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

You're a diamond, dear
Trial Rainforest Cliffs 
Eira
#1
Eira...
One night, as she slept pressed against the feather-cloaked shoulder of the slumbering colt, the rain began to fall.

A thick blanket of pregnant grey clouds had amassed across the sky, marking the beginning of Drench and even before she rose the next morning, the rainforest they had been sheltering in for weeks had been transformed into a misty, water-logged wonderland. Much of the rain fell upon the vast canopy up above, but sweet sounding rivulets and great gushing overflow made certain that the thirsty earth waiting beneath, was thoroughly inundated too. Eira’s blue eyes opened in fright as a giant leaf tipped overhead and a flood of freezing water rushed down upon her head. Frightened at first, she stumbled hurriedly to her hooves, though as she paused to absorb the almost unbelievable transformation around her, a bright smile overwhelmed the frown folding into her face.

There was a sweet, clean scent upon the air and the filly’s narrow nostrils sucked away at it greedily; then down they plunged beneath a spray of startled fluid and up lifted those tattered wings that had been wrapped safely and tied for many days beyond her reach. The quiet girl fluttered and fanned each long feather, cavorting and bathing in one falling stream and then another. It had been so long since the mud had been stripped from her shaggy, light-blue coat, since the skin beneath the caked layer of sweat and salt, had been cleansed enough to breathe; the feeling was delicious, and for most of those early hours, she did nothing more than play in the shower.

By mid-morning, she was fossicking about the shade of cherry trees, searching for fruit that had ripened through the later months of scorch; these were a favourite food, and while in a general sense, she could span many days with no desire to eat, when these morsels were available she would binge quite contentedly on the succulent, red flesh. The excess water, repelled, to begin with by the stunned, dehydrated earth, was already carving a pattern of gently meandering, downhill channels towards the vicinity of the cliffs. Eira sipped gratefully, indulging in perhaps more than she really needed, and it was as her lips caressed the clean liquid that a leaf barreling down one such steam, caught her eye.

Aboard it was a tiny, worm-looking creature, like nothing she’d ever seen before.

It was long and decidedly plump, striped in an ostentatious style with pretty neon hues, and still more curious were the intermittent sprouts of long hair along its body that were soaked and dragging along behind the boat. The creature was saturated, and visibly uncomfortable. Though the filly couldn’t quite make out which end was its head (both had wavering red antennae and giant black blobs which could possibly have been eyes), the one towards the back of the hurtling leaf, was airborne and waving about in distress - Eira realised, as it drew closer, that the caterpillar would be thrown from the clifftop if she didn’t step in and help.

The rescue went horribly askew, as the merciless course of water seemed more determined than ever to carry away its victim. She placed her hoof in its middle once, twice, but each time is split in two and deviated snuggly around her obstruction; exasperated, the young winged horse fought back. As the leaf and its prisoner scooted by at speed, Eira turned upon her hocks and sailed into the lead. Fearlessly throwing her life on the line, she plunged down into the current and spread her scrawny frame out like a dam. The water could go no further and it swirled and flurried angrily as it came rushing up against her. Carefully, she reached towards the rocking, spinning leaf and took its stiff stem in her teeth; slowly (so as not to drown or unbalance the poor soul upon it), she dragged it to higher ground nearby.

Gazing down with a soft, worried eye, she found to her dismay that the little grub wasn’t moving.

The pounding heart beneath her blue breast lurched desperately and she dipped still lower to try and gauge whether or not it was breathing - its fat middle seemed not to be moving at all. Eira frowned deeply, bothered but undeterred, and gathered herself to stand; then to drag the leaf along backwards, to the shelter which had kept she and the colt securely, through the days past.

(NOTE: Eira’s body is currently covered in an infected rash, and lightning strikes her intermittently
Trial: Kidnap a baby animal and raise it to adulthood.)
Open to any <3
"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
Rift Presence
#2
the Rift
Despite the fact the worm was no longer moving, perhaps at some point it might respond, but there was a far greater presence that seemingly went unnoticed. A duo of Eriucla had been adrift, floating aimlessly through the wind. The mother, bundled up and hunched, holding her dearest child against her chest, telling the poor thing that everything would be fine, they just needed to make it through the wind. But things wouldn’t be fine, for the Eriucla wasn’t from the Cliffs – no, these small tiny creatures were from the Floating Key, and there was no way they’d be lucky enough to find their way back. And so they floated and floated, continuing their decent until suddenly –

SMACK.

