The Portal
11-25-2017, 07:34 PM
Impossibly, his legs stir and move. He walks - jagged, broken steps - but he manages to cover the distance required to meet the hollowed out tree in the forest. Taivas offers no words of encouragement, no reinforcement for his efforts, just quiet companionship and warm flesh as they travel down the path toward his temporary refuge.
The boy does not speak either, likely exhausted from his flight from... well, somewhere wet, on top of the massive undertaking to push frozen limbs and muscles through the winter chill. His awareness slips, but his body keeps moving, so Taivas makes no attempt to pull him back into reality until they have arrived.
His return to the world is slow, life seeping back into his face one small portion at a time, with attention pooling in his eyes gradually. Then, the bright glimmer of recognition dawns on them, and he stumbles forward. Suddenly, the rush and hurry is pushing his form into action, and the shaman knows all too well the struggle he has now. Relief is so close with shelter before his eyes, and this leg of the trip will be the most difficult to overcome but also the most satisfying.
When he collapses to the floor, Taivas becomes aware of herself once more. The exhaustion of summoning spirits in this unforgiving realm blindsides her for a moment, never before feeling tired after calling upon them to heal the wounded. The wet of the boy which had covered her side is now painfully sharp as her body heat escapes into the ravenous air of the Rift. For a moment, she stands beside the quiet pile of flesh and feather on the floor, watching his breathing carefully in the dim light of her pelt, catching her breath. He seems to cease shivering, but whether this is due to being too cold or finally warming up she cannot tell.
She has never been an optimist, so she leans on the side of hypothermia.
There is no time to be tired yet, so her dark eyes sweep the floor. Carefully, she begins to drag small rocks toward the entrance of the great trunk, forming a barrier between the dried refuse on the ground and the wet snow outside; she makes a circle to house fire, if she can manage it. Quickly, she gathers twigs - comically like a dog within her mouth, and sets them within their containment.
Pausing, her eyes close, and the girl tries to remember the knowledge imparted from the Elders on fire. Fire was an important resource in her home, and few were ever granted companionship with the element. Her mother and brother were a few lucky wielders, but others had to rely upon the earth to provide such a significant source of warmth and purity. While fire could be harmful and violent, it could clear water; it could renew the soul; it could give life.
Look for something akin to dull obsidian, child. When brought together with enough speed and force, they form sparks.
Eyes open and return to their search of the cavern, seeking out the rocks piled among the leaves, the twigs, the dirt. Flecked and pale stones seem to be common, but not what she needs. Then, finally, her eyes settle on a darker, smooth stone. Relief touches her face lightly as she picks it up in her mouth, walking it back over to the small pit before dropping it unceremoniously onto the barrier rocks below.
Nothing happens.
Sheepishly, she glances toward the boy on the floor, still wet. Still cold. Still slowly slipping away.
Picking back up the stone, she tosses it with more force downward.
Still nothing.
She needs more power.
Calmly, though inwardly growing more frustrated with each passing moment, she picks up the stone carefully. Walking out of the cavern, stone in tow, Taivas lifts into the air, hovering outside the entrance (hooves possibly visible from within the great trunk), before forcibly tossing the stone toward the pit as hard as she can manage.
Sparks.
Smoke.
Fire.
Quickly landing on the snow, she steps over the small pit and gently fans the small tongue of flame with her wing. Gently, she coos and encourages the darling little fire to grow, picking up more twigs and dried leaves to pile atop it. Pride swells in the girls chest, and shyly she looks over at the boy on the floor.
"I did it," she breathes out to him, tones of wonderment and disbelief in her voice. "I made fire." A smile, once again small, forms on her lips and barely touches her eyes. Inwardly, she is swirling with joy and relief, but outwardly she can only manage this.
She begins to notice how rapidly her heart had been pounding. How fast her breath had been. The urgency with which she acted to start the fire. Then, it slows; the weariness returns. The sensation of fatigue fills her muscles. Walking quietly back toward her companion, she lowers her body close to the wall in front of the soaked pegasus, first to her knees before gracefully folding her wings about her to lay down fully.
Her eyes are dark and serious now, able to scan his figure better in the orange light of the fire than she had in the light from her own luminous coat. His wounds are healed, which she notes with satisfaction. Now, he just needs to dry and warm by the fire. Taivas turns her attention toward the happily dancing flame. How strange the element looks, so warm and joyous, amid the eerie and haunted feeling of the rest of the forest. Within this hollowed out tree, she almost feels like she is back home.
