the world is burning

Själ The only good thing about having lived as a hermit for the past - gods, how long had it been? Not yet a year, surely, and yet the mare was positive that it had been some time since she had stood amongst her follow equines - however long was that she had not been as devastated by Kaos' attacks. She had not seen anyone she cared deeply for destroyed, and so her heart remained carefully hopeful. Her once-dear friend and childhood crush had not been among those she had seen killed (though, to be fair, she had not seen Zékle run into the Portal, either). Neither had she witnessed Nymeria blown to bits. Even the old stallion she'd only just met in the Heart Caves seemed to have either died before the attack or survived it, for his had not been among the bodies that had disintegrated before her eyes. Still, for all that she was not hurt by the many deaths, she was furious about the waste of it all. Stallions, mares, even foals, blown away as though they were no more than leaves in a breeze, never having gotten to live their life. It made her sick. Ansgar, too, was ill, though it was difficult for the mare to discern why. Their bond had been strange of late, with only bits and pieces of Ansgar's near-perfect mind speech making its way into Själ's thoughts. Every now and then, the mare might catch a word, or an emotion, or an image - but it was always disjointed, and it never made any sense. Physically, both companion and mistress were as fine as they could be in a strange world filled with weird plants and creatures that may or may not poison them at any given time. Mentally? Well... Själ was hanging on. And at least Ansgar was staying close. Perhaps they would turn out all right, in the end. After Själ's entrance to the Rift, the pair had wandered. Even if she wanted to search for any of her one-time friends, it would have been impossible to find them in a world she didn't know. Maybe if she wandered, she could at least ask questions, see if anyone knew of a common area. If nothing else, the horses of Helovia would be safer in a group, even if they had once been enemies. Surely they could all come together at a time like this? Even she would contribute... if she could find anyone to help. Eventually, they had come to an ocean. Ansgar, wanting to stretch her wings, had pointed out an island just a short way out to sea. Part of the mare had been wary - what if the oceans here had a bigger bite than the ones at home? - but after a brief pause, she had stepped carefully into the waves and begun to swim. She'd have to dry her leather out well, but otherwise, she made it to the island with little issue. Shortly after shaking the excess water from her coat, Ansgar rejoined her, wanting to stay close as the pair explored. "Talk." -Ansgar.-

@Mauja, maybe?

---

---

Eyes followed the trail of the two from the moment they arrived upon the beach. Cold eyes, furious eyes, burning with hate and suspicion and self-righteous indignation at the intrusion of this alien. Hidden amidst the thrashing waves Ilunga observed it carefully, trying to assuage its intentions upon being here. Antipathy grew and hardened as the person entered the surge and began to swim towards the Key. What did it want with hir island? What was it doing in hir ocean, with its plain colors and flying demon and it's drab, ugly lack of individuality? Why was it here, why wouldn't it just go back through that accursed Portal and leave hir alone?

Had it not done enough harm already?

It would have been so easy to kill it while it swam. Ilunga had considered it, toyed with the notion in hir mind and stroked the izala longingly with flowing fins. It had been so long since it had been allowed to feed, and surely this drabcoat would make a fine meal for her weapon. But even as Ilunga had dived deep beneath the whale-tooth-carrying equine, indecision had come over hir. It might not be so prudent to slay this demon now, come to think of it. There was so very many of the strangers, countless numbers that had come pouring out of the Portal. More came with each day that passed, and at this rate it would not be long before they crowded out the natives. Tensions were sure to run high, if hir own reactions to the invasion was anything to go by, and all it would take to start a war was a single spark...

Ilunga did not have time for war.

Reluctantly ze lowered the spear and settled for stalking the individual as it emerged out of the water and entered the virgin soil of the island. Ilunga was not made for land and would not be able to prevent the intruder from going further inland if they really set their mind to it, but... perhaps it might be possible to distract them. The Floating Key was perhaps spared the taint of darkness, but it did not mean the land was safe. Perhaps one of the land-dwelling predators would come and finish this alien off... That would spare Illunga both the effort and the blame.

Yes, that was a good plan.

So ze began to sing. A haunting, beautiful lament rose from the sea as ze drifted closer to the beach, allowing the waves to carry her into shallow water. Ilunga's voice had been a source of pride for hir family, a deep contralto full of hidden depths and exciting nuances. Ze used no words in hir song - for what words could one possibly want to waste on god killers and thieves - but there was emotion spun into the hymn, full of pleading and warning and a soothing, coaxing suggestion that it might be best not to go any further.

