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Post by madiebeau on Sept 21, 2015 20:36:40 GMT -8
Feeding on fever, down on all fours. His intention never was to stay in one place for so long, but the Lullen (his former home) had consumed him. Akita's broken promise had bound him to the rotwood like an insect to pinboard. Fenrir realises now how complacent he had become in the years spent planning his revenge on her, and anyone, and anything that had ever wronged him - in the years spent cowering from natural, and not so natural disasters. He had thought, once or twice, of aligning himself with the god of his former world. He had, once or twice, considered devoting himself to Kestrel. Before he learned that even gods can die. Even eternities can end. His world's imminent fall drives him from the closest thing to home he has ever known. At least the Lullen had been his for a time. He thinks of his progeny for a fleeting moment. What disappointments they had all turned out to be. Weak sons, and foolish daughters. Perhaps, it was a service to leave them there for the imploding world to destroy. Let them cling to their broken wyvern god. Fenrir didn't have time for death - not yet. It is said that there is a paradise that awaits heroes when they die. Fenrir doesn't really believe in an afterlife. He doesn't really believe in anything except for what he can control. Which is everything and nothing. For instance, even though he does not know it, his subconscious molds the land before him into what he wishes to see. The promise of new beginning in a land far from the rule of Kestrel. Oceanic Steppe is aptly named, for the flat rolls on into the horizon in every direction, and the grasses ripple like shallow ocean waves. Fenrir's red-black form is conspicuous against the stretching flat. He is not used to allowing himself to stray this far from the cover of forested shadows. For a moment he reflects back to the Lullen, and the tangled forest that had kept him for so long. There the rotwood swallowed his entirety, and allowed him to rove unseen - to stalk, and prowl. The Steppe, however, exposes him. The scent of fresh water draws his thirsty lips to a placid lake. Even here the land is flat and mostly featureless. Stunted shrubs offer some cover, but he still feels bare in such a setting. He decides that he will not stay here long. The land is as barren of mares as it is of trees. Still, he is wary. Even out here, he is sure that predators lurk. FENRIR MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOXOGRPHY 2.0
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Post by Tsukino on Sept 22, 2015 9:02:08 GMT -8
i am a flower quickly fading 'A safe land...' That's what they called this place of stone and water. A rule, spoken or unspoken; by those of her kind she supposed for the elements themselves did not care about the mortal lives that traversed their realms. But then the elements didn't need to create more of their kind now did they? It was almost sad at how driven they were by their instincts but what was a beast to do about their own wiring? They could only play puppet to their own desires.
Such thoughts, however; were not welcome in the gray mare's mind for long. Her form of white and grey visible against the eternity of coverless plains, a beacon to the prying eyes of predators and passersby. She doubted even the insects which hid in the sea of green could miss her. It would have been better to stick closer to places of pure stone, places of winter's touch as well. The frost his her well unlike the shadowed woods or bright places filled with warmth. These were the only times she cursed her mother's coat inherited by her, yet in only a few moments later; she would once again adore the complicated patterns.
But how far had she traveled along this open world? Away from the shelter of the effortless trees? Even if she tired of such mindless traveling, the mare had never once considered to find a home. 'Homeless' is what her kind would call her, though she cared not for that description either. Anywhere could be a home be it dangerous or safe. Did one have to be under the control of another to understand that? Kageyuki did not know. She merely traveled because she wished to do so. There was no desire for company or the urge for foals. When there was, she made she that she was in a place that she could not escape from easily to make such a bestial mistake.
Yet, despite all her thoughts; fate would have it another way. Following the scent of water to quench a growing thirst, the female failed to notice the scent of another being there. Careless. Whether she had gotten there before the dark figure, at the same time, or some time after - the creature of stone did not know. She was only focused on wetting her drying throat, eager to leave immediately after doing so. Such open lands were not friendly to those of their kind.
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Post by Bibliobibuli on Sept 24, 2015 21:47:20 GMT -8
Tattoo my heart black again. Braith
Boredom is what lured the eremite from her normally preferred solitude. The days had begun getting shorter and the nights longer, this made the night creature more confident, and with confidence comes recklessness. The sun was shifting, she could feel her skin tingle in anticipation for the embrace of lunar light. Though unusual for her to stir before nightfall, her silence had been disturbed by the echo of hoof beats on the hard terrain she knew so well. Oceanic Steppe was a pretty vast land, of course these transients would pick where she spent most of her days slyly slinking in the shrubs waiting for the cloak of darkness to make the world chimeric for her once more.
This streak of tenacity wouldn't go wasted. Ears tip back as the first set of echoing hooves rested to the north of her, settling by the lake. She studied him; his body was made of the darkness she so secretly relished, his confidence was tragic upon a disheveled facade. He had traveled a good amount of distance to arrive in this stone plated wasteland. A flick of her red tinted tail concluded her studious stare and roan ears buried behind their brown graves.
