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Home » Search » Roster » Whitepages » Records » Guidebook

My only friend was the man in the moon.
Trial Rainforest Cliffs 
Taivas the Hopebringer
#1
Taivas
Quickly, she flies toward the Rainforest Cliffs.  She remembers her mournful song to the stars upon the edge looking out over the water.  She had paid little attention to the forest on her first visit.  Now, she notices the vast expanse of trees, even through the endless onslaught of rain pouring from dark clouds above.  Her best guess on the time is marred by the fact the sun has long since ceased to make an appearance this season.

Drench, indeed.

The slate grey sky matches Taivas's mood, however.  Since the forest of Solanis maliciously took away her connection to the spirits in order to test her aptitude, if that is what you could call it, her mood had been dreary at best.  The missing pulse of the earth filled her heart with an emptiness she had not felt since leaving her home.

Perhaps, the Rift had begun to fill that hole, and now with the heartbeat of the land missing, she felt alone again.  The spirits remained silent; the only friends she could turn to would be the night sky.  However, even that had been long obscured by clouds.  Even the man on the moon, her longest companion, had disappeared suddenly.

So, it is with a heavy heart her hooves meet the loam.

The flowers had not been very detailed in their explanation of tasks.  Taivas had no idea what an Asulli was, but she abhorred the idea of injuring the creature for its feathers.  However, after mulling over the loss of her spirit connection for several days, perhaps weeks, she steeled herself to the inevitable.  She would have to complete the necessary tasks or remain in grave silence indefinitely.

Her dark eyes glimmer in the horridly dark lighting of the rainsoaked forest, looking for anything resembling a creature with plummage.""
moon dust in your lungs
stars in your eyes
you are a child of the cosmos,
a ruler of the skies


[ ooc -- Taivas needs to harvest Asulli feathers for her trial.  <3  Open for anyone. ]
Rift Presence
#2
The forest hums with the chorus of countless, concealed insects, the drum of steady rain, the ever present pulse of magic. Though darkness and mist engulf it, this sleepless wilderness is awake and watching. Altogether, the sound of its heart is soothing and serene, a true compliment to the old groaning timber and bright, thriving fernery.

Moss cloaked stones, nestled beneath puddle or leaf, lie ever waiting for the touch of the ignorant. Small clusters of glowing flowers, sway and bob in the dank depths of their paradise, illuminating softly a labyrinth of trails, which swerve, now, like rippling rivers, hither and thither. Life courses beyond reach of the undiscerning eye. Here trees watch travellers with a new sense of wariness and the gentlest of creatures linger with them, hiding - poachers visit, an endless procession.

He is young, though perhaps not by your standard, surviving the Rift’s cruel cycle of seasons for a good twenty years. But, through recent times, the peaceful Asuuli has grown weary and cold, afflicted by the savagery of creatures now around. Always, though once he basked in the moonlight’s favour, he creeps fearfully beneath shadow, pausing constantly to feel the changing rhythm of his world.
the Rift
image

@Taivas
Eira
#3
Eira...
A herd… nay, family was the word Roscorro had used, one night soon after the momentous meeting in Halyven; though Hope had vanished into the ravaging darkness of that rainy night, thrilling discussion about duties had continued at length, and the small waif had listened with inexhaustible interest, heart pounding to the thrum of excited voices.

Family was a term that Eira had not heard mentioned since she was but a babe beside her Ma, but its weight, the promise in its meaning, had filled the void of yearning within her the same way as warm milk, nurture, or the loving company of her (now lost), brother. The orphan had been lost and alone, for far too long.

Stepping now with this new air of inspired hope and determination about her, she found herself wandering  further afield than the sinister face of The Portal, into the humid shadow rainforest, above the Rift’s southernmost coast. Eira had called the area home for many months and knew a good portion of the trails interwoven throughout it. The soft patter of rain greeted her downy, pricked ears and the familiar flavour of damp rotting litter flooded her sucking nostrils. Lowering her too-large looking skull momentarily, the emaciated blue filly brushed the beading water from her lashes against her knee.

The barbered feathers sagging by her flanks shuffled and shook a little in place.

It was difficult to ascertain the time of the day, the rainforest was cast in deep shadow already and a dreary overcast sky only exacerbated that. Still, the orphan was undeterred as her crooked knees inched deeper through the saturated undergrowth.

As if from nowhere, a sharp, loud volt of electrical light erupted aside her hind leg, startling the stunted creature forward to escape. The hair all over her wasted frame stood on end, and for minutes after, Eira could hear nought but ringing in her ears. It was only as the dim outline of another materialised between the girthy trunks of the ancient trees, that her legs slowed.

Dark blue eyes hesitated and her shoulders flinched rapidly as hot blood and adrenaline coursed wildly, yet, though the potential for company stirred worry through her mind, the yearling let a friendly smile ignite her expression.  
"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

(just wanted to note that Eira's horn hasn't grown in yet despite her profile picture)
Taivas the Hopebringer
#4
Taivas
An impossibly bright streak of light bursts forth from the sky above and disappears somewhere in the forest below.  The shock of the strobe causes Taivas to pause immediately, her eyes looking around for but a moment before the crashing thud of thunder collapses on her body.  The lightning strike flew so closes the shudder of the sky shook her small frame, shaking loose water from the trees above, all splashing uselessly on Taivas's body, but leaving no trace of their path as they slide to the ground.

In the dark, the charm given by the Matriarch glimmers as it works to keep the painted girl dry in the dampest of nights.

Quiet steps draw her attention for a moment, her dark eyes scanning the shadows of the giant trees.  Her own pale glow illuminates a small area around her, causing the ill-lit forest to draw larger shadows pointing outward, like a small piece of the moon that had stumbled down to earth.  She sees a lithe outline of something moving quietly in the distance, and she starts to move in its direction.

