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Post by Rhapsody on Apr 24, 2011 3:35:51 GMT -5
Aislinn [/font]_________________________________________________[/center] When she was young, the visions of her dreams of all black horses had been reassuring; like her father watching over her in her dreams. But now, at the age of four (though she seemed so very aged beyond those four little years) Aislinn was haunted by the images, which were now far more nightmare than dream. As always happened when she experienced the nightmares, she awoke in a fright, sweated up with her heart racing. Breathing heavily, her brown eyes scanned the dark expanse of the plains in search of life, but found nothing. Just as she had known she would. They are only dreams, suppressed memories; nothing more, nothing less. She chided herself as she sucked in air, trying to reassure her emotionally charged half with the calm undertone of her logical half. You were thinking of them earlier today, it's no surprise you dreamed of them tonight. She reminded herself with a sigh, giving her entire body a shake as if to remove the memory of the nightmare itself from her entire being.
Aislinn was alone, as she always was; few equine that she had encountered could deal with a horse as silent and seemingly tortured as she. It no longer bothered her. Silence was her overly conversational friend, and solitude was her constant companion. It had been this way for a year, and even before that, during the two years she had spent with Lachlan, silence had ruled supreme. Stretching out her legs, the mostly black mare picked up a slow walk, her head hanging lower than usual in both fatigue, sleep deprivation and ultimately, low spirits. Every time she had the nightmares of her family, she felt decidedly misplaced. Why had she not perished or vanished with them? Why did she have to suffer alone? She had been a child; certainly her karma could not have been bad enough to merit eternal solitude! Giving a harsh snort, she mentally pleaded with the gods as she had done a thousand times before (to no avail), desperately wishing for the return of one, just one of her former family members. The father she idolized, her admired elder brother Jupiter, her beloved mother; but above all else, she longed for her other half, her twin; Absinthe. Why did they have to be parted from me? She begged in silence, letting her skull hang lower still, her eyes clamped shut as she fought the wave of distress that overcame her. Inquisitive as she was, it was one question she could not and would not ever be able to learn the answer to, and it irked her to no end. Why?
At long last, the mare took a few slow, deep breaths and raised her head at half mast to once more take in her surroundings, gulping away her inner agony. Granted, no one was around to witness her momentary weakness, but she felt no need to continue to stand here oblivious, a marvelous target for any passerby. Life went on, as always, and so would she. Until the cold grasp of death brought sweet relief and a long overdue reunion with her family, she would soldier on as time passed slowly by.
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Kenren
Noob
[M:100]
You don't mess with another man's Zebra Cakes.
Posts: 24
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Post by Kenren on Apr 24, 2011 18:54:14 GMT -5
Desmond Grail was restless.
That wasn't normal for him; he slept well, even on stormy nights. He was well accustomed to activity during the day, so much of it that it tired him out enough to sleep through the night, even with a prey animal's flighty nerves. He had been no more lax during the day than normal, despite the rain that had falling steadily for hours at a time. Perhaps that was the reason for his waking; the clouded sky was releasing no moisture, and simply acted as a barrier between the light of the heavens and the mortals down below. The great grey stallion shifted in the tall grasses; he'd been trying to make sleep come, unsuccessfully, for what felt like hours. It irked him that there were things about his body that he couldn't control, that he couldn't just force to happen. The more he tried to make sleep come, the more elusive it became. Finally, he gave up with a frustrated sound. His mind was clear, though his muscles ached with stiffness as he picked up a jog away from the tree that had been his shelter. The stiffness didn't last long; his well-toned muscles gladly accepted the exercise, and soon her hardly noticed his legs moving at all.
Instead he occupied his mind by gazing about the landscape, dark eyes seeing less than he would have preferred in the dark. Some light showed through the clouds, but not enough to see easily by. If he was any other stallion, he may have worried about predators hidden in the tall grass, with night vision much better than his own. However, Desmond was strong and he knew it. Perhaps it was foolish to feel unafraid of night-stalkers, but then again, he had confidence in all things. This was no different. And so he traveled the land that was his temporary home, not really seeing, not really feeling, completely in the throes of the darkness around him.
Until, almost like some sort of odd magic, a shape appeared in the distance. At first it seemed to waver; that was probably the effect of the grasses in the breeze, and the shape's dark color against the night sky. Soon, though, the shape could not be mistaken, and Desmond slowed to a stop. This apparition before him was a mare, dark as the night around her save for patches of white on her face. The stallion watched her critically for a moment, eyes taking in what could be seen in the dim lighting. Then, he smiled, a cocky turn of the lips that could charm as well as aggravate onlookers. "It seems I am not the only one unable to sleep tonight." His voice, a lilting tenor, was pleasant enough. It was only that turn of the lips that kept him from seeming like the perfect gentleman.