What probably felt like nothing to Eira, felt like the world being flipped and spun as the two Eriucla collided with her mane. They went unnoticed, remaining stuck to the mare as she returned to where she came from with the little worm. And while the mother Eriucla was a territorial thing, terrified of leaving her poor child to starve against the mare, decided to use their greatest ability to try and get them away. It was quite the effort though, the small creature thought she had a hold on her child, but it faltered as the mother began to billow away without her daughter’s hand.

She didn’t go far, however, landing on a nearby leaf, ready to make the plunge again to the child still stuck on the mare’s mane, somehow sleeping soundly despite everything that had happened. Evidently the walk back had lulled the child to sleep much like the wind's lullabies from the salty air of the Floating Key.


@Eira The Eriucla isn't from the Cliffs but billowed in from the Floating Key! They look like this and you have managed to ensnare a mother and her child!
» Presence of the Rift «


Eira
#3
Eira...
The rain fell steadily down upon her dense, overgrown coat, drumming a constant rhythm against every huff and puff as Eira fought fiercely against the odds, to rescue the coloured caterpillar from the jaws of untimely death. No creature, she felt, deserved to suffer an end as cruel as she imagined suffocation to be. As she endeavoured awkwardly backwards, slipping frequently over slippery lichened-logs, and treading only once on the screaming surface of a mossy rock, the ambitious filly pinned a watchful, kind-hearted eye upon her patient - still it failed to move. Waves of disheartenment threatened to interrupt her effort, but until the vulnerable little creature was safe (whether or not it passed during the process), she just couldn’t abandon it to the will of Drench.

“Vy?”

Quickly she glanced beneath the weeping veil of the Glow Cherry’s leaves. She could not see her friend nestled there beneath in the raised nest they had built, and snorting softly in dismay, Eira’s thumping heart sank. Her narrow, pink chin dipped back towards the ground, to the leaf within who’ s cup the water was now pooling - the worm remained unmoving. “Vy?” Her quiet mind called still more desperately, for his beautiful ability to tend to broken skin might be able to also fix this life. No matter the strain of her willpower, the painted colt failed to appear through the forest surrounding and the young filly sighed dismally. Carefully she pulled the little creature in its boat (water gushed from the sides with each jerk) until it was safely perched in the snag of a broken rock, well above the flurries of rising flood water below; overhead, a thick arm of leafy timber acted as an awning.

“You will be safe with me,” she thought sombrely, smiling softly, still clinging to the vain hope that it might only be sleeping.

As her petite blue skull began again to lift, a strange sight caused her to hesitate and the breath ready expel, stuck fast in her long throat. A small flower, nay, the delicate bud of powder-soft dandelion seeds, was perched (still intact), upon a leaf near the level of her withers. She’d not noted anything of the sort growing among the scattered stones and fernery of the rainforest, and cast a quizzical eye across it's she stepped a little nearer. It did look rather like the seed pod she knew well - only - nostrils found themselves beside it, and gently, very carefully (so as not to blow it free altogether), the breath she’d been holding unleashed upon it.

@Rift Presence  
(Note: She spots the tuft upon the leaf near eye level and blows very softly at it)
"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
Rift Presence
#4
the Rift
The mother had remained on a branch nearby, poised to try and spring in an attempt to dislodge the small fuzzy child from the mare’s mane. But before she could, however, a wind blew by – none that would be noticeable from the Eira’s standpoint, the Eriucla were small creatures that any sort of wind felt like a hurricane to them. Yet, the child dozed on while the mare lifted her head. The mother began to squeal a sound probably not heard over the other sounds of the forest, and before the older Eriucla had a chance to jump back over to protect the child, she watched in anger as the mare blew a small breath onto it.

The child immediately woke, it’s fuzzy outside blowing back with the force of wind. When it was over, it’s eyes popped open to survey what had happened – at first she saw two brilliant blue eyes staring back at her. Then, the more she looked, she spotted her mother far off in the distance. It clutched the leaf and began to tremble, terrified that the mare might end up eating her – though judging by the mare’s size it wouldn’t even be felt. Did the creatures of the Rift even eat them? The young Eriucla hadn’t been old enough to hear the tales of the world around her yet.

And so it trembled, while the mother pounced in an attempt to land on the mare’s nose, it’s small little paws attempting to bat the mare away from the child.


@Eira The mother tries to attack!
» Presence of the Rift «


Eira
#5
Eira...

To the curious filly’s astonishment, two tiny eyes appeared from their shroud of sweet white-down, and she immediately recoiled her chin a small distance, uncertain just what exactly she’d awakened. It didn’t look at all dangerous - yet, neither did the inconspicuous looking, screaming moss which smothered many a rock in this forest. With a good amount of caution, though always true to her calm, gentle nature, Eira watched the creature and stood as still as she could manage; silky threads of silver swaying on their own accord, as the light wind puffed along by. “What are you?” she thought, a thoughtful smile easing through the gaunt contours of her face.

