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Post by Deleted on Jul 28, 2015 4:41:16 GMT
the red and gold dragon of nowhere16.3hh|5yrs|chestnut/palomino chimera|belongs to no heart
ELK STEPPE
summer : early morning
Ra’avis was awestruck at the sight before him, almost forgetting those sharp claws that dug into his wide back.
Elk. Nearly a hundred of the shaggy-necked creatures filed into the grassy flats of the Steppe from the horizon. Their musky scent sat heavily in his flared nostrils, blown in by a strong easterly wind that tossed about his red tail and caressed his maneless crest with stern fingers. Their hooves made a very dull thrum on the earth as the moved slowly towards some unknown destination, heads raising and lowering in odd intervals to keep watch and graze.
But his marveling was cut short by a sharp kneading of the flesh where Aellae stood.
Snapping his head back to glare at the young bearded vulture, the only apology he got was a sharp clack of her hooked beak before she took off from her chestnut and palomino carrier into the pastel gold and blue sky. Vis lipped at the beads of blood that bubbled from where her talons had held on before turning his sage green gaze up to follow his odd little companion out across the grasslands where she began to make large, exaggerated circles over the herd and surrounding terrain.
Watching her for a moment longer, he was interrupted once again by soft hoofbeats. His gold ears twitched atop his bare poll as he tossed his head back over his broad shoulder. The young warmblood stallion was expecting a lost yearling calf or an older cow that had gone exploring and was making their way back to the main body of their summer herd but was surprised instead by a short, thickly feathered mare. Arching a curious brow, he took a step out with his left limb to help turn his body slightly to face this stranger more.
"Come to enjoy the passing of the elk herds too?"
"Ra'avis" "Aellae"
 words: 311 | tag: WHIPSTER. | notes: i hope it's alright i set this in summer, we're only a few hours away from the season changing officially |
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Post by WHIPSTER. on Jul 28, 2015 11:56:53 GMT
WOULD YOU STILL BE THERE?
From the treeline, her wild lupine eyes are staring in wonder. Back home, she remembers her parents as they spoke of strength in numbers when it came to the miles of elk herds who took up space on their once mountainsides. It was as if she was watching a scene she had already lived, déjà vu that brought her great joy. It was the little things that made her miss home sometimes, but Gwendolyn tries her hardest not to dwell too much.
She spots the two toned stallion as he, too, watches and speculates. By his side, and even wandering about, he is with a small bird who fancies his company. Gwen is stuck observing him, now completely lost to the large herd of elk, and almost completely engrossed in Ra'avis' body, so strangely marked of two dashing shades ( though almost opposite ... ) and he reminds her of the setting red sun. The splotched gold mare grins, beside herself, and slowly inches forward.
The dainty mare eventually is standing close enough that she can feel his eyes slowly turn into her curves. She is lost in silent desire, of which she would never speak of, or act upon. Gwendolyn is far too bitter to want someone. Gears turn in her head, and she is almost incoherent to the world until his voice, like fingertips along her spine, breaks her concentration. “Come to enjoy the passing of the elk herds, too?” She takes the chance and starts forward again, moving her small frame just beside the stallion.
“Yes,” Gwendolyn says softly. Her lupine eyes gaze up at him, like a doe, admiringly ( if you'd call it that ). She decided not to show this stranger the hurricane that she is, so she is colored in pastels and calm. It's a grave peace. “They haven't changed since I was a filly. Still big in number. See there–” her eyes fall upon two fawns, they play wildly around their mother. “They are always so playful.”
Then, Gwendolyn focuses on the little bird. She smiles, ever so sweet, and nickers to it. “My name is Gwendolyn.”
@malidoodle / omg muse |
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Post by Deleted on Jul 29, 2015 8:21:52 GMT
the red and gold dragon of nowhere16.3hh|5yrs|chestnut/palomino chimera|belongs to no heart
He could see she was lost somewhere beyond here with her golden gaze resting upon him. Where she traveled to, Ra'avis would never know. Her mind could be a raging storm that needed taming just behind those painted, feminine features or she could be drifting through an oblivion that had dragged her from this reality.
But he seemed to have the power to bring her back with a silly little opener.
And when she came to rest beside him with head upturned to meet his springtime gaze with something a little more than that usual amiable light, he could feel his heart thump a little faster. Oh, yes. He definitely had a thing for short girls.
It was a small shame when she moved those eyes of liquid lure to a cow and what Vis could only guess to be her twin young romping around her thin legged form. For a moment he felt a sharp pang of...something. Guilt for swallowing his own twin in the womb? Envy of the siblings' bond and of the mother's attentive love. Or maybe even a teeny tiny jab of longing to stand where that cow is, quietly watching his own child play about in the world around them.
Shaking his head softly, he turned his attention back to this stranger. "They deserve it. I'm sure their migration is no easy feat." His rumbling voice took on a mild, husky edge as he recovered from the small emotional tide. "You mentioned seeing them as a filly? I take it you're not some nomad come to seek fortune or summer in Tathra?"
His gaze followed his company's own honeyed one back up towards the pale morning sky where Aellae was still making her lazy loops. The Vanner mare let out a nicker towards the vulture who was but a crude, dark chocolate and grey outline in the pale sky where she normally stood at a good five or so inches short of four feet. He let a soft smile curl one edge of his lips at the stranger's gesture as he admired his companion's ability to soar on the thermal drafts only her feathered kind knew how to harness. There was the oh-so-tiny desire to learn her tricks, but he understood that the possibility of him ever lifting from the ground any higher than he could jump was an absolute zero.
