This forum uses cookies
This forum makes use of cookies to store your login information if you are registered, and your last visit if you are not. Cookies are small text documents stored on your computer; the cookies set by this forum can only be used on this website and pose no security risk. Cookies on this forum also track the specific topics you have read and when you last read them. Please confirm whether you accept or reject these cookies being set.

A cookie will be stored in your browser regardless of choice to prevent you being asked this question again. You will be able to change your cookie settings at any time using the link in the footer.

Hello There, Guest!

| Register
Home » Search » Roster » Whitepages » Records » FAQ » Guidebook

A Flame in the Dark
RP Wanted The Portal 
Galahad
#1
 
The animals chirp and hum a hymn of night, and the smoke of the land curls like moving shadows around the snow laden trees. It was a calm night in the small corner, but it wouldn’t be for long. The change, or rather cause of the change, was unceremoniously dumped against the roots of an old tree. The being slumps and rolls down, sliding in the snow to the ground. It rests there a moment, and the strange world waits, watching. The creature was of strong unicorn blood, its twin white horns curving above its head. The rest of the body though was not seemingly as strong. Lean at best, and still growing, near two years old it still held the gangly body of youth. It was painted in contrast to the snow a pale gold, warmed at its tips in a dusty rose. 
 
He’d been in a forest….a pine forest…the blizzard had been sudden. He’d searched for his sire…the golden Laurelin, Thranduil, but there hadn’t been time. (Had he been caught in it too?) The roar in his ears of the storm had just grown and grown as he raced the wind itself….and now he was here. Where was here?
 
The pale creature’s eyes open at last, their icy blue gaze trying its best to pierce the shadows. The darkness could not hide the familiar twisting trees, and bright neon purples and greens. With the realization the youth groans. Here. Again. “Good to see you haven’t gotten creepier at least,” He was the gold’s son after all.
 
Rolling upright the young buck moves to stand. Under the taunt skin though some ribs showed, so did the moving sinews of muscles. Youth in the form of a slight awkwardness marks his movements. Upon standing he shakes his whole body out. At his withers, just below his mane, fans several feathers licked with flame. Their white quills flex with the creature, before the small whisps of lighted flame soothe back down. The same is bunched at his tail dock. The last source of light and warmth comes from his head, upon his horns. Clasped their two bones rest, etched with runes, and atop a point of each, a small flame stands alight. The cuffs were his….the feathers were a curse.  So it can be excused that he lets his shoulders sag in slight defeat, as he looks upon the snow graced world he finds himself, because the curse came from the very land he found himself in.  
 
Yes, he’d been here before…though besides his pale gold coat and flame brandished shoulders, he’d be unrecognizable. The colt who’d landed here long ago had been a scared, innocent youth. (With a mother….a brother…gods…it was all coming back to him). Now stood a young stallion, assured (mostly), wizened (or being so), strong, and with a touch of regality pride lends. Two years on the path with his father had not been spend idly. Of course, he was also not his father. The shadows never did feel at home to him. For though he was no longer a babe, he was also still a youth, struggling to decide which mantle of destiny to take up. Not that in the face of shadow and night he would admit it. So in the end this at least was a different flame than had landed here before. Or so he was trying to assure himself as the shadows loomed large. Snorting and stomping a hoof in the snow the youth steadies his resolve. Light Spanish head rises up to the woods, looking finally to see if any of the shadows in the night, the supposed monsters were real. He was no longer scared of the dark for he was a flame. 
 
OOC ::  Hello all! I'm a bit of a wayward Helovian come back....so Galahad here has actually been here before. Please though come say hello! Also...I tend to write novels...so please ignore the length, never a need to match it. =]
"speech"
---
credits



OOC: Not sure if he was here before if he needs to be rolled again? But just to ensure, here's his rap sheet.

Magic:
Transformation: Can transform into a fire Phoenix. Feathers can burn upon will.

Items:
Vanity: Gold cloth, sheer and glowing with stardust; clips with circular, swirl-engraved pin.
Defensive: Armor from Helovian Fire monster made with hide/bones/teeth with leg guards. Collapses to horn cuffs at will and can ignite. 

