04-07-2015, 01:28 PM
(This post was last modified: 04-07-2015, 01:33 PM by Dorne.)
In a circle around her, the ground is black and burnt, and the grass nearby is withered from heat.
There is no fire anymore – the spring has been too wet to allow it to spread – and Dorne is just waking up from her position in the center of it all.
The smell of ash is strong, and the green-eyed mare blinks away the sleep from her eyes as she rolls to her feet. Judging from the way she looks at the charred earth around her, this is not the first time that the spotted mare has woken up in such a situation.
Awake, she has control of the fire that burns inside her; when she dreams she defends herself from imaginary foes using genuine dragon fire.
The white blanket on her hips and back is smeared with soot (the fire burned beneath her while she slept on), and her stockinged legs are blackened as well. There is a stream nearby, and she leaves her burnt circle to wade into it. As tall as she is, the water does not even reach her belly, so she drops to roll against the smooth stones at the river’s edge until she is black only in the proper places.
She shakes the water off and raises her emerald gaze to the crescent moon, and considers falling back asleep. The dawn is pinking the edges of the horizon though, and the mare decides that she might as well start yet another day as homeless mare. She’s avoided contact with other horses for the past month for her own reasons, but this morning, if someone were to approach, perhaps he’d not walk the other way.
I have ponies in the Desert and the Falls already, but I’m open to anywhere else
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04-07-2015, 01:44 PM
(This post was last modified: 04-07-2015, 01:47 PM by Pharaon.)
“All human wisdom is contained in these two words - Wait and Hope”
-Alexandre Dumas
Pharaon often travels to The Field, only once as a homeless mare, but more often as a horse in search of friends and family. Spring is in the air today, the birds chirp and chatter as the small, grey Pharaon journeys further into the Field. The smell of dew and growth and blossoms reach her nostrils and she inhales deeply. But with each step of her delicate legs, something almost sinister begins to lace the air. The scent of ash. The smell of smoke and fire. Has there been yet another disaster? she thinks to herself. Mind whirling from the recent events that shook her homeland, the Jungle. While it was not fire - but ice - that plagued her homeland, the unusual sent her mind into a panic. Quickly, purposefully, Pharaon scans the Field around her. Her amber eyes search for something, anything that may be the source of this strange fire. Just a ways off to her right, another mare appears suddenly, rising to her feet. Her coat is covered in soot, ash flies from it as she shakes. Pharaon picks up a swift trot in her direction. "Are you alright?! Were you caught in the fire?" she calls out to the other as she nears. The dapple grey has concern lacing her voice. Though as her eyes scan the other for signs of distress, a slight sense of confusion crosses her face. The mare seemed unhurt. Pharaon was relieved, yet rather alarmed.
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In a blink, everything changes.
Before, she was a wide-eyed child with great enthusiasm for the world, but little understanding of it. Before, she was forced to learn on her own, a difficult task growing up both motherless and fatherless. She discovered loyalty and loss, anger and angst. She found passion and purpose; love was a new and rare blossom, even under layers of flesh and metal. She had lived a full life, or at least she thought she had.
But that was before - before her swollen belly flattened again, and she met the cause of many uncomfortable months.
The pair set off in the pre-dawn black. The black colt at her side is perhaps too young for a trip to the Field, but as a new and fretful mother, Talulah doesn’t realize her mistake. She thought about leaving him with Elysteria and her child, but despite the slow pace they are forced to keep, she is glad he is gaining the experience. Her own experiences outside of the Dale had been sorely lacking before her first birthday (and then, the Chamber had kept imprisoned for a year of no experience whatsoever) and it was important that Ramiel knew of the world outside the mountain kingdom. Even if she selfishly hoped he never left its borders.
His bottlebrush tail wags excitedly when they leave home, but by the time they reach the lush field, it is decidedly less animated. Talulah decides to stop and allow him to rest. But just as she’s pulling him to her side, her amber eyes catch sight of the charred earth. Tiberios, she thinks. Quickly, the metal-mare makes her way over with her son in tow. It’s not the sabino that she’s hoping to see when she arrives, hooves planted at the edge of the crisped grass, but it’s a familiar face nonetheless. Lyric? The girl is larger and darker, but those spots are hard to miss.