Horses were not meant to fly, a fact his heart ignored at Gwendolyn's soft smile. The patchwork warmblood's dark muzzle broke into a much brighter grin as he inclined and then righted his head in a makeshift greeting to his newly introduced acquaintance.
"And mine is Ra'avis, though I'd prefer if you'd call me Vis."
"Ra'avis" "Aellae"
words: 452 | tag: WHIPSTER. | notes: where is all this muse coming from?? |
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Post by WHIPSTER. on Jul 31, 2015 15:59:54 GMT
WOULD YOU STILL BE THERE?
She attentively listens to him, little ears flickering forward just slight. In her solitude standing there, she can see the look in which he gives the scene of mother and child, and her heart tightens. Is it remorse for what's happened that makes him feel so? If she didn't hate the thought of ... ( what, love? ) she might have pulled him close. That impulse ceases quickly, she turns her lupine gaze back to his face. His voice continues to peek her interest, and she chuckles slightly, then sighs contentedly. “I take it you're not some nomad come to seek fortune or summer in Tathra?” This makes her shrug, remembering being young and watching from this same spot.
“Many die in this resting period,” she comments, matter of factly, because he is right. The great migration weeds out the strong from the weak. It is survival of the fittest ... The most unfair part of life. She frowns, looks at Ra'avis' feet, then her own. “I've drifted in and out of Tathra my whole life, actually. I've watched some of these Elk grow.” It took mere seconds and her mood lifts already, she pulls a smile on her face that is far more flattering than the frown. The gold painted woman shifts which hoof she leans on, ears twitching to focus on the flapping of Aellea. She can hear it, surprisingly, it rides the winds much like the vulture herself.
His name is as unique as him. Gwendolyn can't help it as her lupine gaze trails his neck, like fingertips running across his chest, her body shivering. She's thinking a million things — a whirlwind, a hurricane waiting for the wrong time — can he see her destruction? The turning in her mind because her heart flutters ( she can't feel this way, she can't ).
Gwen clears her throat, chewing the inside of her lip and she fights to find words to say. “Its my pleasure, then, Vis. Your name is as handsome as you are, pardon my observation.” The Vanner swallows then; she doesn't feel wrong saying this, even if she tells herself she doesn't mean it. Nobody was capable of love, she tells herself. Especially a stallion of his stature, of his power, he's not different. She's mentally razoring her skin, a sudden tingle of her joints as she fiends for pain. It's a brainwashing mechanism she has forced upon herself. A reminder: you are nothing.
But what you feel is not nothing.
“Will you enjoy the day with me, Vis? I could show you things.” She doesn't even know herself that second.
@malidoodle / im so sorry this is late but wow i am liking where it's going *~* |
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Post by Deleted on Aug 4, 2015 6:21:56 GMT
the red and gold dragon of nowhere16.3hh|5yrs|chestnut/palomino chimera|belongs to no heart
He liked the way her lips moved when she laughed, the attentive way her ears flicked, the way her dappled skin moved over her shoulders as she rolled them. Gwendolyn seemed content in the chimeric boy's presence and it made him melt even more.
But, when she speaks of death, he shies away from the subject. Tossing a glance back up to Aellae who was still focused on surveying the herd, he couldn't help but get a sinking feeling those weak and dying that Gwen described was exactly what the lammergeier was after. She had told him of mature individuals of her kind that had no problem in snatching young lambs or goat kids. How would a dying calf fare if she were hungry enough to go after flesh? Vis couldn't remember the last time she had gone 'hunting' for old and decayed carcasses...
No. Such thoughts should not belong in this space here and now. Here and now should be dedicated to this golden lady who's own mood seemed to have dipped if the frown on her delicate features was anything to go off of. His palomino brows knitted above his sage green eyes and he tilted his head slightly, losing her gaze as it fell to her hooves. "It sounds like you don't have the best of memories here in Tathra. If you don't mind me asking, why do you keep coming back?"
Whether his question got answered or not, he couldn't help but feel that odd little feeling of weightlessness when that smile of hers slipped back onto her lips. The feeling only intensified when her wolf-like gaze floats about his tall, patchwork frame. What she was doing, was she aware of it?
She had to be.
Still, Vis caught that small shiver that passed across Gwendolyn's painted skin, one that does well to shake this belief. All he can manage when she speaks again, praising his name and appearance, is a sheepish schoolboy grin. His ears prick forward at the sound of her swallowing, he registers it too slow, though, as his lips are already moving to reply.
"No pardon needed, but your presence alone is all the compliment I deserve." He offered a soft dip of his head, ears flicking back into a resting position. The red and gold boy was hoping to get the attention off himself, place it upon someone more worthy.
All for not it seemed. Gwen switched the focus back upon him, offering up a proposition that made his heart pick up its pace once again. The little pricks along the length of his back from Aellae's claws pounded with dull thuds to the rhythm of the beats, reminding him he was still an earthly being and needed all the composure he could get while standing before this palomino angel. "Of course, how could I turn that down?" Taking a step to the side on mismatched limbs that were itching to run, he angled his wide forequarters to face the short Vanner. "Lead on, m'lady"
"Ra'avis" "Aellae"
words:504|tag: WHIPSTER.| aellae|notes: i am terribly late. college registration is a pain |
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