""
The boy does not speak either, likely exhausted from his flight from... well, somewhere wet, on top of the massive undertaking to push frozen limbs and muscles through the winter chill. His awareness slips, but his body keeps moving, so Taivas makes no attempt to pull him back into reality until they have arrived.
His return to the world is slow, life seeping back into his face one small portion at a time, with attention pooling in his eyes gradually. Then, the bright glimmer of recognition dawns on them, and he stumbles forward. Suddenly, the rush and hurry is pushing his form into action, and the shaman knows all too well the struggle he has now. Relief is so close with shelter before his eyes, and this leg of the trip will be the most difficult to overcome but also the most satisfying.
When he collapses to the floor, Taivas becomes aware of herself once more. The exhaustion of summoning spirits in this unforgiving realm blindsides her for a moment, never before feeling tired after calling upon them to heal the wounded. The wet of the boy which had covered her side is now painfully sharp as her body heat escapes into the ravenous air of the Rift. For a moment, she stands beside the quiet pile of flesh and feather on the floor, watching his breathing carefully in the dim light of her pelt, catching her breath. He seems to cease shivering, but whether this is due to being too cold or finally warming up she cannot tell.
She has never been an optimist, so she leans on the side of hypothermia.
There is no time to be tired yet, so her dark eyes sweep the floor. Carefully, she begins to drag small rocks toward the entrance of the great trunk, forming a barrier between the dried refuse on the ground and the wet snow outside; she makes a circle to house fire, if she can manage it. Quickly, she gathers twigs - comically like a dog within her mouth, and sets them within their containment.
Pausing, her eyes close, and the girl tries to remember the knowledge imparted from the Elders on fire. Fire was an important resource in her home, and few were ever granted companionship with the element. Her mother and brother were a few lucky wielders, but others had to rely upon the earth to provide such a significant source of warmth and purity. While fire could be harmful and violent, it could clear water; it could renew the soul; it could give life.
Look for something akin to dull obsidian, child. When brought together with enough speed and force, they form sparks.
Eyes open and return to their search of the cavern, seeking out the rocks piled among the leaves, the twigs, the dirt. Flecked and pale stones seem to be common, but not what she needs. Then, finally, her eyes settle on a darker, smooth stone. Relief touches her face lightly as she picks it up in her mouth, walking it back over to the small pit before dropping it unceremoniously onto the barrier rocks below.
Nothing happens.
Sheepishly, she glances toward the boy on the floor, still wet. Still cold. Still slowly slipping away.
Picking back up the stone, she tosses it with more force downward.
Still nothing.
She needs more power.
Calmly, though inwardly growing more frustrated with each passing moment, she picks up the stone carefully. Walking out of the cavern, stone in tow, Taivas lifts into the air, hovering outside the entrance (hooves possibly visible from within the great trunk), before forcibly tossing the stone toward the pit as hard as she can manage.
Sparks.
Smoke.
Fire.
Quickly landing on the snow, she steps over the small pit and gently fans the small tongue of flame with her wing. Gently, she coos and encourages the darling little fire to grow, picking up more twigs and dried leaves to pile atop it. Pride swells in the girls chest, and shyly she looks over at the boy on the floor.
"I did it," she breathes out to him, tones of wonderment and disbelief in her voice. "I made fire." A smile, once again small, forms on her lips and barely touches her eyes. Inwardly, she is swirling with joy and relief, but outwardly she can only manage this.
She begins to notice how rapidly her heart had been pounding. How fast her breath had been. The urgency with which she acted to start the fire. Then, it slows; the weariness returns. The sensation of fatigue fills her muscles. Walking quietly back toward her companion, she lowers her body close to the wall in front of the soaked pegasus, first to her knees before gracefully folding her wings about her to lay down fully.
Her eyes are dark and serious now, able to scan his figure better in the orange light of the fire than she had in the light from her own luminous coat. His wounds are healed, which she notes with satisfaction. Now, he just needs to dry and warm by the fire. Taivas turns her attention toward the happily dancing flame. How strange the element looks, so warm and joyous, amid the eerie and haunted feeling of the rest of the forest. Within this hollowed out tree, she almost feels like she is back home.
""
So seize the day 'Cause you have come so far
Watched a million frowns turn into smiles
Lost all track of time Felt the energy of a million stars
You'll feel love again after the rain
Watched a million frowns turn into smiles
Lost all track of time Felt the energy of a million stars
You'll feel love again after the rain
Taivas
[ ooc - I was thinking that! My characters always seem to be saving yours from something. xD ]