Her hooves squelch in the waterlogged loam below, sending droplets cascading into the air despite her careful pace.  "Hello?" she calls out toward the shadow, for the shaman is no hunter.  She has no idea that keeping quiet is advised to keep your query from running the opposite direction of you.  The gentle girl loathed the idea of the creature being prey, for she still held lofty ideas that whatever Asulli she found might wish to give her a feather without the need for violence.

Taivas was an idealist at, perhaps, the most unreasonable of times.

Her thoughts are scattered, though, as the sound of thrumming hooves garners her immediate attention.  Abruptly, a gangly form of a foal bursts through the trees.  The shaman's eyes widen ever-so-slightly from the surprise of the filly's sudden appearance, but otherwise her face remains slack.  The girl looks shaken, and the starry-eyed maiden has a good guess as to why.  The thunder had no doubt shaken the whole forest and sent this poor child to flight.  She is small, painted in the pale blue of early morning, with the tiniest hint of a horn on her forehead.

"Settle down," she says, a soft soothing tone over the patter of rain on leaves.  "It would be unusual for lightning to strike the same place twice."  The meek smile on her lips is meant to be calming, though likely fails in its intent.

Her eyes trail back to where she had seen the shadow before, hoping the creature had not taken flight as soon as the shaman's attention was split.""
moon dust in your lungs
stars in your eyes
you are a child of the cosmos,
a ruler of the skies
Rift Presence
#5
There is a beam of light, so swift and so short that the wary young Asulli pauses his step. His eyes, like amethysts aglow, glance timidly out from beneath the shade of many lashes, peering this way and that, assessing the murky forest's under-realm for further hint that something has happened.

At first, there is nothing.

Just the same soft song of his beloved, leafy home and the gentle pitter-patter of rain.

But then, everything around him falls silent and fear touches his trembling face. He is huge, but huddles down amid dense emerald foliage, for it is the only method of concealment he can think of to deter their notice. It has been successful in times past. His skin is beautiful, pale blue stripes radiating upon his neck and sides like waves which catch the full moon’s delicate hue before they crash upon the shore.

The few luminous feathers growing down the length of his neck shake wildly too. Their long quills are fed directly by the magic coursing through his blood.

He is beautiful. A fragile life...
the Rift
image
» Presence of the Rift «


Eira
#6
Eira...

Remnant fear, swollen crimson vessels, hairline cracks in already brittle composure, lingered on in the whites of otherwise enigmatic, murky-blue eyes; these traced the line of the pastier coloured stranger’s quiet smile, concealing the stew of uncertainty beneath. Cupped, downy ears, flicked forward, honing in on the words and soft voice that slipped by darker, sooty lips, and though a feeble smile touched her own harrowed expression in answer, weakly, for fear fought the peaceable gesture fiercely, her thoughts revealed a rather contradictory sentiment.

“It follows me!” thoughts divulged fretfully, whether or not her calmer company cared or wished to know, and worried tears were welling above the lashed pools beneath her widened gaze.

For many months her skin had crawled beneath the effect of static flow, a curse, unfortunately, the only constant in a world of massive insecurity - there had been a rash too, burning and itchy, but the Rift had reclaimed it in exchange for three tasks. This affliction lingered on, however, and Eira hadn’t been able to figure out the cure. Intermittent volts of lightning struck regularly, aiming their vibrant energy towards the same numb, burning limb - and it wasn’t a sensation her impressionable heart had grown accustomed to.

…the other’s interest seemed vague though.

The waif’s bewildered gaze slackened, momentarily distracted, following the path of the older mare’s focus into the foliage yonder. Though she was keenly perceptive and rather adored nature, she failed to find the source of interest. “What is it?” her gentle mind wondered aloud, prying the other curiously for elucidation; all the while, she stared intently into the shadow-shrouded wilderness.

"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


Your writing is so beautiful ;___;
Taivas the Hopebringer
#7
Taivas
The frantic energy of the filly is the stark opposite of Taivas.  The shaman appears unflappable and even bored, expression slack and eyes dark in the rainy forest.  However, deep in the recesses of her midnight sky eyes, there is concern and compassion.  The warmth provided by the muted expression is just as mild.

Still, her attention is split between two targets, and currently, the desire to have the comforting song of spirits in her soul was stronger than the sympathy provided to a strange filly.  The girl seems unusually apt for her age, though, and catches notice of Taivas's focus after a few moments.

What is it? the filly asks, her eyes scouring the foliage in the same direction the shaman gazed.  Taivas's lips curl into the smallest of frowns, a tiny crease of her lips downward.

"I am not certain," she says, her voice calm and honest.  "Though, I was tasked to find a special feather - an Asulli feather."

Looking toward the ground for a moment, her voice shifts to something more solemn and borderline melancholy.  "The flowers warned that it might be fatal to take it from the creature, so I'm hoping it can be given without harm."  The painted girl's idealistic hope shines through in her statement, starkly out of place within the Rift.  However, she had been unable to shake the way she had been raised at home in the Fields.

Eyes dark eyes notice a faint glow amid the dense leaves a few paces away, and quietly the mare drifts toward them.  Her hooves sink deep into the soaked loam, making her approach anything but silent.  Trying to reveal more details of the figure shrouded in flora and shadow, the shaman squints.  "Hello?" she calls again quietly into the brush, trying not to startle whatever lay beneath.

The possibility of it being a predator never once crosses her mind.""
moon dust in your lungs
stars in your eyes
you are a child of the cosmos,
a ruler of the skies


[ ooc - sorry for the long wait!  @Eira