Another mare asks if she is alright, and though she looks unhurt to Talulah, the Dalean waits for her answer before adding, “Was this from you or someone else?” It’s difficult to mask the hope in her voice when she says it, and she clears her throat before turning to the other grey, including both of them in her introduction. “I’m Talulah.” She steps forward, gingerly at first, before she realizes that the ground holds no heat. She nudges the colt gently. “I’m Ramiel.” He nods politely, as mother has taught him to do. The strange smell in the air unnerves him, however, and he sidles closer to the familiar, cold side of his dam.
t a l u l a h
lady of the Dale |
reference //info
As a child you would wait, and watch from far away.
But you always knew you'd be the one to work while they all play.
It's child-time, the time when all the mares in the world seem to be giving birth. This doesn't bother Librette; it's never been something she's particularly influenced by one way or the other. She isn't fond of children, in her 50+ years of life (with a handful of years of death thrown in there, just for spice) she's only had three. She doesn't hold it against the other – she has contemplated it, to fill the void of silence that seems to be settling across Beqanna.
But no, there are better solutions.
Like the field.
She is not here long before she smells the scent of dull burning. It isn't sharp like a forest fire, it's older, muted somehow. She follows it to its source, seeing the burned circle, and then seeing the mare nearby. Being from a mythical land with a resident pyromaniac, the thought that the two are somehow connected crosses her mind immediately. Interesting.
The mare already has a small crowd gathered. One mare that Librette doesn't realize, but who bears the tattoos of the Amazons. And then Talulah, who Librette knows from her quick trip to the Dale not long ago. She offers them both a nod. "Talulah." she greets, with the same roughness in her voice that she's always had.
And then she turns her attention to the mare that they've clearly all come to see, the mare who bears no kingdom's scent or markings (but is still redolent of smoke). To look at her, the mare looks like a normal appaloosa, but Librette senses that something more lies beneath the surface (something likely related to the scent of smoke).
Quite the contrast to Librette, who is exactly what she appears. A regular chestnut, sturdily built but well muscled. She is not beautiful, not remarkable in any way; even her eyes are a very prosaic shade of brown. Her mythical trait is writ large across her back, the two hawk-wings rising from either side of her spine. They are incongruously beautiful, totally out of place when you look at them next to the rest of her. A white slash across her chest completes her oddities, brightly white and directly above her heart.
"I'm Librette." she says, her voice level, her eyes focusing on the appaloosa. "What's your name?" She pauses, her eyes flickering to the fire circle for just a moment. But she leaves it at that for now. There will be time to talk fire later.
Don't weep for me LIBRETTEBecause this will be the labor of my love.
Image copyright FFFiiiAA
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It had been a long time since Taoh had ventured anywhere public and it created a since of slight paranoia, his last adventure hadn’t gone so well. He preferred to stick to the mountains, his gray dappled coat blended into the snow better there. He had been wandering so long on his own that he wasn’t entirely sure how to interact anymore, however something was telling him it was time to set out in search for a herd. It was the onset of spring and there was crisp warmth in the air, the birds had come out, and life was blooming around him. The sun was beginning to peak up over the mountains and he could feel its warmth bouncing off of his wings. You could see his story written on his body, highlighted by scars on his sides and back; the foolishness of a young stallion, the fire had done more damage than he cared for and it was another reason he preferred the snow. He was smarter now, and more careful, he planned to do things differently. He wanted to find a home; somewhere he could bring his herd and raise children.
Taoh was a large stallion, but his horn and wings provided some defense and added some bulk to his lean muscled body. As he made his way through the trees to the creek to the base of the mountain you could see his ears flickering in all different directions, it was better to remain alert than to be caught by surprise. He stopped for a drink, his breath making ripples in the water. His mane was matted, falling in dreads down his neck and shoulders, almost long enough to catch the top of the water. He wondered who he would bring with him to his new home and hoped that he would be more successful this time. He was lean and muscled, he had good endurance, and this was the perfect time physically and mentally. There was a crack in the trees behind him, startled, his head flew up and he whipped it around, his horn glinting in the light. He snorted and then noticed a deer, it was just a deer, but it was enough to make him uncomfortable. Realizing it was time to move on he stepped through the shallow gurgling water of the creek and began to make his way to the meadow, deciding he should steak his claim on a few mares and then take them back to his home, being out like this made him uncomfortable and he decided that he didn’t want to be here too long.
