moment the scene was like that, three curious individuals locked in a play of stares, but then Cirrus broke the spell. Her small, soft muzzle bumped against the flat of his shoulder, and as quickly as she'd closed the short distance she was gone, running in behind her mother to the sound of Mauja's deep, soft laugh. “Get it off, get it off! I don’t want to be spotty!” "Noooo," he exclaimed dramatically in mock horror, even as Cassiopeia was trying to reassure Cirrus that she hadn't acquired the spots. "Don'tstealmyspots!" He had a feeling Cirrus was too "rough" (and grown) a girl to think him anything but silly, but he did it more for himself than for her - something in foals just brought out the carefree side of him, enabling him to relax and just enjoy life. With a wide-eyed look he proceeded to check himself all over, mumbling a count under his breath.
Finally, he turned to the Pegasus pair, a look of relief on his face. "Oh, Cirrus, you should be safe. I seem to have all my spots still." And he exhaled a deep sigh of relief. How would he look if he was all white, eh? Psyche used to call me 'Spots'... That'd be hard if he had no spots, but it did bring a pang of unexpected heartache. At least Snö had come back to him - that was something good. He forced the thoughts of her aside, schooling his face to keeping the same relieved, joyful mask, though something in his eyes seemed to have dimmed slightly. Lucky Azzuen to still have his woman by his side.
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angels, they fell first, but I'm still here
| Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6 |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.1 :: 8 HP: 69 | Buff: SWIFT |
| Whit |
Cirrus
Any admonitions laid upon the filly by her mother were not heard, such was the arrogance and confidence that the flicka hosted within her, remnants of a granddam from her father's line - would she grow out of it? If she were to take after the notorious FireSlayer, most likely not. If she were to take after the FireSlayer in more ways than her arrogance, most of Helovia would know her name almost as soon as they passed the Threshold. As it was, the filly was a young, rambunctious child for the moment, so such behavioural quirks could be overlooked, swept aside, forgiven with ease. Azzuen doted upon her, perhaps more than he should have, and he supported her attitude, seeing the fire within her that spoke of his mother, of the FireSlayer - the General had no doubt that his daughter would grow to be mighty and great, he did not want to restrict such growth no matter what.
Distracted that she was, it took several moments for the filly to hear what the others were saying, and moments more for her to comprehend. Shaking her head about, sneezing and snorting, she tried and tried again to rid her coat of the spot that she was sure was there. At the stallion's words she became more panicked, too caught up in the moment to even entertain the idea that he might be jesting with her. Soothing melodies came from her mother then, the nickname bestowed from her mother's lips distracting her movements, the icy blue gaze tilting to view her mother's own beautiful eyes, small ears pricked forward. Sides heaved with the effort, her breath could be seen as it was pushed from her nostrils, and she turned her attention swiftly to Mauja, noting with some relief that he did indeed, still have his spots. A huge grin coursed her mouth as he looked over himself, and reassured her again that the spots were there to stay, harmonious laughter erupting from the belle - she was a little bit hyperactive, the adrenalin from her antics causing a euphoric, restless mood to settle over her.
"They suit you better, I think!" She said happily, trotting up to him again, bumping her maw upon his shoulder, much more boldly and confidently this time. Still, she retracted it just as quick, and her eyes may have crossed over as they tried to see whether a spot had transferred to her nose once again, before quickly reassessing that the speckled markings were still upon the steed. A nod was given, her experimenting complete, she deemed Mauja OK to be around, for now. "Dad was wrong Mum," she informed her mother, making notes also to inform her father, "his spots aren't conta, contagee, contagious at all!" It wasn't often that her youthful tongue struggled over words anymore, but the larger, slightly more complex word did trip her up for a moment. "I suppose you can hang around. But make sure you stay away from others if you think your spots will ever rub off." Seriously, Cirrus addressed Mauja again, the laughter from before gone from her eyes, a naïve 'wisdom' upon the child's façade.