Mutations: He gained a mutation from his transfer, for a small collection of feathers at his withers and haunches, lighted with flame.
Rexanna
#2
rexanna
I had a dream you were two towns from me —
There was a part of her that wanted to go toward the Portal, to see if there was a way to escape and bring Kiada with, if she could manage to convince the fiery child to leave with her. There was another problem with the idea, however. Tembovu and Kianzo were still somewhere around here, unless they had left too. Regardless, she had woken up with the strong intention of finding a rip or a tear within the Portal that would place her somewhere else. Her eyes were bright and clear for the first time, though the orb of light she had got during the festival had vanished and instead been replaced with the paint splattered on her hindquarters by Ashamin. It now glowed intermittently. She missed the little ball of light, the way it warded off the darkness Now she was alone, again, with only Marembo to keep her company.

The polecat was curled up on her withers, under her mane that had grown long and dark, reaching well below her shoulders. The scar from Calstron dark in contrast despite her long pale coat as it had grown out due to the immense chill of winter. She still bore her trinkets, her magic boiling beneath her skin ready to be released at any target that seemed to come toward her with malicious intent. Perhaps she was a bit on edge, her time in the Rift hadn’t been great. Her children, aside from one, had all but vanished without a trace. And even the one she did see more often, she still didn’t know where they had gone. Sighing quietly through her nose, she squinted against the brazen storm she approached. Her head lowered toward her chest to try and get the most heat combined to not freeze to death in her excursion.

But as she neared the Portal, finding her way through the trees despite how difficult it was to even see them, she picked up her speed until a glinting color captured her vision. It wasn’t dark and drab like everything else was here – no, it was colorful, bright despite the light swallowing up the world around them. And for a moment, her heart stopped as she took a closer look. Of course, the blizzard would have made it difficult to see anything clear – but she knew the coloring, she knew the similar markings, and immediately her mind went to the Laurelin. What she didn’t know just yet, was that it was Galahad and not Thranduil. Instead, her mind took her back to the moments shared in a cave of secrets told and kept, and her persistence in making sure that the man who had inadvertently saved her life had received payment from Rexanna doing the same.

Her course changed, turning to where she began to barrel toward the figure, her throat tight and raw against the cold air. Her lips parted in the attempt to speak, to say his name aloud, yet when she arrived she found her lips snapping shut, the Thran- on the tip of her tongue dying as she spotted a creature that looked remarkably like him, but different. Younger, lean, tired. Snow flurried around her as she stopped, her icy eyes staring toward the stranger she hadn’t met but was certain she heard of. His name refused to come to her mind, as she struggled to remember what Thranduil had said that day in the Rainforest Cliffs. Two children with Hotaru. The time sounded right for the age of this young man before her, but she’d be lying if she said her heart didn’t drop when it wasn’t in fact the Laurelin.

Oh… Hello.” She began, her voice light and a bit raw. “Sorry, you look like someone I know.” She admitted a bit sheepishly, apologizing for her staring as she barreled in through the trees. “It’s been a long time.” It had been at least a year since she last saw Thranduil, perhaps longer. Her eyes lifted to gaze upon the stranger, curious to know what he might say or do. She prayed to any gods listening that both he and Hotaru were okay, wherever they were.

"Talk."
— got to sleep,
spent the whole night running.
image credits


@Galahad :D


AND HERE YOU ARE, LIVING, DESPITE IT ALL
Galahad
#3
 
 Even in the hum of night and wind he heard the crash of another through the snow. Living with a stallion who can walk near slight heightens your sense after a while. Feathers at his shoulders rise and tremble slightly, but his blue eyes remain hard as ice as they turn to sound. Sometimes he had found friend in this world, but more often he’d found foe. So when the mare came into view, she found the pale gold at attention.

Body seized up, though he tried to relax it. ’You always give yourself away boy-‘ It nagged in his head. Yet he did not know this strange mare, though she was certainly beautiful, there was always daggers under pretty skirts. Her gold trappings and gold dusting stood out among the doom and golom…and were familiar. One hark trailed back gives away his venture fleeting thought. Where was his Da? The two had long since kept separate quarters, but they still met often and sparred or practiced. There wasn’t much left to learn….but the company…well even when he was being insulted the colt had found a way to laugh. He hoped-

Her jolted reply brings him fully back, and both harks and feathers now fold down, but his high crowned head does not lower with ease. Perhaps his father had his body fully at command, but the colt did not. She stumbles, hesitates- her words an exhale. It was light and graceful in its fall, but it was a fall. He may not have the Laurelin’s full skill, but as he would continue no doubt to prove, he’d certainly grown. Head tilts slightly, ice hardened eyes melting slightly. All she gets in return for her introductions of sorts was a nod, short, and curt.

