01-23-2019, 02:44 PM
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<center><div class="ilmacontain"><div class="ilma"><i>Ilma</i></div><div class="ilmagrad"></div><div class="ilmaquote">And there's a lesson waiting to be learned<br>the firestarters always get the burns<br>and the good guys never get the girl</div><div style="padding-left:10px;padding-right:10px;"><p class="ilmamess">
Naia’s voice still echoes between ice walls, and Ilma lingers with the younger participant. The white, cremello and blue colt looks up to her to make a move, but she doesn’t, not for a while. There has to be something like a clue around here... anything, really...
Her face scrutinizes and she observes the walls, the floor, the ceiling. She would have liked to talk to the other older horse, he seemed to be an observant one, but he’s off with the dark varnish-gold-roan mare. It falls back to her to think, even though the look on Pteron’s face might grow less and less adoring and more and more impatient in the meantime. At least his notion to be really, really quiet helps: she has room to think and doesn’t need to worry about the sharp icicles falling down due to sound vibrations. She looks from the colt to the ceiling, nodding to his
In the end, she wanders some way - straight through. ”We’ll take no side-paths. Then at least we’ll be able to find our way back.” She speaks softly, fearing the icicles falling down anyway.
But just as the two of them are making a little progress, she notices that the floors do not go up, and soon enough, the two of them find that the way is twisting sharply to the right, and then left, and the mare and the boy are engulfed by an ice-wall labyrinth. Mirroring ice walls surround them, and the light of her wings reflects in every corner. ”Oh no.” She wants to turn, but finds the way back is equally confusing. Perhaps there’s a bit of magic involved, but whatever the case, they’re stuck until they find their way out of this mirror maze.
Looking to the yearling colt, he seems to be no help either - in fact, he’s disappeared from sight, and she stares at the spot where he should be for longer than necessary, until he makes a small move, and she understands he didn’t leave her, but just involuntary changed appearance.
A small sigh escapes the mare, moving her wings restlessly. The light reflects in all the icy walls, blinding her. She narrows her eyes, then finally, with one look to the left where Pteron is (must be) waiting, she tries something she never did before. To consciously let her wings disappear.
The moon-coloured mare closes her eyes, putting effort in letting go of the wings she has had all her life (she’d always had wings, just not always of this kind). When she opens them again, she grins at herself, it had worked! Now, she looks into the mirrors and sees herself only vaguely – and sees the differences in depth between the walls closest to her and those a little further away. There’s spaces in between.
Through darkness we will find the light, she thinks.
They aren’t there yet, of course. First, they must find their way. She guides Pteron through the ice maze, sometimes wrong, sometimes right – until she decides to only take left turns.
When they finally emerge from the labyrinth, both colt and mare hurry back the way they’d come to find Naia and Jesper back there as well.
”We ended up in a maze. Besides, the path went down, and I do not feel like burying ourselves beneath this mountain.” she informs them.
Pteron will have to exercise some more patience while she tries to work this one out… walking around, she cannot easily find a way that is different from the rest. Outside, there is still a blizzard, a white wall of cold preventing them from searching a route on the surface of the mountain. There was no way they could retreat using their own footsteps.
Steps. Prints.
Turning back, she walks past the small group without much of a word, examining the paths they’d taken. There! Another that they hadn’t walked upon, is different. It lacks snow, and ice dust – has been frequented, has been used. Upon closer inspection, it looks like it goes up, too, which confirms her suspicions. ”This way! This is the path that the pixie takes herself, I think. Look, there’s prints on the floor that aren’t ours.” Perhaps they’ll find even more clues that this path is right, she thinks, as she hurries along with her new friends in tow.
</p></div><div class="ilmaquoterepeat">and shooting stars cannot fix the world</div></div></center>
@[Jesper]
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<center><div class="ilmacontain"><div class="ilma"><i>Ilma</i></div><div class="ilmagrad"></div><div class="ilmaquote">And there's a lesson waiting to be learned<br>the firestarters always get the burns<br>and the good guys never get the girl</div><div style="padding-left:10px;padding-right:10px;"><p class="ilmamess">
Naia’s voice still echoes between ice walls, and Ilma lingers with the younger participant. The white, cremello and blue colt looks up to her to make a move, but she doesn’t, not for a while. There has to be something like a clue around here... anything, really...
Her face scrutinizes and she observes the walls, the floor, the ceiling. She would have liked to talk to the other older horse, he seemed to be an observant one, but he’s off with the dark varnish-gold-roan mare. It falls back to her to think, even though the look on Pteron’s face might grow less and less adoring and more and more impatient in the meantime. At least his notion to be really, really quiet helps: she has room to think and doesn’t need to worry about the sharp icicles falling down due to sound vibrations. She looks from the colt to the ceiling, nodding to his
In the end, she wanders some way - straight through. ”We’ll take no side-paths. Then at least we’ll be able to find our way back.” She speaks softly, fearing the icicles falling down anyway.
But just as the two of them are making a little progress, she notices that the floors do not go up, and soon enough, the two of them find that the way is twisting sharply to the right, and then left, and the mare and the boy are engulfed by an ice-wall labyrinth. Mirroring ice walls surround them, and the light of her wings reflects in every corner. ”Oh no.” She wants to turn, but finds the way back is equally confusing. Perhaps there’s a bit of magic involved, but whatever the case, they’re stuck until they find their way out of this mirror maze.
Looking to the yearling colt, he seems to be no help either - in fact, he’s disappeared from sight, and she stares at the spot where he should be for longer than necessary, until he makes a small move, and she understands he didn’t leave her, but just involuntary changed appearance.
A small sigh escapes the mare, moving her wings restlessly. The light reflects in all the icy walls, blinding her. She narrows her eyes, then finally, with one look to the left where Pteron is (must be) waiting, she tries something she never did before. To consciously let her wings disappear.
The moon-coloured mare closes her eyes, putting effort in letting go of the wings she has had all her life (she’d always had wings, just not always of this kind). When she opens them again, she grins at herself, it had worked! Now, she looks into the mirrors and sees herself only vaguely – and sees the differences in depth between the walls closest to her and those a little further away. There’s spaces in between.
Through darkness we will find the light, she thinks.
They aren’t there yet, of course. First, they must find their way. She guides Pteron through the ice maze, sometimes wrong, sometimes right – until she decides to only take left turns.
When they finally emerge from the labyrinth, both colt and mare hurry back the way they’d come to find Naia and Jesper back there as well.
”We ended up in a maze. Besides, the path went down, and I do not feel like burying ourselves beneath this mountain.” she informs them.
Pteron will have to exercise some more patience while she tries to work this one out… walking around, she cannot easily find a way that is different from the rest. Outside, there is still a blizzard, a white wall of cold preventing them from searching a route on the surface of the mountain. There was no way they could retreat using their own footsteps.
Steps. Prints.
Turning back, she walks past the small group without much of a word, examining the paths they’d taken. There! Another that they hadn’t walked upon, is different. It lacks snow, and ice dust – has been frequented, has been used. Upon closer inspection, it looks like it goes up, too, which confirms her suspicions. ”This way! This is the path that the pixie takes herself, I think. Look, there’s prints on the floor that aren’t ours.” Perhaps they’ll find even more clues that this path is right, she thinks, as she hurries along with her new friends in tow.
</p></div><div class="ilmaquoterepeat">and shooting stars cannot fix the world</div></div></center>
@[Jesper]
Any fool knows men and women think differently at times, but the biggest difference is this: men forget, but never forgive; women forgive, but never forget.
Robert Jordan, Wheel of Time