It was then he noticed a mare, standing in the water, he noticed she had the most beautiful green eyes. Intrigued he approached, it was then he noticed the other mares surrounding her, amazonian by his assumption. “Always tracking down new recruits.” He thought exasperatedly. He wasn’t even entirely sure he had a chance. On his way to the creek he noticed a circle of ash, and the chars on the side of this new prospects body.
Upon his approach he dipped his horn, nickering deeply, “I can handle a little fire; ‘Names Taoh, what can I call you?”
Deep down he knew how cheesy he sounded, it had been a long time since he’d approached anyone, his last trait obsessed fling had done damage, he had raised his son after her disappointment at his lack of traits, he hoped this mare was more compassionate, but only time would tell. He nodded in the direction of the other mares, barely giving them notice. That’s all that they would get from him, he wasn’t here to fight, if she didn’t want to come with him, he didn’t have to.
Dorne had missed the disasters, and having only seen the greenery that remained in the Deserts from the flood, does not consider them too terrible a thing. She is unaware of the culture of fear that they have inspired in Beqanna among those with homes that might have been lost. Dorne had no home, and no worries. She is still homeless now, but the worry has finally begun to set in.
When she turns to the grey mare, it does not occur to Dorne that the other might be worried. She is somewhat taken aback by the fear in the other female’s voice, and perplexed at the worry. “Wha… No. No, I’m fine. I did it. The fire, I mean. I caused the fire.” The words are a tumble, hurried to try and assuage Pharaon’s concern, without much thought on Dorne’s part. “Thank you though,” she adds belatedly, “For your concern, I mean. Thanks.”
She’s only just stopped speaking when they are joined by another pair, a mare and her foal. They come from the Dale, Dorne knows; she would know that scent anywhere. Don’t react, she tells herself, just breathe, And she does just that, breathes slowly, so that the fire inside her emerges only as a thin stream of smoke from her speckled nostrils. “It’s from me,” she says to them both, curious despite herself at why Talulah might ask. Had she expected it to be Lyric? Had her mother known this mare? Don’t ask, she tells herself, don’t. So she does not.
“I’m Dorne.” She tells them all (all, because they have been joined by a chestnut pegasus and a grey stallion with wings of his own). I had wings once, Dorne thinks, wide and dark, with supple leathery skin that had her soaring. They are gone now, and her shoulders are covered only by spots. “How, uh, how are you all today?”
“All human wisdom is contained in these two words - Wait and Hope”
-Alexandre Dumas
The disasters had ripped apart Pharaon's home -the Jungle. The ice had rained down upon them. The blizzard blinded them. And the frigid wind swept in to claim their hot, humid lands. The Amazonian women were not adapted to such a climate - but they persevered.. Just like they always do. The warrior women of the Jungle were strong. Fierce. Able. Pharaon had become one of them - despite the kind, innocent demeanor she often exhibited. The little grey had made it through the cold snows. She was here, standing, breathing, living for her sisters. And she was proud of that fact - embracing the vine and flower tattoo than now climbed her foreleg.
She sighed with relief audibly, as the fire-mare reassured her that there was no danger. A smile lit her face then - as she understood that the feat was just another of Beqanna's magical wonders. (Pharaon has yet to be exposed to many of the 'hidden' traits some horses possess). "Oh good. I'm glad you are alright! But before the conversation could progress further, a few others joined the small group - no doubt, drawn my the smoke that now sizzled from the mare's nostrils. Pharaon eyed the others - a mare and colt named Talulah and Ramiel, a winged mare named Librette, and a winged stallion named Toah. She had not met their acquaintance prior to this moment, though she always tried her very best to remember everyone.
"My name is Pharaon - from the Jungle. I'm doing quite well, thank you. she pauses briefly, allowing her name to sink into the ears of those around her (she's found the French sounding flair of - Fair-aye-ohn can often be slightly confusing). Her amber eyes are kind as they meet Dorne's. "How are you doing, Dorne? Is there anything I can help you with? Pharaon isn't one to give the typical "you should come live here - it's awesome!" line. Instead, she prefers to get to know those souls who (like herself) visited the Field in search of something. Be it friends, family, or a home. Maybe there is something Pharaon can do to help her along her way.