Then the reason for her shift is clear. She thought he was someone else. One hark rises back up at the suggestion and the tension built in his spine eased slightly. He wondered who…His heart pinged for his brother, maybe father (not his mother sadly, for he was not rosen enough- maybe she knew though?), yet he must move on. She’d stopped talking. Her apology, though unnecessary for him, was over and it was his turn.

He should say something….something…like…hello? “Oh.” Well at least they were rolling down the same road. “No, I don’t believe we’ve met.” It was low and soft, but spoken with similar lows as hers, as an apology. The tilted head straightens, but does not rise fully back up, he managed to keep it slightly cast at ease. “I’m Galahad.” He says as he plays a smile on his lips, not twisted or wicked, but sincere. “At your service.” Some traditions are hard not continue.

“Though I’ve just arrived, so not much service, I suppose.” He lets it roll lighter. He may not enjoy returning to this god for saken dark wet now apparently frozen spit of land, but there’s no reason to a joint pity party. So the pale gold chuckles softly, trying to pull the mare up from whatever low she was in. Perhaps he’d pull himself up in the process. He needed to, especially as his mind began to whirl. The questions which had started with his father’s location were now beginning to spiral into an endless list, and it seemed as overwhelming as the darkness surrounding him.

 
OOC ::  Lovely <33 Also, still open to all!
"speech"
---
credits


@Rexanna
Rixen the Vine King
#4
RIXEN
i have late night conversations with the moon;

It was as dark a day as any, at least in this particular neck of the woods. But I had grown accustomed to hardly being able to see where to place each hoof in front of me, and thus the lack of sunlight did not bother me in the least. Every time I returned to the Portal, I met someone knew. So it’d hardly be a surprise if the same thing happened this time. Perhaps it was the reason that I’d even bothered to come here at all, or was it simply by chance that I happened to be wandering through the very place where all newcomers arrived in the Rift, wide-eyed and wondering where they were. Fortunately, I could be the one to answer their questions. I didn’t mind doing so, because I knew what it felt like to come here for the first time, lost and scared and alone. It would’ve been nice to have someone to talk to then. Seeing where I was now, though, with a herd of my own, a place to belong, everything seemed to have worked out. From the beginning, finding, or in this case forging, a herd was the goal. Wasn’t it?

Twigs on the forest floor crackled beneath my weight as I moved along. Each step was a slow, swinging, fluid movement, carrying me from one part of the Portal to the next. My head bobbed steadily with each movement. It was held high, on alert, unburdened by the mass of deer-like antlers perched on top. They were like small trees, the same color of brown as oak bark, adorned with vines, dressed up as if there was somewhere important they had to be. They always appeared that way, though, and today I wasn’t exactly headed anyplace special. The Portal didn’t exactly fit that category in my books. However, I did take a liking to meeting new horses there when the opportunity presented itself. I wondered if one would leap out today, from the shadows, or wherever it might be hiding. 

Sure enough, there were the sounds of voices. They were faint, almost whispers, but they still managed to reach my ears, which swiveled to and fro at their gentle touch. At first, it was difficult to pinpoint the direction where the voices were coming from. They seemed to bounce off of the trees in every direction, surrounding me. They were everywhere, and nowhere, all at once. Frowning slightly, I strained to listen, not for words, but rather for location. Perhaps they originated someplace to my right, and so that was the way my limber body swung, floating forward between the tangled branches and glowing flora as effortlessly as a ghost. The ground was not beneath me, holding me up, permitting my every movement forward. 

