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Post by sylveadiff on Oct 28, 2013 14:45:54 GMT -5
A horse shakilly stepped into the shallow water, it's monodactyl right front hoof prodding at the warm beach pebbles. It felt something sharp against the "frog" of it's foot, and tentitavely pulled the hoof backwards, scooping the object against the hard outer ring of nail that formed a circle around the digit.
She was a tall blue-roan mare, with odd darkened coloration on her neck and legs. 3 horns painfully protruded from her skull, two back and behind the ears, one forewards from the crest of the head. While her coloration was rather odd, she had no other noteworthy features.
The arab-mare peered curiously at the crystal. She had seen them before, but only on the human decorations of her old home. She identified it as an amythist. Then, she turned her hoof pad-upwards towerds her face. She had cut the soft inside of the foot on a fragment of the irridescant lavender stone.
Cautiously, the mare gased at the fleshy center of the hoof, as the small cut healed before her eyes. Curious...
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Post by TimeLordNanc(: on Oct 28, 2013 20:15:24 GMT -5
Fitzwilliam Darcy
It had been a while since his last outing, and the large black brute walked briskly in the Stormstime air. Darcy's icy blue eyes gathered information about his surroundings, eying the shallows for the bodies of others. Though not as hostile as he once had been, his cold, well-bricked heart was still undergoing an internal war: to believe or not to believe. Of course, he knew that this place was real, that the chilly, damp air that filled his lungs was, in fact, oxygen, but somewhere in his fairly wise mind he couldn't believe a single part of it. Sighing, the massive stallion licked his chapped lips and started for the nearest part of the Shallows, trying hard to deny the thoughts racing through his mind.
For instance, where had his Chief gone? It was a nightmare around Gascti. Even her rather striking son had disappeared, causing slight panic in the rainforest. It was very unlike the buff mare to vanish and relinquish her rights of royalty, but of course it wasn't any of Darcy's business to meddle in her personal affairs. Perhaps blackmail? Or, rather, a change of heart? But he highly doubted it. She was a firm believer in Chiefly duties, and Darcy had never seen her turn away from her title. Strange, yes, but any concern of his? Not in the least. He would always be a solider of Gascti, whether there was a Chief or not. He just hoped there would be some resolution, and soon.
Stepping heavily despite his lithe (for a draft) appearance, the pure black, normal-looking horse drank the fresh liquid greedily, taking his time and enjoying the chill as it slithered down his parched throat. After a few minutes of silent slurping, he lifted his head, the audible drip drip drip of the water falling from his chin the only sound. It was then that he saw the mare.
Her coloring was almost normal, but of course he knew there would be something abnormal about the tall belle. His eyes poured over her body quickly, seeking signs of danger, but seeing none he took a few steps forward and greeted her with a low throaty nicker.
"Hello. Who might you be?" He asked, not quite unkind but sturdy enough that he showed his dominance over the horned dame.
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Post by sylveadiff on Oct 28, 2013 22:27:15 GMT -5
"I should be asking out the same question," The mare replied, lifting her head away from her front hoof, which had now completely healed, and revieling the jet-black undercoat of her throat and chest. She pawed unsteadilly at the crystal she had unearthed. Not as large as the others, but equal easilly in appearance, she thought to herself, although that could have easilly applied to both the crystal and the horse in front of her.
"I come seeking a land known as Aeon. Is it nearby?" She asked, keeping her posture formal, albiet her tone showed her distaste at the sight of another horse.
She stared down at her hoof, briefly. There was blood, but no wound. Odd. She pressed her hoof firmly and expiramentally against the amythist again, and again it bled only briefly before it began to heal. Soon, however, the mare had diverted her full attention towerds the draft horse. " I appologise at my rudeness, but the costs of my travel have been gravely severe."
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Post by TimeLordNanc(: on Oct 29, 2013 13:40:10 GMT -5
Fitzwilliam Darcy
Darcy watched as the mare lifted her head, exposing the dark stain across her throat and chest. His eyes trailed down her with judgment, though of course these were hard times and who couldn't afford to be? The red that swirled daintily in the calm waters below her drew his attention, and he eyed her hooves before asking in a semi-concerned manner, "Are you alright? You seem to be standing in an awful lot of blood, ma'am." The British lacing of his accent tinged a few of the words, but nevertheless they flowed without a skip, despite the fact that he hadn't even spoken in a while, much less to another. But before he even finished taking a breath after speaking, she replied to his first question quickly.
