01-23-2017, 05:59 PM
idk what this trash is. sowwrrrryy.
@[Toli]
ilter was uncertain of everything. Death’s purpose for him, why his Angel had chosen to save him, who he was, or where his family had lingered off to. The little lupine boy had just begun to unravel what life truly had to offer. He had only ever had his wolves, the magical things of the Valley that had become his family, and the lone stallion who watched him, Ruan.. And now, now he had Death looming over him, and an Angel by his side. He knew nothing of the magic running through his blood; his ability to move things with his mind. He knew nothing of his father;a chaotic magician who cared for little but himself. And he knew nothing of Beqanna; a vast land of magic and might that he had only seen one corner of.
But today, that would change. Death had brought Kilter and his Angel to Pangea, the barren wasteland that reeked of dismay - it was a poor choice for a young child. His Angel had done well, finding what nourishment she could and seeking shelter to keep them warm through winter. But the snow had melted, the cold tucked away for next year; and while Death still kept his grasp on Kilter, the boy sought for more. He was no longer weak and trembling at Death’s door. He had flourished under the Angel’s care in the past few weeks, and was restless with the energy he had discovered.
“Please, please can we go? I promise I won’t wander far. I swear I’ll listen to everything you say.” He had begged his Angel, the fire haired mare who was constantly by his side. He wanted to see the edges of Beqanna, he wanted to see more. Pangea was too quiet, and no place for a boy like him to make friends. His Angel relented, because it seemed the only thing she wanted was to see Kilter smile. (Little did the wolvine boy know that there was so much more going on inside that mind). And off they went, to the meadow of Beqanna, which Kilter had never seen.
The journey seemed long, and Kilter’s still-weak legs tired, but as they crested the meadow, the weary was worth it. The silver boy bounded throughout the growing grass; flora and fauna a sight for sore eyes after his stay in Pangea. His spindly legs flouted him throughout the meadow, his eyes taking hold of each flower and creature and sight (with equal measure to look back to his Angel).
And there before him stood a woman of green - her skin a ramptan color of the rainbow - the only other soul that Kilter had seen, save for his Angel, with such a tumultuous color. “Hi.” Shyly, he steps forward - his eyes fixed to the rippling green and purple before him.
k i l t e r
eight and topsail’s timid telekinetic
@[Toli]
Kilte
R
the feelin' like you're smilin' even brighter when the weather's shit
K
ilter was uncertain of everything. Death’s purpose for him, why his Angel had chosen to save him, who he was, or where his family had lingered off to. The little lupine boy had just begun to unravel what life truly had to offer. He had only ever had his wolves, the magical things of the Valley that had become his family, and the lone stallion who watched him, Ruan.. And now, now he had Death looming over him, and an Angel by his side. He knew nothing of the magic running through his blood; his ability to move things with his mind. He knew nothing of his father;a chaotic magician who cared for little but himself. And he knew nothing of Beqanna; a vast land of magic and might that he had only seen one corner of.
But today, that would change. Death had brought Kilter and his Angel to Pangea, the barren wasteland that reeked of dismay - it was a poor choice for a young child. His Angel had done well, finding what nourishment she could and seeking shelter to keep them warm through winter. But the snow had melted, the cold tucked away for next year; and while Death still kept his grasp on Kilter, the boy sought for more. He was no longer weak and trembling at Death’s door. He had flourished under the Angel’s care in the past few weeks, and was restless with the energy he had discovered.
“Please, please can we go? I promise I won’t wander far. I swear I’ll listen to everything you say.” He had begged his Angel, the fire haired mare who was constantly by his side. He wanted to see the edges of Beqanna, he wanted to see more. Pangea was too quiet, and no place for a boy like him to make friends. His Angel relented, because it seemed the only thing she wanted was to see Kilter smile. (Little did the wolvine boy know that there was so much more going on inside that mind). And off they went, to the meadow of Beqanna, which Kilter had never seen.
The journey seemed long, and Kilter’s still-weak legs tired, but as they crested the meadow, the weary was worth it. The silver boy bounded throughout the growing grass; flora and fauna a sight for sore eyes after his stay in Pangea. His spindly legs flouted him throughout the meadow, his eyes taking hold of each flower and creature and sight (with equal measure to look back to his Angel).
And there before him stood a woman of green - her skin a ramptan color of the rainbow - the only other soul that Kilter had seen, save for his Angel, with such a tumultuous color. “Hi.” Shyly, he steps forward - his eyes fixed to the rippling green and purple before him.
eight and topsail’s timid telekinetic