The little ball was rather cute, and the more she studied it, the less like a seed pod, she noticed it to be.

Though the waterproofing oil in her feathers had been stripped clear and their length had been chewed into tatters, she lifted one blue arm and fanned the dulled primaries as best she could to shelter her unexpected friend. At that same moment, however, another just like it ambushed, lunging forward through the lightening drizzle and attaching to the little blue horse’s nose. Coal-tipped ears craned forward and her honest eyes crossed as she endeavoured to watch, but it was the fringe of her vision, and only the stroke of its batting paws betrayed its position. Every touch tickled terribly, like the brush of dried grass seed against the near-naked, grey skin.

“No… Plea… Wait!” Eira’s thoughts begged suddenly, as her lungs gathered strength.

But it was too late.

Far beyond her capacity to stop it, an enormous sneeze erupted from the orphans dark-rimmed nostrils, spittle spraying far and wide. Horrified, she began to search frantically, dipping and tilting her skull awkwardly to find glimpse of the critter which had been. “Oh dear, oh dear,” she worried frantically, turning to check on the ball stuck in her mane; her wing had slipped and soft rain was beading again in its pale downy-fur. Quickly she realigned the umbrella and turned her upset gaze loose to find the second.
"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

@Rift Presence
Rift Presence
#6
the Rift
The mother lands on Eira’s nose and begins to frantically smack the mare’s nose. However, it does nothing but seemingly tickle her as it valiantly tries to fend off the mare to retrieve her daughter and leave. But before the mother gets a chance to jump once more to her daughter and pray the wind works in her favor, the mare inhales slightly and the mother grasps the mare’s nostrils.

And then the sneeze appears. It blasts the mother like a canon, shooting the seed-like creature off on a rogue wind back toward the Floating Key. Meanwhile, the child remains in the mare’s mane, gripping thin tendrils of her hair for dear life with wide eyes. There’s a small whimpering sound that emits from the child, though it’s hard to hear. She looks at the mare with dark beaded eyes as tears begin to form. Would this mare eat her? Blow her away like she did her mother? Or would she care for her? All she could do now was hope.


@Eira The mother flies away because of the sneeze and floats back to the Floating Key. The child, however, remains! This will be the last Rift Presence post, but from here on out you can RP the Eriucla child however you like (just like you would a companion for the rest of your trial :) )
» Presence of the Rift «


Eira
#7
Eira...
Horror! It was as hot through her as the mid-Scorch sun, and remorse was a venom that poisoned her moral conscience swiftly. “Oh, no, no, no!” …her empathetic mind wept bitterly, all too aware of the grim event unravelled and her accountability in it. The tiny creature - the parent - with its spray of white, soft-looking hair and shining, gaping eyes vanished easily into the busy background of the rainforest, though the worried young horse had already stepped after it; stopping suddenly again, however, as thought of the vulnerable babe snagged still in her mane. There was no escaping the heart wrenching sequence of flashbacks which followed. Even as her tender eyes embraced the weeping Eriucla, there was a sudden vagueness about them, distance, for she was again standing in the swamp which had swallowed her beloved family.

The screams echo wildly, the fury, amplified by a savage wind that twirls and twists about the barbaric monster on his battlefield. She can see them - Ma, Pa - and calls desperately, feebly, with a voice choked by fear. Indra is close by, calling out to her “Eira! Eira!” …but the darkness crawls about him hungrily like fingers (as it does her), binding together his wet, silvery legs and dragging him ever nearer to the howling black hole. She falls heavily into the thick, stinking bog and it floods her spluttering nostrils, leaks between the bared clench of her teeth - she feels nauseous, frightened, and she cries out again. Searching with ocean-blue eyes, she discovers the aerial plight of her mother. Wheeling and diving with masterful prowess, the weather-coated mare is simply snuffed from existence.

The child is paralysed, confused… and Indra, beside her, is gone.


The chilled stroke of the rain worked quickly to dissolve the hot tears as they streamed down the orphan’s thin face, and with clearing eyes, she regarded her puny captive. She knew well the agony accompanying loss and the bitter weight of hopeless despair. Tipping the butchered feathers again above the infant like an umbrella, she sighed (with meticulous care this time), and lowered slowly to the saturated ground. Unsure what to do, for she was barely beyond childhood herself, Eira encouraged the little Eriucla with gentle warm lips, to alight upon her knee. Though shocked and yet to cease weeping, she complied. “Are you a fairy?” the worried filly mused silently, for she was as delicately formed as the pellucid wings of a dragonfly. “I’m so sorry little Fay, please don’t cry. I’m so very sorry…”
"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