"I should be asking out the same question."
He bobbed his head as if saying touché, and walked around her in a wide circle, still curious about the blood. As he neared her rear, a strange emotion overcame the large stag. It was almost a feeling of shock and wonder, perhaps at something just discovered. Underneath these emotions challenged another, one of displeasure and slight skepticism. It took only a moment for the commotion to send a shiver down his spine and melt away, but left Darcy feeling cold and vulnerable. Snorting loudly, he glared with sharp blue orbs at the blue roan creature, mentally blaming her for using magic on him.
Little did he know that it was he, and not the newcomer that had perceived the other's emotions.
Her question rang out and he stepped away a few feet, hopefully out of her spell-casting range, and listened.
"I come seeking a land known as Aeon. Is it nearby?"
The raven-colored Shire shook his head and looked all around, signaling to the world surrounding them. "You are in Aeon. It's an island, right smack in the middle of a never-ending sea. And there's no way out. You've damned yourself to a life full of horrible sights and rather annoying customs, so I'm sorry for your loss." He began to turn away from the seemingly haughty mare, until her voice once more stopped him from leaving. He turned his head to look at her fair face, despite the three protruding horns that were a distraction from her speech.
" I apologize at my rudeness, but the costs of my travel have been gravely severe."
His eyes darted back towards the ruby-colored water and his brows rose. "You don't say?" He paused for a minute before adding, "by the way, the name's Fitzwilliam Darcy, but I'd prefer you call me Mr. Darcy."
OOC: So, Darcy just had a vague reading of her emotions since he is a level two Psionics. He hates magic and "abnormal" horses, so that's why he blamed her. He doesn't know that he has powers, too :3.
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Post by sylveadiff on Oct 29, 2013 14:25:38 GMT -5
(OOC: That's fine, Canarj is lvl 1 ressurection, and I've decided to manifest it as a healing factor of sorts.)
" Well then, I am glad to be able to be here at all," She said, once again cutting herself against a crystal, this time one that was above water cutting into her forelimb. She licked the cut, as if to make sure it was real.
The cut began healing where she had licked it. At this point she noticed that she was starting to get tired, so she pawed the crystals away from a section of smoothened pebbles in the shallow water and lie down apon them, "I am known as Canarjus." she stated dully, She fealt no danger in talking to this horse, it seemed to be of an acceptable temperment, despite it's... wariness. That it should be. " Excuse me, Darcy, but do you know of any good grazing land nearby?"
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Post by TimeLordNanc(: on Oct 31, 2013 15:59:17 GMT -5
Fitzwilliam Darcy
Darcy watched as the mare continued to play with the gem, slicing her own skin and watching it close on it's own. Witchcraft, the thought to himself, slightly freaked about the fact that the mare was self-harming in front of a stranger.
" Well then, I am glad to be able to be here at all."
He shook his head, disappointed that his verbal abuse of Aeon had went right over her horned skull. She must be a bit thick as well, he mused to himself, watching as she chose to lie in the slightly bloodied water. Darcy fought to control his facial expression, masking it into a very sturdy poker-face, and listened as she gave him her name.
"I am known as Canarjus."
He bowed his head sharply, long, thick mane spilling over the right side of his neck with the quick movement. The stallion's ice-blue gaze kept watch over her, wary of her strange ways and odd expectations of this place. Did she not know of the dangers, of the lunatics? The only normal creature he had met so far was a ghostly gray mare by the name of Morphine. A rather quirky girl, that Morphine, but the best of all he'd met so far. She, too, had disappeared as Aeon fell more and more silent. It was as if the land was holding it's breath for something.
Cararjus's words stripped him back to reality with a rather vague question. He fought the urge to sigh and take her to Gascti, knowing that it would only cause a quarrel due to the loss of his beloved Chief.
" Excuse me, Darcy, but do you know of any good grazing land nearby?"
"Mister Darcy, and as a matter of fact, I do. How do you like Cliffs, miss Canarjus? It's a wonderful spot, really, that is, if you're not afraid of heights." His voice rumbled, deep bass tone clashing with his English accent. "Or, if you are, we could always visit the Steppe. But I've never really enjoyed volcanoes, I think they're just terrible. Never actually seen one up close before, but I hear they have many dangers."
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