Indeed, the voices grew louder as I travelled along. It wasn’t long before I came to a halt, a short distance away from what appeared to be not one, but two horses standing in the dim light. I was still mostly covered by the shadowy foliage, enough that it would be difficult to see me unless one sought to do so. Peering through the branches, it was observable that they were both mostly golden in color, with light colored locks, and gleaming blue eyes. From what I could tell, that was about where the similarities ended. They were quite different in structure, height, and in age. It was difficult to discern how familiar the two with one another. The only bit of concrete information I latched onto were the last words spoken by the colt: he was new here. No surprise, of course. 

So without giving the matter much more thought, I slipped out from the gloom to stand before them. Perhaps they were already aware of my presence, or maybe my sudden appearance had caught them off guard. I’d soon find out. Taking care to not interrupt their conversation, for I was a creature of manners, I waited until there was a pause before offering my greeting. "Hello." It was a single word - one that reached their ears in the form of a voice that was warm, friendly, while my verdant gaze shifted lingeringly between the strangers.

"Talk."

he tells me about the sun
and I tell him about you.


img



@Galahad @Rexanna Have a Rixen! -shoves him forward-
{Image: untitled_drawing_by_indelyde-dceus9t.png}
Rexanna
#5
rexanna
I had a dream you were two towns from me —
Quietly, an uttered “oh” reaches the golden woman’s ears. For a moment, she finds herself frowning at the implication, anxiety pooling in her stomach that she might’ve just ruined the colts day by mistaking him for someone else. But he continues on, in a sort of apologetic way that she had first started. “I don’t believe we have.” Rexanna admitted, offering him a small apologetic smile and slight dip of her head. Yet, before she can ask about it, her curiosity getting the best of her at the way he was a near image of Thranduil yet not. They still sported that similar leaf shape on their foreheads, but where Thranduil’s dark stripes along his hindquarters were, this boy carried them in a faint white hue – a brilliant addition to the gold. His horns were light in comparison, and no lions tail either.

But then he announced his name, and Rexanna’s memories began to resurface, of her and Thranduil running into one another in the Rainforest Cliffs, asking him about how he and his children faired. “Casca her mind thought at first, then “Galahad” as it fell into place. A missing puzzle piece of information that had finally found its place. He offered her a smile, unlike the hidden ones that Thranduil had often given, and announced he was at her service then elaborated. A soft grin cascaded over her lips before she inclined her head further. “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but are you Thranduil’s son?” She paused, allowing him to answer should he wish to. “Your name rings a bell and I hope I have it right. I’m Rexanna.” She added in, remembering how Thranduil and Hotaru had been hoping for children the last she had spoken to Hotaru. Her heart closed off from the events of the Portal, where so many things went wrong.

Soon, they weren’t alone. Another creature approached, taller than she but with a soft grace about him. There was something likeable there, a soft and serene greeting that harbored no ill will that Rexanna appreciated. Her pale head shifted toward him, her markings ink black against her face but eerily similar to Kiada if Rixen chose to look long enough. “Oh, hello.” She offered him kindly, uncertain of what kind of motive he might have though she supposed it were possible that he was simply there for a stroll to greet anyone passing through. While Rexanna wasn’t as new as Galahad, she was new in comparison to Kiada, having only seen a few parts of the world in her excursions. Mostly her and Marembo had kept to a certain spot, refraining from leaving if possible. But she slowly realized that Kiada had no idea where that was.

Shaking her head slightly, she moved slightly to allow more room for Rixen should he wish to come closer, uncertain of what else to do. Her familiarity with other equines had increasingly diminished for the months she remained a recluse.

"Talk."
— got to sleep,
spent the whole night running.
image credits


@Galahad @Rixen :D


AND HERE YOU ARE, LIVING, DESPITE IT ALL
Galahad
#6
 
It wasn’t exactly how first meetings usually went. Yet, as the ice blue eyes melt into those of sea, he feels some sort of connection to the older mare. For one, it seemed she was just as slightly awkward as he, but because of such it fit. The proof of which was sealed when she finally looked up (from her examinations of him he noticed) and smiled at his attempt to smooth over the rather rough start. It gave the youth’s heart, so far feeling dragged through the mud on the second Portal trip of his life, a lift. There were so many comparisons to make to his father, but this one is most important. The pale gold found his mood greatly lifted to see his skill of a gilded tongue raise the mare’s spirit.

