2 characters
46 posts
Aryel
To all you saints and sinners, you losers and you winners, here's to one more day above the roses.
|
Post by fennecfyre on Jul 27, 2016 19:47:51 GMT
Spring and fall had always been Aryel's favorite times of year. They were times of change and transition, evidence of the great wheel of the seasons turning in it's endless cycle. Between the two, however, she found she preferred spring more. It meant an end to the hardships of winter, and the beginning of new life. Plants burst forth from the soil, predators were less desperate, and heated liaisons were formed that would herald the birth of new foals come fall.
Spring also brought with it a particular delight--the start of berry season. The succulent little spheres were often a welcome break from grass. Later on in the year, she knew, there would be raspberries and blackberries and other delicious treats, but at this particular moment, it was blueberry season. She had found a cluster of small bushes within the woods, loaded down with newly-ripened berries. The crows and magpies would soon make short work of them, so for now she lipped up as many of the purplish-blue fruits as she could. After a winter of nothing but dry grass and lichen, she savored the addition of a bit of sweetness to her diet.
|
|
3 characters
175 posts
Dracken
Fate
touch the parts of me that are scarred from knives, once disguised as open hands
|
Post by Kezz on Jul 28, 2016 13:35:34 GMT
Forest - how Dracken hated it. Even gentle swaying willow woodland such as this made him feel claustrophobic and uncomfortable. The branches overhead stroked his back as he thudded through the shadows, clawing at his ochre skin. Dracken been born beneath the open desert sky, and as much as he'd grown to loathe the owner of The Dunes he had never once been able to stir up even an ounce of resentment for the home in which he had been raised. For in the vast barren aridity he had found peace against the war in his mind. It had pained the prince to leave his promised kingdom, and he could not deny that he missed it. For here, he was yet to find a land that he could liken to the limitless ocean of gold. Dracken curled his lip as he shouldered forward: a rare manifestation of displeasure. His mood was only darkened further by the breach of his solitude - Dracken was not an entirely unsociable man, but certainly there were times when he required a degree of isolation. He was not a descendent of Fate for nothing. Iron-grey eyes settled heavily upon the girl's frame, condescension dripping from his gaze. She was perhaps the smallest of his kind he had ever seen. Where he came from the girls were tall, and the men taller still; what kind of bloodline was this? Dracken stared - audacious, impertinent, cold.
|
|
2 characters
46 posts
Aryel
To all you saints and sinners, you losers and you winners, here's to one more day above the roses.
|
Post by fennecfyre on Jul 28, 2016 14:29:28 GMT
Normally, Aryel was rather alert--as a lone mare, she had to be. Both predators and rogue horses were potential sources of danger, and she disliked being caught by surprise. However, so focused on her meal was she that she didn't hear the other horse's approach until he was visible in the sunlight filtering down into the clearing. She jumped slightly as she finally took notice, his grey coat having obscured him until he was too close not to miss. However, the bold little mare recovered from her startle quickly, and lifted her chin to return his gaze, waiting expectantly for him to say something. This was...odd, to say the least. It didn't seem like he had been trying to sneak up on her, but he hadn't so much as nickered to alert her to his presence. Furthermore, he was looking at her with a particular disdain--the same way a horse might look at something unpleasant stuck to the bottom of their hoof. She didn't appreciate that kind of look one bit, and shook out her mane with a loud snort. "Can I help you?" she asked him, cocking a brow, "or do you just make a habit of gawking at strangers?" Maybe he had come here intending to feed from this blueberry patch, only to find another horse had beaten him to it? She didn't object to sharing, so long as he didn't try to be an ass about it. Finders keepers. Kezz
|
|