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The Dale had suffered a unique brand of disaster compared to the rest of the kingdoms. Beastly creatures like gargantuan wolves had roamed the countryside, slobbering at the smell of life and attacking at the sight. Talulah had heard about the monsters but hadn’t experienced them herself. She was at the monarch meeting, and the fact that such a catastrophe could happen without her knowing was its own horror. When she thinks of it, she nudges Ramiel closer against her. Having her son at her side as a second shadow is a newfound kind of comfort. She already dreads the day when he will no longer follow her every move, though she realizes that day is fast approaching.
They appear a united front for now, at least. And as more horses approach the scorched earth circle they surround, both mother and son smile at each one. Finally, when there is a break in the arrival of greeters, Dorne manages to speak. She reveals that she is the cause of the burn by her words, and if that isn’t confirmation enough, the smoke emerging from her nostrils surely is. Talulah shifts her weight and assesses the other horses and their reactions. Would they be scared off by such a display? Or would they be more eager at the prospects of having a fire-wielding tool readily available?
The Dale already has its own such weapon. Though Tiberios is currently missing, the metal-mare thinks that he would be a great help to the spotted mare. It seems like somewhat of a loss of control, this burnt circle, and perhaps she would welcome advice. Even if Dorne has mastered her gift and Talulah was mistaken, having an ally with similar power can’t be a bad thing.
Pharaon answers first and Talulah listens with open ears and a soft gaze. She enjoys hearing about the other kingdoms, but more importantly, it was required of her. Behind her friendly expression, she is the steel that her body reflects. She searches for hidden meaning in the mare’s words, an unhappy ear flick, a shifting of her eyes. The Amazons are a powerful kingdom, and with Tiphon currently ensnared in politics there, it is imperative to know absolutely everything you can. Silence stretches after the grey speaks, and Talulah turns back to the spotted woman. “I currently have one shadow more than usual, so I’m also doing very well.” Here, her smile is completely genuine and innocent. Ramiel is the biggest boon to her life thus far. “I’m not sure how new your gift is there, but we have a stallion with a similar trait in the Dale. If you want to come and check it out, I’d be more than happy to show you around.” They both know why Dorne is here; they both know each other’s ultimate goal. But even if the spotted mare isn’t meant for the Dale, Talulah is still genuinely happy to show off her home.
t a l u l a h
lady of the Dale |
reference //info
As a child you would wait, and watch from far away.
But you always knew you'd be the one to work while they all play.
The mare who is the center of everyone's attention speaks again, and Librette wonders if she recognizes a kindred spirit.
She could be this girl, if she were only much younger and far more spotted. She would have been this girl, all those many years ago when they first approached her, when Glenora told her about the Forsaken Valley, when she first came to live in the place that she calls home (and loves deeply). She wouldn't have known how to handle a crowd like this back then, and really, she still doesn't know how to do it well. She tolerates it, simply because kingdom meetings are a thing that must be done when you are queen, but she's not very good at it.
The girl's fire intrigues her, and she's happy to hear confirmation that the girl did indeed cause it. Fire manipulation in virtually any controlled form is a good thing to have on your side. But she knows the way these things work, at least well enough to know that everyone will get a chance to speak in turn. Pharaon is first, talking about the jungle (tattoos, the chestnut girl reminds herself) and being generally terribly concerned about being helpful. As though they don't all know what is going on here. As though they don't know exactly what Dorne is looking for help with. Horses don't just wander into the field, especially not the ones that smell of smoke and Beqanna with just a hint of Deserts.
Talulah speaks next, and Librette can't possibly imagine why she's so happy to have a foal. Librette herself is about the opposite of maternal. She's had three children in her lifetime, one of whom turned out deranged, killing the second one. The third one is kicking around somewhere, minding her own business and generally being the poster child for stability.
Basically, don't let Librette raise your kids. It's just not going to end well.
At least Talulah doesn't dance around the point of the thing. They do all know why they're here, after all. And once the metal-mare has spoken, Librette knows that the circle comes back around to her. "The Valley has a horse with a similar trait as well." she speaks, watching the girl's reaction. "But really, I wouldn't pick a home on that." It is not a dig at Talulah, more a quiet musing, almost as though she's thinking aloud. "I chose the Valley a long time ago, and no other place could ever be home." her voice is serious now. Her unremarkable brown eyes meet Dorne's gaze. "Maybe it could be the same for you."
Don't weep for me LIBRETTEBecause this will be the labor of my love.
Image copyright FFFiiiAA
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