Halcyon Flats Bloodlust - Printable Version +- the Rift (http://riftrpg.net) +-- Forum: Archives (http://riftrpg.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=20) +--- Forum: Year 1174 (http://riftrpg.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=63) +---- Forum: Incomplete (http://riftrpg.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=65) +---- Thread: Halcyon Flats Bloodlust (/showthread.php?tid=1091) |
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Bloodlust - Ahlora - 05-11-2018 @Zahra
RE: Bloodlust - Zahra - 05-12-2018 Zahra & Ilham It was pride that turned angels into devils
A month after she’d treated the wounded eagle, the companion of Halyven’s Kiada (she had learned), Zahra boarded swift thermal winds back to the eastern seaboard, with a mind to visit young kingdom which called the region home. She’d quite enjoyed the company of the mare - despite the gravity of the situation which had united them - and though felt felt little inclination to join the forming herd she spoke well of, the native Helovian was glad for the company of one who seemed to share a good number of the woes which had brought them to the Rift. And she might have descended on cue, swirling downwards through the drizzling rain towards the spires that pierced the bleak, grey horizon, had not she heard the raucous screaming further afield. Expanding her broad wingspan to maintain elevation, the pegasus followed the overt sound towards the sandy flats before the sea. With ears pressed forward and her keen, golden eyes set upon the patchwork landscape, blurred beneath her, Zahra searched for the stranger who, she felt, was suffering some form of peril - for what else would provoke such an exhibition of vocal energy. From her vantage, it did not take her long to pinpoint the body which streaked between the rain-swollen pools dotting the plain: the other was galloping headlong, their stride long and reckless, churning the surface of the landscape and leaving in her wake such damage, that the watching mare was taken aback. Skimming the region behind, the painted mare could see no aggressor - no reason for the fury of the sprint. With a good measure of caution, Zahra began her descent, circling at length first, then slipping the lean, long line of her wings in nearer to her body until the split moment before hooves collided with the sand. Glassy, tinted primaries flared forth to cease the momentum of the fall, and with hooves drumming, she merged with the world of those who were earthbound. Slowing, well ahead of the stranger who continued quickly, the daughter of the Gallant and the Starry-Eyed swivelled around to meet them. “Hail!…” her smooth voice sang out, slicing with any luck through the veil of rain so that the other might heed and then slow. @Ahlora RE: Bloodlust - Ahlora - 05-13-2018 @Zahra
RE: Bloodlust - Zahra - 05-15-2018 Zahra & Ilham It was pride that turned angels into devils
Perhaps her arrival upon the glassy, gleaming stretch of flat had slipped by the other’s notice altogether; it certainly seemed so. Those bright-tinted hooves, even visible through the mist across the way, which were driving through sandy-loam with knife-like intent, looked to startle and slow and the head aboard the pumping length of neck above, lead forth a swift swivel until she faced a new forward. All of this, presumably, was to seek the source of the voice which summoned notice - Zahra. The painted woman, standing otherwise quietly in the rain, was rather taken aback by the savage nature of the greeting she received, if it could be called that at all. Irritability, nay - outrage - was sprawled through the other's part veiled features (a forelock with fading hue swept like a restless pendulum across), and the glint in the wildly vexed glare returned, was nothing short of threatening. Zahra’s own posture stiffened, retaliating defensively, actively, to the less than humble display ahead and her amicable eye narrowed warily. The stranger snapped harshly, her tone unnecessarily rude, and black and white wings gathered nearer, upwards, inflating the outwards portrayal of herself subconsciously; boldly. There was something unsettlingly predatory about the demeanour of pegasus before her, yet the weaver held her ground firmly - she was an unruly wreck no longer. It was for that very reason that Zahra challenged her aggressor’s tone, whatever reason founded such behaviour. “Mind your tone stranger,” she began, voice level and poised, though elevated enough to penetrate the miserable weather. “I will lower my guard, if you lower yours…” Zahra dared a step forward and lowered the cautious stance of her wings; her pale eyes were ever heedful of her company's hostile aura. There were feathers dressing four shoulders, hers and this mare’s, which gave them true grounds for harmony - birds of a feather, or so the saying went. RE: Bloodlust - Ahlora - 05-15-2018 @Zahra
RE: Bloodlust - Zahra - 05-20-2018 Zahra & Ilham It was pride that turned angels into devils
There was no denying the reluctance in the other mare’s almost sullen demeanour. At first she stood with rigid, predatory form, skull lowered and ears reclined unpleasantly, but it seemed that the white flag Zahra offered, was more or less better received. The pained woman inched forward slowly, warily, noting the body language of her company with measure and skill, and as she did, the other too began to step closer. The threatening stance of the stranger began to melt away. First, it was noted that her coloured skull lifted and marbled ivories were sheathed too (thankfully)—there was no masking the savageness of their intent, even though the rain; perhaps the outline of dim-hued ears pricked forward too. As murky wet wings across the way subsided, settling at last against the slender curve of the nearing frame, Zahra too let her fall further and shuffled the length of the feathers until they were resting once more, comfortably at her sides. When it seemed like their proximity could better harbour a conversation, both horses paused their stride, and sooty twins craned forward to received the single word gestured by this foul-natured acquaintance—everyone had off days, right? “I’m Zahra…” she offered lightly, making a perceivable effort to not let the mood of the other horse sour her own intentions. “Does something trouble you?” Allowing her eyes to trace the coloured figure of the other briefly, the golden-bellied healer could find no suggestion of injury. Perhaps it was simply the effect of the wretched weather and never-ending rain—Zahra too felt the sting of moodiness too, occasionally these days. The Rift was far less hospitable than old Helovia. @Ahlora |