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Post by Rhapsody on Apr 24, 2011 19:37:02 GMT -5
Aislinn [/font]_________________________________________________[/center] Perhaps it was because of the way the light breeze could tamper sound. Perhaps it was because she was only half awake. Perhaps it was just wishful thinking. But at the sound of a male voice, her heart was sent racing, certain for a moment that the self-assured, arrogant tinted voice she had just heard was his. Her father's. Her eyes wide and brimming with enthusiasm, the minimal tobiano whirled to greet the all black stallion that she so firmly believed would be standing there waiting for her.
She was to be disappointed.
The first thing she noticed was the stark contrast of his seemingly white coat against the dark night, an eyesore in the sea of black where instead, her father would have blended in perfectly. So would her brother, Jupiter. Or her sister. But him? He was the visual opposite of what she had hoped to find, a cruel joke at the hands of the gods. Not that she should have expected anything less of them; it was clear she was their favorite punching bag. Bitter disappointment welled within her eyes as she took in the stallion, the defensive walls that had so briefly come down instantly being built up once more. "An unfortunate predicament." Her voice was soft but made more rough than normal from a prolonged period of misuse. It felt strange, speaking again, acknowledging another living being. Her tongue was still tingling from the sensation of speaking and the mare's gaze avoided that of the stallion for a while, until at last her own curiosity beat her down and her brown eyes lifted to take in his frame without the lens of foolish hope tainting her opinion as it had moments before. The result was a shiver as she took note of the curve of his lip; his smirk was entirely familiar, so alike her father's. "Although one I am closely acquainted with." It was a strange turn, for Aislinn to offer up any additional information without being prompted or put under duress.
Her eyes skirting his own gaze, the mare slowly turned her body to face him, if only so she could be better equipped to keep an eye on him. Intrigued though she was, her trust was far from given to him, or anyone. Aislinn was broken for a reason; she was not keen on repeating her prior misfortunes due to stupidity or a momentary feeling of deja vu because his smile resembled her father's.
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Kenren
Noob
[M:100]
You don't mess with another man's Zebra Cakes.
Posts: 24
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Post by Kenren on Apr 25, 2011 20:56:20 GMT -5
He didn't know if he'd startled her, or if something else about him had caused her to turn with such sudden alertness. He didn't move, watching her steadily to see what her appraisal of him would be. Interestingly enough, she did not seem afraid that a strange stallion had come upon her in the dark of night. She was either brave or stupid, though one could argue that the two were the same thing. Whatever she had felt upon first hearing him was gone; she sagged a little, eyes, so full of... something (life, a poet might call it. Desmond was no poet) just moments ago, became a little listless. A little disinterested. Whatever she was thinking, she deemed herself fit to speak, with a voice that could be quite beautiful without the rough rasp woven in. The whole of her could be quite beautiful, actually, if she would straighten herself up and raise her head with regal power. Then again, not everyone could have the same level of confidence that he did; he was never mistaken for a stallion who could be easily pushed around. This mare... if there was any true power in her, it was deeply hidden.
Desmond bit back a sigh. He could be wrong about her - after all, she'd only spoken a few words, her body language could just be fatigue - but if he was right, this could be a very good opportunity indeed. But one that would have to be carefully taken advantage of. No missteps. She might not have confidence, but that didn't mean she was stupid.
"I can't say that I share such an ailment. Tonight is something of a rarity for me." There was a light tone in his voice, but also something of a bored note. It wouldn't do to seem too interested in her, even if she had caught his eye. He let the smile drop from his face, and he looked off over the plains for a moment. His tail flicked his flanks; he shifted his weight. Then, his eyes moved back to her. "Forgive me for saying it, but it seems to me that it might be dangerous for a mare alone. Wolves, you know." He bit back the urge to give his own wolfish grin, pushing away his own occasionally predatory nature. It wouldn't do to scare her off at this point. Then he'd have to give chase, and... well, it wouldn't end well for her, in any case. As if to punctuate his words, from the far distance a wolf howled, far enough away that they were safe, but close enough to make a point. He watched her with something of a dark look in his eye.
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Post by Rhapsody on Apr 26, 2011 0:28:22 GMT -5
Aislinn [/font]_________________________________________________[/center] His tone and his words gave no indication of danger, but there was some distant, dull warning bell going off in her head. Perhaps it would have been a blaring alarm to most; but Aislinn had grown up with a father that most would easily have described as frightening and intimidating and all things negative. Thus, such traits as these were less obvious to her as they were to others. Her eyes swung back to him in time to catch his gaze and she felt (but did not physically show) a shiver run down her spine. His next words, however, made her blood run cold and she gave a visible shudder, taking a hesitant step backward (and closer to him). Wolves. In an instant she was just weeks old again, watching as the sleek, slinking shapes raced across the open expanse of her old plains home, flashing teeth and snapping jaws ripping apart the charcoal frame of the father she so adored.