Then, she had to go, and hit a nail on the head….in the coffin. –One- of Thranduil’s sons. The youth could not hide a swallow. All the swirling questions, worries, concerns, and anxieties he’d been successfully stifling since he fell from that hell hole now came to the surface. It took every bit of skill he had to keep the small smile on his face and his tone lightened. “Yes, I am.” But then…it came in a rush of a realization. She…knew him. From before? Maybe even while he was Lord of the North…think of all the stories and tales and – “Do you know him?” Have you seen him….Do you know my mother…brother…so many unanswered questions. He covers any stumble he may have made with: “Never met me but know my name, and they say fame is hard to come by.” The grin returns. At least now, there was some excitement to mingle in all his thoughts, like milk in bitter black coffee.

The coffee date was soon interrupted, perhaps, the pale gold thought, for the better. The topic had been dangerously pushing past the skill set of ‘holding it together’ that he had. Though the colt was proud of himself, he thought he kept it rather concealed. The newcomer though, grabs his attention quickly. His horned head rises again and the feathers on his back answer in the same slightly. The creature’s beauty too stood out from the gloom of the forest beyond. With a proud head of knarled antlers, and a bold strip over blue and white he looked exotic. The pale gold youth turned to face him, sea eyes freezing over slightly again for he once more it was a test of friend or foe.

The question was put to rest as the creature speaks. The youth’s tail swishes against his hock, and his was mildly aware of the cold of the snow. The gold mare, Rexanna, he corrects, returns the greeting. Oh- it was his turn. Well, here he goes again,- “Greetings.” He dips his head to solidify it, and his own tone matches the others in friendliness and warmth. He supposed there was enough cold here, without them adding to it, though he did note (with some concern –as he stored the thought away for later) Rexanna move away.

What now…oh, the name- “I’m Galahad.” The youth states once more for their new comer. He looks to the gold mare, but does not force her into revealing her name. It was sudden and unbidden, but the whole youth’s body gives a shivering shake. Harks fall back. It was glad his old man wasn’t here. With all this friend making, and body language giving him away he’d catch hell for sure. A month of lessons, from the basics. He could almost groan…but instead he speaks an excuse. “Sorry, I’m not used to the cold.” You would think have feathers on his back (and being part phoenix) such trivial things would not be a problem. Maybe it was a portal side effect…He supposed no one made enough of a habit of travelling through them to find out. Perhaps he’s the only one to have done it twice…he could write a book, sell millions, and never have to travel through a portal again. Ah, but then he wouldn’t be here, making friends. A proposition, he was strangely warming up to.


 
OOC ::  I'm loving this- he's so happy to be social.
"speech"
---
credits


@Rexanna @Rixen
Rixen the Vine King
#7
RIXEN
i have late night conversations with the moon;

Neither of the strangers appeared terribly surprised by my rather unexpected appearance. They didn’t jump, or even flinch a little bit, like I might have expected them to. Not that I was a particularly terrifying creature. But when someone, or something, suddenly appeared from the darkness, you never knew what their intentions were. The Rift was too dangerous a place to assume that every stranger wanted to be friends. Yet the two unicorns merely swiveled their heads in my direction, blinking, probably trying to decide that to make of me. The golden mare moved over a few steps, making room for me to stand comfortably before them. As if accepting her invitation, my tiger-striped frame stepped further out of the shadow and into the cold light, where they could hopefully get a better look at me and see that I meant them no harm.   

I was close enough now, and the dim light struck the woman’s face just right, that the black lines that traced the length of her face, from her eye all the way down to her nostrils, were noticeable. Additional charcoal accents followed the curve of her jaw, four widely-curved claws jutting upward to form a unique marking. There was this vague sense of familiarity that washed over me as I studied her features. Like she was someone I knew, but whose name I couldn’t quite place. It was in the color of her coat, the markings on her face, even the way she stood there, looking at me. Except the funny part was, I was one hundred percent certain that I’d never seen this mare before. No name came to mind when I tried to think of one that might fit her. It couldn't be right that she was familiar, like someone half-remembered. But the ache of familiarity was so powerful, so difficult to ignore, that I couldn’t help but second-guess those simple facts. Both brows furrowed slightly beneath the thick curtain of my forelock. 

