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+---- Thread: lost to these linens / any (/showthread.php?tid=18263)
lost to these linens / any - Wishbone - 02-15-2018
haze like a fever
i fell like a dreamer for sweet tea and lemonade; it clings to my t-shirt it’s loud and it lingers, designed to suffocate. i light up to find what i’ve known all this time, there’s some beauty here yet
“I’ll be back before sunset, Wishbone. Be safe and listen to the fairy.” Wound’s words ring in her ears as she delves further into the Playground with all the wilderness she holds inside her skinny frame. They’d made their way through the common areas to reach the children’s place, although Wishbone knew her mother was planning to return to the Field and scout out some more recruits before the day was over.
The firecracker didn’t mind being dropped off; it gave her more opportunities to explore the world and feed her ever-growing hunger for adventure. Auburn strands of hair twist their way across her high cheekbones, while her skinned-up knees push her through the clearings and into the midst of the play area. Her amber eyes glance around for a brief moment before she make her way toward a stream to drink from the clear water.
The firecracker didn’t mind being dropped off; it gave her more opportunities to explore the world and feed her ever-growing hunger for adventure. Auburn strands of hair twist their way across her high cheekbones, while her skinned-up knees push her through the clearings and into the midst of the play area. Her amber eyes glance around for a brief moment before she make her way toward a stream to drink from the clear water.
RE: lost to these linens / any - sochi - 02-21-2018
Mother had told her that perhaps her other self was not the greatest thing to show to others. When Sochi asked why, mother had explained that big cats who weren’t also horses tending to be predator to horses, so people might think she was dangerous. Sloene was a careful mare, and she wanted Sochi to be careful too. The dark-colored filly vaguely remembers all this, but she also feels the pull of the tiger in a way her mother can’t imagine. And, well, children tend to forgot instructions when you leave them in the care of the fae (who certainly aren’t threatened by a tiger cub) and wander away.
So the girl who is usually a dark-colored filly with an iridescent blue face is right now a feline instead, not quite a cub but certainly an adolescent. Her orange pelt is striped with black, and she is practicing her sneaking. Sochi knows that cats are supposed to be quiet and fast, silent hunters, but her paws feel large and clumsy, and she often steps on a branch that cracks or leaves that rustle. Right now she’s carefully – careful, careful, quiet – following a filly through the underbrush. Her theory today is that if she steps every time the girl steps, she won’t hear her over her own footsteps. And practice is making a difference, because Sochi is at least quieter than a sneaking horse could ever be, even if she’s not as quiet as a tiger should be.
All too soon, the filly leaves the underbrush and heads out into the open, walking the short distance towards the fresh water flowing in the babbling stream. It’s now or never the tiger thinks, crouched at the edge of the grasses; if she’s going to pounce, it has to be before there is no cover for her to come out of. It never occurs to her that she might be dangerous; she just wants to play. Sloene’s warnings about tigers are totally forgotten. So she pounces – flinging herself from the brush with a reactive laugh towards the filly, preemptively calling out, “I got you! Tag! You’re it!”
RE: lost to these linens / any - Wishbone - 02-26-2018
haze like a fever
i fell like a dreamer for sweet tea and lemonade; it clings to my t-shirt it’s loud and it lingers, designed to suffocate. i light up to find what i’ve known all this time, there’s some beauty here yet
Wishbone had come into the world riding on the back of predatory threat. Mere minutes following her birth a lioness had attempted to prey on her. She has always lived in close contact to danger — scraping her knees doing any sort of climbing, nearly drowning trying to reach sea otters, investigating some sort of scent that makes her instincts scream “Run!” — and her birth was no different.
That doesn’t mean she’s entirely numb to the sensations of instinctual terror. Although a natural voice reaches her ears, Wishbone can only see the outstretched paws and orange face of a young predator pouncing on her from the shadowy camouflage of nearby bushes. A scream rips itself from the filly’s throat as she tries to dodge the tiger-cub, heels flying and heart pounding.
She initially startles in the opposite direction of the threat before scrambling across the stream, feeling the water soak her limbs and underbelly. Desperation claws at her throat and for an entirely sane moment, Wishbone wonders why her mother might bring her here. “It’s trying to eat meee!” She’s clumsy at the moment, dragging herself up the other side of the stream before stumbling over all sorts of vegetation and unearthed roots in her attempt to escape.
She ends up tripping over one particularly nasty root of a nearby tree, knees colliding harshly with the earth (ripping new gashes and breaking old scabs). This is it, Wishbone thinks to herself. Suddenly, with that thought, she is no longer afraid. Laying splayed out on her side, she turns her head dramatically to face her unfortunate death, sheer determination and courage shining in her amber eyes.
That doesn’t mean she’s entirely numb to the sensations of instinctual terror. Although a natural voice reaches her ears, Wishbone can only see the outstretched paws and orange face of a young predator pouncing on her from the shadowy camouflage of nearby bushes. A scream rips itself from the filly’s throat as she tries to dodge the tiger-cub, heels flying and heart pounding.
She initially startles in the opposite direction of the threat before scrambling across the stream, feeling the water soak her limbs and underbelly. Desperation claws at her throat and for an entirely sane moment, Wishbone wonders why her mother might bring her here. “It’s trying to eat meee!” She’s clumsy at the moment, dragging herself up the other side of the stream before stumbling over all sorts of vegetation and unearthed roots in her attempt to escape.
She ends up tripping over one particularly nasty root of a nearby tree, knees colliding harshly with the earth (ripping new gashes and breaking old scabs). This is it, Wishbone thinks to herself. Suddenly, with that thought, she is no longer afraid. Laying splayed out on her side, she turns her head dramatically to face her unfortunate death, sheer determination and courage shining in her amber eyes.
RE: lost to these linens / any - sochi - 03-01-2018
For a moment she is caught up in the thrill of the game – the thrill of hunt-chase-pounce – and she scrambles after the other girl, but she quickly realizes when the filly screams and continues to scramble away, crying out that Sochi is trying to eat her, and so she drops back, ears dropping to the side of her head as she winces. Whoops. Lifting her head over the grasses, she watches the other girl trip and fall down and then she movess forward slowly, trying to be not-scary.
She’s too excited to shift back, so she is stuck as the tiger cub who has so terrified her potential playmate. She crosses the stream and creeps closer, keeping herself tucked beneath the sheltering grasses. Instead of raising her orange head, she raises her voice to be heard instead. “I’m not trying to eat you!” she calls, voice ardent and sounding somewhat hurt. She had yelled tag, hadn’t she? What kind of predator would warn their food they were coming? Certainly not Sochi. “I just wanted to play,” Now her tone is distinctly sullen, pouty; taking the hope that the other girl was at least listening even if not believing, Sochi pops back up over the tops of the grass and walks forward to where she has fallen, pink tongue flicking out nervously to wet her lips as silver eyes that look totally out of place on her orange face take in the sight of the girl splayed and bleeding in front of her.
“I have a horse form like you,” she says. “But I’m not very good at getting it back yet. My mommy says I need practice. I’m Sochi.” And then, as an afterthought: “I’m sorry I scared you.”
RE: lost to these linens / any - