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Home » Search » Roster » Whitepages » Records » FAQ » Guidebook
Pretty Little Things
Trial Ultima 
Eira
Currently championing: Reszo
#6
Eira...

As the resonating sound of scattering shell and stone began to wane, so too did the deafening drum of Eira’s heartbeat begin to soften. Roscorro lifted in a quite breathtaking blur of ruffled feather and swirling hair, and though her dismal gaze swam across the murky hue of the stone to avoid the touch of his gentle eyes, her ears lifted quickly to receive the worry laced words. Quietly, breast twisted by the hand of guilt, she began to slowly nod in response, for though her pride ached terribly (and the persistent rash tarnishing her hide throbbed), no true harm had come to her during the clumsy, destructive fall.

Then, upon the small, invisible bump which had formed in recent weeks beneath the furry skin upon her forehead, Eira felt the warm of his touch. Within seconds a strange warmth was spilling through her veins. She remembered well the delicious, soothing affect of her mother’s milk when she’d been younger, and as his hot breath washed over her face, the feeling altogether reminded her instantly of her. As the welcome sensation flowed through her, still more curious was the alter affect: her worry seemed to weaken, the adrenaline in her blood to subside, and even the biting sting of the exposed nerves upon her body began to ease.

Shy blue eyes lifted at last.

The beast’s enormous head drifted backwards and she picked the weight of fatigue as it etched a weathered pattern through his features. He spoke softly in the rumbling, masculine tone and indicated that the suppression of her distress was indeed the result of power within him. Surprised, Eira examined him, following the woollen-like contours of his burly frame for suggestion that something unorthodox lurked within him; something that she might have missed as they’d walked beneath a twilight sky in search of lost kin. When Roscorro went on to mention trials, her small face skewed a little to the side. “What do you mean?”

Though she understood the connection between the voice which had entered her thoughts, the rash and the lightning, the small filly had never been educated about their meaning or advantage.


He felt the exhaustion from his work take hold as the heat ate away at the pain and irritation the rash had caused. It also began to suck away her great distress as it sought to correct her emotional injury as well. "I cannot stop the rash completely." He said when he finally pulled away. His body weary from the magical strain, though he took care not to show it in his voice. "But hopefully my magic will hold it at bay for a time. Are you in a trial right now?" Or was the rift just being particularly cruel to this innocent child? 

"I am a book of snow,
a spacious hand, an open meadow,
a circle that waits,
I belong to the earth and its winter."

- Pablo Neruda, Winter Garden


Messages In This Thread
Pretty Little Things - by Roscorro - 03-16-2018, 08:55 PM
RE: Pretty Little Things - by Eira - 03-22-2018, 11:29 PM
RE: Pretty Little Things - by Roscorro - 03-24-2018, 06:28 PM
RE: Pretty Little Things - by Eira - 03-29-2018, 07:05 PM
RE: Pretty Little Things - by Roscorro - 04-15-2018, 11:09 PM
RE: Pretty Little Things - by Eira - 04-16-2018, 12:06 AM
RE: Pretty Little Things - by Roscorro - 04-16-2018, 12:51 AM
RE: Pretty Little Things - by Eira - 04-16-2018, 02:18 AM