Perhaps she resembled someone I knew. Wait a moment… was it- could it be- Kiada? Comparing this stranger to my mental image of Kiada’s appearance, they looked strikingly alike. I’d spent enough time with the gilded mare to know. And it wasn’t only their colors that were the same. This mare wore an identical marking on her face, or at least one that resembled Kiada’s closely. It was an intricacy impossible to miss, one of the things about the mare that made her stand apart from the crowd. I’d never seen anything similar anyone else. Until now. That meant the real question was how they were related, if in fact they were, and being without the most basic knowledge of this mare's name, it was far too soon to begin asking prying questions that might scare her off. They would have to wait. Perhaps a few moments, or maybe even longer than that, depending what direction the conversation went. 

Setting all contemplation aside, my body turned toward the younger of the two unicorns. He'd been watching me; his blue stare was hard, and even though it harbored no hate, the look he gave made it impossible to predict what was happening beneath the icy surface, what his impression of me was. This was probably intentional, a survival tactic of sorts. If it wasn’t clear enough already by my demeanor, the relaxed shoulders, slightly lowered head, swishing tail, he would soon learn that I was not here to bring either of them harm. When the sound of my voice reached his ears, however, he seemed to lower his guard. Neither of the strangers hesitated to return my greeting, which was received as a good sign. They seemed friendly enough, as most of the worry about me had quickly worn away like a passing breath. I offered the child a polite nod, readily returning his gesture, as I had always been taught. He stated his name before I could ask what it was: Galahad. I wondered where he’d arrived here from. Everyone came from somewhere. It was impossible to arrive without leaving. 

"That’s quite alright. From what I’ve experienced, the temperatures here gravitate toward the extreme side. The adjustment can be difficult at first, but everyone gets used to them after a while." I paused to clear my throat, in preparation for the more formal introduction. It dawned on me that I’d actually grown used to speaking of the Rift like the place was an old friend. "Welcome to the Rift. I just so happened to hear that you’ve just arrived." I smiled, without falter. Though the upturning of my lips happened almost subconsciously, the appearance was not at all forced. 

What was the mare’s name, though? She hadn’t mentioned it yet. Why did it matter? Whatever she said wasn’t going to ring a bell. Slowly, deliberately, I shifted my gaze away from Galahad and toward the mare. My emerald eyes were calm, placid, thoughtful, giving nothing away that I did not yet wish to reveal. "I don’t believe I have seen you around here before. Are you new as well?" I looked at her inquiringly, tilting my head slightly. I didn’t say that I thought she looked like someone I knew. Not yet. 

Despite speaking addressing them both rather gently, my voice echoed throughout the small clearing. "It would probably be helpful if I told you my name. I’m Rixen." I forgot to add on the second part, my official title. It was hard to remember, because it wasn’t how I thought of myself. Someone who held a title, possessed some degree of authority. What did it matter, though, whether I said it or not? The Vine King was no different from the rest. 

"Talk."

he tells me about the sun
and I tell him about you.


img


@Galahad @Rexanna <3
{Image: untitled_drawing_by_indelyde-dceus9t.png}
Rexanna
#8
rexanna
I had a dream you were two towns from me —
Confirmation was all Rexanna needed before her smile grew slightly. Pleased to know she had it right and that she hadn’t really ended up making more of a mess of their interaction. Then, a rushed “do you know him?” that caused her lips to lift slightly higher. Bobbing her head, she nodded to him. “I do. I knew your mother as well.” She answered quietly, lifting her head to better view him. He made another comment, a joke of sorts, and Rex laughed along quietly with him. She didn’t want to mention that she had been so excited to learn of Hotaru’s pregnancy, yet the slight amount of jealousy that filled her prior to talking with Hotaru of it.

However, the stranger had come and Rexanna’s attention had turned to him at that point. After Galahad introduced himself, she offered Rixen a smile – similar to how Kiada’s own smiles looked. “I’m Rexanna and this is Marembo.” She offered as an introduction, shifting her head back slightly to motion toward the sleeping bundle of fur tucked tightly in the base of her mane. Then, her head swiveled toward Galahad as he mentioned he wasn’t used to the cold and Rexanna had to agree – though living in the Rift had caused her pelt to grow out thick for this winter. She was far more prepared than she was for the first winter she had endured here. The stranger began to speak at that point though, and Rexanna nodded in agreement. “Very true.” She murmured quietly, offering Rixen a small smile.