She moves carefully, defensively almost. The roan paint trusted no one off the bat, rightfully so, without her night time armor she felt exposed. Still, confidence pumped blood to her veins at a rapid rate, screaming at her extremities to advance towards the shadow stranger. Click by click she proceeded, brown eyes meander her surroundings cautiously. Again her ears tipped her off to another set of movements. Stopping, attention was turned to the stone colored mare. The fact the mare appeared so suddenly was an annoyance, Braith did not like surprises. Focus glides from grey mare, to black stallion, and back again. The whites of the grey mare's eyes gave the impression she was just as happy about not being alone as Braith was. Out of instinct when agitated she snorted in distaste, perhaps the only audible sound the mare had made. Deciding the shadow stallion was more of a challenge to her backbone, she naturally chose to explore him first. She passed by the other mare, eyes focused to the black stallion but her auditory perception trained solely on the grey. Stopping a stone's throw away on purpose, her lips parted to reveal a raspy voice, hardly suitable for the faint of heart. "You don't seem settled in these lands." She spoke sternly, ears still slanted towards the mare in her peripherals until the black beast would respond.
WORDS: ### MEL @ ADOXOGRAPHY
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Post by madiebeau on Sept 25, 2015 11:00:35 GMT -8
Feeding on fever, down on all fours. He has felt this way before - this feeling of suspension between living and dying. Once, the Lullen had striped his very flesh from his bone, and swallowed him into the rot-wood in order to save him. The slow, creeping feeling that came upon him when he began to awake within the thawing wood is much the same as what he feels now. Only this time his bones and flesh have remained relatively intact. His heart beats, and he can feel the rattle in his chest. Whereas before (when his essence was trapped in the trees), his heart would beat in one place, and his mind would be in another. His lips would speak from one tree, and his eyes would see from, still, another. Why he chose to return to his bones rather than remaining as part of Bitter Lullen, a god amidst the trees, is simple. His time within the wood had opened his eyes. Kormada was dying. Their god had reached his last days. Perhaps, this scattered feeling is from the way his body has bathed the starways. Or, perhaps, it is because, like the Lullen, Elysium has taken him in order to save him from a dying world. Whether he realizes this or not, he has reached the afterlife. But, this isn’t the first, nor the last that he will see. This land seems ancient and newborn all at once. The lake, what should be, and likely is a common stop for the weary traveler, seems all too pure and clear. Fenrir lifts his head from the surface, and after a few droplets drip from his whiskered chin back into the water the surface quickly turns to glass again. The quiet calm is eerie, but the red-black creature relishes the way his hair prickles in suspense. One comes, as gray as the stone that lines the shore, to quench her thirst. He’s almost disappointed in the way the figments of his imaginations manifest themselves as a lone mare. Or, rather, he would be disappointed if he weren’t so lonely himself. “I was beginning to think I was all alone here.” He calls to the gray mare. She stands not far off, but he still has to raise his voice a little above the usual growl he offers most. He expects her to flee, for he is dark and imposing against the coverless land, and she is seemingly without the protection of a herd. In another setting, perhaps he would have stalked silently until he was close enough to ensure there would be no escape. Perhaps, this is why this land is what some would consider ‘safe,’ for Fenrir pays little heed to ethics and the like. He does not give up opportunities based on silly laws. But, the openness of the Steppe leaves him naked, and without the advantage of the shadows. Another comes. This one seeming more confident and robust in her steps, as if she had something to defend. Fenrir cannot deny the curiosity at what she is hiding that causes his dark eyes to narrow in suspicion. Perhaps, she is protected the gray mare. This only makes Fenrir want to take her even more than before. How silly for a mere female to think she could stop a male from getting what he wants. He huffs below his breath. The red roan stops a ‘safe’ distance away, and Fenrir’s expression returns to one of nonchalance. He has always been adept in using his expressions to make his lying more believable. “No,” he responds, his voice low and reverberating through the heavy calm. “only come to drink.” He offers a partial smile, as his eyes rove over the roan’s feral features. There is savagery in the lines of her body that mimics his. “Am I trespassing?” He asks, with a sideways tilt of his head for effect. Still, his eyes wander back to the gray mare, though their darkness hides his pupils, and camouflages his intentions. But, oh, their wicked gleam. FENRIR MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOXOGRPHY 2.0
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Post by Bibliobibuli on Oct 5, 2015 20:40:57 GMT -8
Tattoo my heart black again. Braith
Brown eyes remain afire with suspicion, as she knew his type far too well. Still, Braith couldn't shake the nagging feeling to provoke him; or at least scratch the surface of his tough guy exterior. Most rough and rugged stallions were nothing but physical shows and a trained sharp tongue. The roan's expectations of finding a suitor of her liking, who wasn't gutless and full of hot air seemed to have poor odds. Them not being completely unbearable to be around was an added bonus, but after seeing what happens to some that choose to travel alone her main goal was security.
He spoke, and it took most of her self control to refrain from eye rolling. Neck shifted to tilt her head, her expression lucid with discontent. "And just how far has that sarcasm gotten you in life, shadow stranger?" Her tone was unyielding, and she daringly took another step towards him. Her nostrils flared as she extended her neck to further inspect the many scents upon his dark pelt. "Not surprisingly, you are a wanderer, as am I. So tell me where your elitist personality comes from." She was intrigued, but not impressed in the slightest. The last thing she planned on doing was invest too much interest where it wasn't worth it.
NOTES: Sorry it's not my longest post! MEL @ ADOXOGRAPHY
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