Struggling for breath, she forced herself back to the present, though the sight of her father's blood soaked body was still burned into her brain. Mouth agape, she searched for the words, for once unable to find the words and equally incapable of speaking them. Not wolves, anything but wolves. The wolves had been the first of several events that had marked the downward spiral of her family line; the downward spiral that had left only herself and her brother (to her knowledge) still among the living. "I-I-" She was frozen, trapped between past and present by the thick quagmire of her own intense fear. It was the sound of the wolves, so tangible, so real and so close, that finally brought her back to her earthly senses. "True enough." She managed, her barrel still quivering with each ragged breath. What was she supposed to say? What was she to do? Only when logic returned to her could she find the words to say, finally somewhat in control of herself again. "Though one could argue, wolves are almost as dangerous to you as they are to myself." A lone horse was a lone horse - wolves had little preference, from what she knew, for mares or stallions.
Finally lifting her gaze from the ground back to his features, she had to force herself not to pick out the most inane similarities between him and Cancer. She'd drive herself mad doing that. But then again, who was to say she wasn't mad already? She wasn't entirely convinced of her own sanity, to be honest.
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Kenren
Noob
[M:100]
You don't mess with another man's Zebra Cakes.
Posts: 24
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Post by Kenren on May 1, 2011 16:30:27 GMT -5
He gave the mare a curious look at her rather extreme reaction to his words. Where she had been very calm and collected before, something he had said had caused her to lose that composure. Did she finally realize the position she was in, a mare alone with a strange stallion? Or was it the threat of the wolves? The former had been his real intent, the latter an afterthought, to slightly mask the meaning of his words. But no, it must have been the wolves, as she took a step toward him, looking with fear into the distance. Interesting. Every equine had a healthy fear of wolves, of course, but she seemed to have some other, deeper grievance with the creatures. He did so want to ask what ailed her, to see if she would answer him truthfully... but he knew that wouldn't happen. She was too closed to answer the question with anything other than a brushed-off comment. He continued to watch her in silence as she tried to speak, and failed. Even when she did answer him, her voice seemed a little choked. He remained silent as she composed herself, unwilling to come to her rescue. Finally, she spoke with words that did not waver, and they brought a small laugh from his throat.
"Touché," he conceded, giving a slight inclination of his head. He chuckled again, the smile returned to his face. "Well then, it is a good thing we have found each other, is it not? I would personally prefer to avoid a conflict with the creatures, and two sets of hooves are far more intimidating than one." It was true, even if he wasn't really worried about the small predators. The wolves he'd met before had run after a kick to the jaw or a bite to their back. Unless they were truly starving, they were generally smart enough to leave a grown, strong stallion alone. The young or injured were their true forte, the cowardly beasts. Desmond frowned briefly at the thought, then the smile returned. He rather liked her afraid, so he wasn't about to tell her of his own experiences. Perhaps she wouldn't believe him, anyway; there were exceptions to every rule, and perhaps whatever she was afraid of stemmed from one of those exceptions. He decided on a different line of conversation. "Now, love, I fear I have been very rude, as I have yet to introduce myself. I am Desmond Grail." Again he inclined his head, though a little deeper this time, almost a bow. He then raised his head, looking at her with calm expectation in his deep brown eyes.
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Post by Rhapsody on May 1, 2011 17:08:30 GMT -5
Aislinn [/font]_________________________________________________[/center] She had not expected his comfort, nor would she have known what to do with it if she had received it. After all, she'd been comforting herself since the age of one; orphans such as her really didn't have anyone to lean on in times of distress, after all. Nodding her agreement that they might be best off sticking together for the short run, the mare was otherwise silent,concentrating on the steady side-to-side motion of her tail as a distraction from the Cancer-esque stallion. Even in her silence, there was still a note of fear though, in the tension of her comportment, the angle of her ears (slightly back, listening keenly in the direction the howls had come from) and in the depths of her eyes. All this added up to one rather distracted and social etiquette rusty Aislinn. When the stallion spoke once more and offered his name with a tidy, sweeping motion, she paused, her mind momentarily blank as to how to respond to such a formal gesture.
Digging into the recesses of her ill fated upbringing, Aislinn responded in kind as she had been taught to do, offering him a tidy dip of her head (perhaps she should have made a bow in return; she was no longer, after all, the Princess she had been born as). "A pleasure, Mister Grail." She intoned, her voice only minutely constricted by the fearful feelings of moments prior. Perhaps 'pleasure' was overbold, but it had always been her mother's term of choice and so Aislinn used it here, reflecting to herself that it was, in some regard, pleasant to be in the presence of one so reminiscent of her sire, she supposed. "I am Aislinn; last surviving daughter of the late King Cancer and his Queen, Lykoriss and, as fate seems to have deemed it, your new interim traveling partner." She murmured smoothly, having decided on her elongated introduction as a means of expressing her own self worth and to deter any ill conceived notions he might be brewing. It was because of Desmond Grail's similarities to her father that she felt some minor stirring of trepidation, the longer she chewed at it. After all, her father had had (past tense, unfortunately) many heirs before the unfortunate demise of the herd, and not all of them had been produced by choice of the mare. And Aislinn was hardly keen on being made the victim yet again; she'd played that role far too often already in her brief life, and she did not fancy it by any means. So it was with a curious but watchful eye that the nearly all black mare regarded Desmond, curiosity tempered by her own sense of self preservation, if only just.
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