Then he asked if she was new and she shook her head slightly. “I came through with the rest of the Helovian’s. Though I mostly arrived with my children, returned back here to find their father and one of my sons, and then they’ve been gone since.” A slight frown crossed her features before she shifted her weight, her gold trinkets along her body clinking with the movement. “I did spot one of my daughters at an event with a giant elephant like place, but I lost her shortly after.” Her voice lowered slightly. Then Rixen introduced himself and she bobbed her head to him briefly. “Do you happen to know if there’s any gathering of horses yet?” Her head tilted with the question. She hadn’t heard of a herd yet, but she was also extremely behind in news.

"Talk."
— got to sleep,
spent the whole night running.
image credits


@Galahad @Rixen :D


AND HERE YOU ARE, LIVING, DESPITE IT ALL
Galahad
#9
 
If the dear pale colt had known just how much was below the service in the relationships of Rexanna and his mother and father he perhaps would have given his reaction a rethink. If he had known how close this mare was to his Da beyond just a ‘I do know him.” (sounding like a yes we saw each other in the forest in passing one day). The closeness. The mutual protection, and at least on his father’s side, the lingering feelings of more. If had known how much of a sisterly bond she felt with his mother. Of the jealousy, the tension. If he had known all these things me might have found something deeper to connect to this gold mare before him. Something he could feel solid in, lean on, as his mind continued to whirl so fast upon what felt like a lonely and high pedestal. But he did not. So was left with seeing her as a connection, but little more.

The introductions continue on, and the pale colt is delighted to see what he thought was an accessory was actually a companion. His father’s stag Haldir had always brought the youth a comfort, and he was glad to see another, even if it wasn’t his. After his shiver the colt, to his credit, does try to regain some control over himself. Perhaps he’d gotten too excited over hearing Rexanna knew of his parents, and let his guard slip. Looking to the blue stripped stag it was clear there was no recognition there, which was fine by the colt, but it meant his conversation with the gold mare would have to wait. Perhaps it was for the best, given how it seemed to carry him away.

The pale child nods in his welcoming, and does not volunteer it was his second venture here. Reining back in meant not becoming the babbling babe. Besides when he had come here before it was the rainy season, and not at all cold. This was still quite new. So he holds his tongue and listens, which, was much more difficult in this company than he wished.

What he learns of the mare was rather interesting. Some pieces of puzzles he stores for later. What he did know though is she’d been here since the coming of Helovians, and knew his mother. If anyone knew if his Ma was close about she would. Yet, he was reluctant to seem like such a lost orphan before others. There was a weakness in the admission, something vulnerable, and the colt was set against it. He’d been such before. A frail lost child, and he wanted never to be again. Or at least, never to let it show. Besides many youths his age were out beginning to conqueror worlds, fighting demons and demanding titles. He would not be left behind (or have any weakness, especially firey ones show).

Flames at his back licked the feathers and given his rising awareness and tension as he brought himself together, swept out more over his back. Their heat threatens to send more shivers down his spine, but the youth holds himself together more now. So instead he nods as the blue stripped gains the name Rixen.

Then Rexanna asks another question, one that interests the young colt greatly. Any gatherings? Herds… His interest was sparked by (for him in his life) the notions rarity. He’d heard enough of the great workings of the Aurora Basin, the might of the legacy of Gaucho and the Throat, and the havens of the mists in World’s Edge, and the seemingly ever doomed Falls. But for the small colt, there had never been such a home in his life. When he was born the Edge had fallen quickly to the Rift and once arriving, the chaos left each creature looking out for itself. There had always only been his family….and now that there wasn’t… The pale colt could not believe how much his heart leapt into his throat to hear the other’s answer.

He manages to speak a shared interest, his tone low and calm, hiding his intense interest. “Yes, are there any herds here to know of?” Then he couldn’t stop himself. “A place to rest would be quite desired.” It gave away too much, promised him to something he might not want or fully understand, but such was his deeper desire to find some solid ground in this world of darkness. He had the pride and courage to stand alone, but he did not want to.