Really, it was entirely in the person's own interests to obey. Ilunga was sure they would understand.

---

---

@Själ Hope you don't mind!

Tamlin He was laying flat on his side in the soft, white sand, hooves pointing towards the sea. His mane and tail was splayed around him looking like matted rope ends. His body, usually covered in mud, dried blood and dust, was washed clean by the sea and almost glistened in the sunlight. At first glance he could even appear rather handsome, but in reality he was little more than skin and bones. He did have some muscles left, or rather the appearance of muscles thanks to his friesian blood.   Last night he had found himself at the shores of the mainland, watching an angry, black sea. The hellish, humid rainforest was behind him. Looming. Pressing. The winds had been howling - whipping the waves into a frothing fury and Tamlin had entered them. Straight out in the churning ocean he had gone. Why? Who knew. Maybe he just wanted to be done with it all? To silence the voices in his broken mind and just float away.   This morning he was washed up on the beach. Discarded by the ocean. Unwanted. He had coughed water and his lungs were hurting because of the salt. He was dead tired - for when his body was submerged in the cold water it had decided that it did not want to die after all and Tamlin had fought. He had fought the thrashing waves and the strong currents and as the sun peeked above the horizon and the seas calmed down he had landed on the white beach. Now he was laying there, his horn and half his face buried in the sand. Too tired to even move an ear.   From this awkward angle he could not see much through his one visible eye, but further down the beach he did suddenly see a shape coming out of the ocean. Another unicorn! Instantly three different possible identities crossed Tamlin’s mind. First he thought it could be the spotted mare from the rain forest, but then he noticed the glass horns and a desperate hope that it was Aviya flashed in his mind, but he knew it was not her. Lastly he was transported back in time to a beach not in any way like this one; a shoreline of rocks and gravel beneath the towering cliffs of the World's Edge.   "Snö's móðir." he murmured, even as he knew that it was not the dark empress emerging from the sea. His voice was weak and the words were muffled by the sand around his muzzle making it so even Tamlin himself barely heard what he said.   On top of that a voice rose from the waves at the same instant as he spoke. A song so eerie it sent chills along his spine filled his ears. All emotions, but one, were stripped from his body and mind. Only one thing remained - fear. Who was the singer? What did it want? For it must be an it. No mortal being sang like that! Table by Neo

Själ The once-princess swam on, unaware of the danger that lurked below.  Had she been in her right mind, she likely never would have gone into the water.  She didn’t know this land.  She didn’t know who or what may live in it.  The fact that she had gone into the stormy seas with so little regard for what might lurk in the depths was a testament to how much the transfer to this world had shaken her.  Whatever madness had possessed her mother, Själ was not one to strike out carelessly without a plan.  Well, not anymore, anyway.  And yet, here and now, she had done so.  Why? Well, why not? she asked herself bitterly.  Maybe I ought to have just stayed behind.  But she didn’t mean it, not really.  Shaken and afraid she might be, but suicidal?  Not hardly.  Even Ansgar ignored her dark thoughts (or the mare thought she did - it was hard to tell, broken as their bond was), knowing them to be nothing more than petulant griping. She landed on the shore and shook, beads of water spraying the sand.  Luckily for her, she’d made it to solid ground much more easily than whatever poor creature huddled in a lump further down the beach.  She could tell little about it from this distance, but it was rather dark in color and more than a little waterlogged.  With a shrug, she moved down the beach toward the other being.  What could a broken mound of flesh do to her?  At least she was on all fours and moving.  And she had Ansgar (sort of) and her daggers.  No, there was little threat to whatever it was that laid at the waters’ edge, if her assumptions were right. It was a bit stupid to assume anything about this gods-forsaken land, but, after all, Själ wasn’t in her right mind. She halted before the lump (for some reason, she thought of her mysterious snapping turtle friend from Helovia), tilting her head to the side as she stared down at him.  "Are you really half-drowned, or is it some kind of trick to get me to come closer before you try to stab me?" she asked in a tone of mild curiosity.  The stranger certainly looked half-drowned, but her instincts were starting to kick in again, and wariness kept her muscles tensed, just in case she needed to leap away.  And anyway, it never hurt to ask about a stranger’s intentions, did it? Suddenly, an eerie song drifted by on a breeze.  Själ’s head turned, almost of its own accord, as she looked for the source.  However strange the sound, it was almost pleasant, calling to her and enticing her a few steps away from the stranger on the sand.  "Where is it coming from? she murmured softly, almost to herself, seeming to have forgotten the stranger. "Talk." -Ansgar.-