12-23-2018, 06:29 AM
Leilan
Glaciers melting in the dead of night
and the superstars sucked into the supermassive
and the superstars sucked into the supermassive
Of course, he couldn’t be the only one so attached to snow or ice to come here.
It’s funny how many horses Beqanna has, that all have a little ice magic; all of them must have been waiting for a cold area to surface again. After the Reckoning, with the disappearance of the Tundra, only the high and lonely mountains had been of their element. Nerine, as he’d found it, was cool enough in summers, with it’s sea climate, and so that’s where he had been for some time. Other now resurfaced from other places; Jesper the arctic fox, Kora the winter manipulator, and Briella had even earned herself some temporary healing ability that only had worked around ice. Unfortunately, she had spent her time in the Island Resort and he hadn’t seen her since, so hardly anybody in Nerine had been able to ask for her help.
It didn’t matter - he couldn’t expect such from such a young mare. Other healers might be around, though hardly any made it up here, like hardly any horses made it up here at all.
This one was an exception to the latter, but had obviously come here for the element. The icy scales on his own body betrayed Leilan as another winter-accustomed horse, although most of the cold element was to him, on the inside - dragon ice to spit out if needed, with which he’d patched a crater Heartfire had made, with which he could temporarily create an icy layer on the heart-shaped lake. Ice that kept him from freesing to death even if he would get lost in a winter-storm out there in the northern parts of the island. Ice that now clung to his body, where magic icicles had struck him in his attempt to bring some to the Mountain, which would help the fairies heal the plague... hopefully.
The stallion before him bears ice istead of mane and tail, a light contrast to the deep red of a chestnut. The roan approaches not too loudly, not too softly - he wants to make his approach clear, intent on talking ot this man. ”Good day to you. I see you’re agreeing with the climate as well.” his eyes take an aqua teint as he grins upon the other man. ”I’m Leilan. Originally from Nerine... Have you come to live here?” he wonders. So many horses do - it’s ridiculous - and then so many others leave when they realize the cold keeps out most food sources, or the fight and bloodflow they seemingly wished for does not happen soon enough. Well, good riddance, Leilan doesn’t want a bloody war over a piece of ice. He’d just come for it’s solitude and cold, clean air - he didn’t need the heat and tang of blood to mingle with it.
It’s funny how many horses Beqanna has, that all have a little ice magic; all of them must have been waiting for a cold area to surface again. After the Reckoning, with the disappearance of the Tundra, only the high and lonely mountains had been of their element. Nerine, as he’d found it, was cool enough in summers, with it’s sea climate, and so that’s where he had been for some time. Other now resurfaced from other places; Jesper the arctic fox, Kora the winter manipulator, and Briella had even earned herself some temporary healing ability that only had worked around ice. Unfortunately, she had spent her time in the Island Resort and he hadn’t seen her since, so hardly anybody in Nerine had been able to ask for her help.
It didn’t matter - he couldn’t expect such from such a young mare. Other healers might be around, though hardly any made it up here, like hardly any horses made it up here at all.
This one was an exception to the latter, but had obviously come here for the element. The icy scales on his own body betrayed Leilan as another winter-accustomed horse, although most of the cold element was to him, on the inside - dragon ice to spit out if needed, with which he’d patched a crater Heartfire had made, with which he could temporarily create an icy layer on the heart-shaped lake. Ice that kept him from freesing to death even if he would get lost in a winter-storm out there in the northern parts of the island. Ice that now clung to his body, where magic icicles had struck him in his attempt to bring some to the Mountain, which would help the fairies heal the plague... hopefully.
The stallion before him bears ice istead of mane and tail, a light contrast to the deep red of a chestnut. The roan approaches not too loudly, not too softly - he wants to make his approach clear, intent on talking ot this man. ”Good day to you. I see you’re agreeing with the climate as well.” his eyes take an aqua teint as he grins upon the other man. ”I’m Leilan. Originally from Nerine... Have you come to live here?” he wonders. So many horses do - it’s ridiculous - and then so many others leave when they realize the cold keeps out most food sources, or the fight and bloodflow they seemingly wished for does not happen soon enough. Well, good riddance, Leilan doesn’t want a bloody war over a piece of ice. He’d just come for it’s solitude and cold, clean air - he didn’t need the heat and tang of blood to mingle with it.
you set my soul alight
@[Scholar]
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
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