OOC ::
"speech"
---
credits


@Rexanna @Rixen
Rixen the Vine King
#10
RIXEN
i have late night conversations with the moon;

"Pleased to meet you," I replied cheerfully to Rexanna, "Both of you." My verdant gaze followed suit as she turned her head to motion to the polecat that was curled up by her withers. I hadn’t noticed the creature sleeping there in the dim light, until Rexanna had pointed him out. In the land I came from, horses did not have companions. It was an entirely new concept to me, one that had been introduced here. I was not too surprised that she had one, though, after the golden mare proclaimed that she’d come to the Rift from Helovia. Kiada was from Helovia, too. The collection of tiny gears in my head were churning, trying to piece together what all of this meant. Could mean. 

Speaking of relations, the colt, although a similar pale gold in appearance, did not appear to fit into the clue I was beginning to piece together, the picture, albeit still extremely fuzzy, that I was just barely able to envision. Though it would be easy to mistake him and Rexanna for family. But it seemed to me they simply knew each other, and their ties ran no deeper than that. Galahad made no mention of coming from Helovia, yet intuition told me the youngster had. These types, the former Helovians, almost had a particular look about them, if one were experienced enough to take notice of it. What were the chances I was wrong? Slim. Almost everyone I’d met in the Rift had lived in Helovia, knew its lore, its structure, the intricate ins and outs that created and bound up the world. I was one of the few who hadn’t. For me, learning all of these things was still a work in progress, however interested I was. 

"Is that so? I’m sure you can tell that I am not from there myself. But I’ve encountered many others from Helovia. Learned a little bit about the place in the process. It’s a shame, what happened. I was sorry to hear of it." I shook my head slowly, my expression darkening as I remembered the stories Kiada had shared with me in the Green Labyrinth. Bits and pieces were still missing, but I’d heard about the birth of Kisamoa, how the lands were ripped back and forth between worlds, about how Helovia had been destroyed, resulting in many of its inhabitants - those who survived - winding up here. It was a sad story. A perpetual reminder that everything had to come to an end, good or bad. To start new beginnings. Yet it was only these good parts of our lives that we remembered, clung onto, and didn't want to ever end. Even when it was time to finally let go. 

Rexanna shifted slightly, as if she were uncomfortable. Her countenance had momentarily grown darker at the mention of her lost loved ones. At the sharp pang of longing for them to return. I wanted to help her. I knew I could. Rather than expressing my sympathy aloud, my head merely lowered, just enough for the long strands of mane cascading from my crest to droop in the direction of my chin. "I believe I was also there, at the celebration you speak of. Although I don’t recall seeing you." That couldn’t be the reason why she seemed familiar. My gut told me so. Trust me, I’d mulled over the possibility the moment it was mentioned. Rexanna must’ve been older than me. She portrayed the appearance of someone worldly-wise, who’d perhaps been around a bit - she seemed to know how to look after herself. Was she Kiada’s aunt? Her cousin? Her mother? Could Kiada be one of the children she’d referred to?  

She was speaking of a herd now. A gathering of horses, as she phrased it. But these things were more or less the same: safety in numbers. It was dangerous to stay out here at night, even more so in the winter cold. Galahad, who had been listening interestedly, nodding every now and then, chimed in that he, too, sought somewhere to shelter.  

Oh. The thought to mention the herd hadn’t yet crossed my mind. Which was surprising, because whenever I’d returned to the Portal it was usually with the intention of finding stray wanderers and bringing them back to Halyven. It made me no less glad, however, that a herd was what they were looking for. Theirs was a question that I did in fact have the answer to. An odd little grin crossed my lips, "Ah, that’s right. Actually, I do know of one- there is only one. There is a herd, in Halyven. We are recently established, and the Rift’s only herd as far as I know. There are many former Helovians among our ranks." I extended the invitation eloquently, more than happy to offer them a place to stay, and perhaps a home. "You could both return there with me, if you wish. And Rexanna... I think there’s someone important you should see." Was there? Hopefully, but I didn’t know for certain. There was a connection, however small, like two ends of a severed rope waiting to be knotted together again. To be one rope, as they should be. That was all I knew. 

"Talk."

he tells me about the sun
and I tell him about you.


img


@Rexanna @Galahad <3
{Image: untitled_drawing_by_indelyde-dceus9t.png}