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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:
| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 15 hands :: 8 years old |
| Phantom |
08-28-2012, 09:35 PM
(This post was last modified: 08-28-2012, 09:35 PM by Cassiopeia.)
image by Joel Olives @ flickr.com</style>
This icy brute insisted on surprising her yet again. She hadn't expected him to play along so hearteningly, though why she had assumed as such she was not entirely certain. Perhaps it was the subtle voice of reason lingering through the recesses of her mind, whispering prospects of the demoralizing truth to his playful motives. He might simply be feigning the amiableness and acceptance that radiated from his countenance, when below the many thick layers of flesh and hide there might lie an icy interior; a layer of frigidness and hostility which he concealed with deceitful intent.
She had always been one to acknowledge her suspicions, for after almost a lifetime of reading into the future, witnessing the agendas of many unrighteous individuals unfurl before her eyes before they even crossed the mind of the executor, she had developed an apt ability to acutely sense the aura of another. This kept her on edge she supposed, for normally she might not be so stifling toward her daughter's antics. If it was foolish of her to deny such intuitions, she needn't harp upon it, now. He was being kind and hospitable toward them both. Not an ounce of enmity leaked through his exterior and she doubted he would be so rash as to attack them at that moment, anyway. She needed to stop worrying so much. It had begun to stifle her judgement, she thought. If only she knew...
Such mentations rushed through her psyche at a swift pace, like one of those thoughts that grip you from the present moment, swirling incoherently behind a misty veil of focus and yet you are still able to process your surroundings. It was elapsed in a matter of moments; a mere, fleeting instant. Dad was wrong, Mum! She laughed, a light, airy trill of mirth mumbled in reception to her struggle to pronounce the word 'contagious.' "Is that so? Whew, what a relief!" She exclaimed in an attempt to play along.
She looked toward the Frost Heart as Cirrus imparted upon him her own douse of 'wisdom,' returning the wink he had previously shot in her direction. Was she warming up to the icy stallion? Possibly, but she didn't quite trust him, yet, at least not abundantly. Perhaps that mistrust would pay off in the long run.
Cassiopeia</style>
Let it break upon you, like a wave on the sand. </style>
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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 |
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Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize
& Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage
Neo |
I've been having a really hard time finding muse for this thread, so I'll be pulling out of it. :/ I'm sorry. <3
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The tension seemed to be bleeding out, disappearing in the wind. His spots were not contagious, and he was just moderately silly, and Cassiopeia wasn't about to behead him. But, he'd been in the process of heading back when he stumbled upon them, and pleasant as it was to fool around with someone else's kid, he had duty to attend. Cirrus announced that he looked better in spots and he laughed, teasingly trying to nip her mane when she butted her petite muzzle against his shoulder again. "I'd feel naked without them," he told her, grinning wryly. And then Azzuen came up as a subject again, and he listened. Had he said the spots were contagious? Mauja gave a half-smothered snort of amusement, feeling a bit sad that his restless soul pulled him back towards home just as they were warming up to him. Much as he'd like to say he'd come and visit just to spite Kri, he didn't want to push his luck with the feisty mare. He had no desire to lose his home just because he was provocative by nature.
Cirrus was focusing on him again, very serious now, and he schooled his own face into a similar mask. Looking quite the statue he peered back at her, solemn, and nodded vigorously when she imparted her wisdom upon him. In a grave voice he replied, "Of course, Cirrus. I'd never dream of intentionally rubbing my spots off on someone else,". But to be honest, it'd be quite fun if he could. Another time, another place, and he would've dreamily imagined Psyche's face when his spots rubbed off...but he wasn't sure there was a future for them anymore. He blinked the vision away, looking at the sky - dramatically, almost. "Oh, look at the sun! I've been gone for far too long, I really must get back to my herd. It was a pleasure meeting you, Cassiopeia and Cirrus. Make sure to keep checking that no spots transferred! Maybe there's an incubation period before they show up."
And then he was drifting off, heading south, back home - feeling both lighter and heavier at the same time.
[ Mauja out. <3 ]
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angels, they fell first, but I'm still here
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Another dream today | amulet, cirrus, open
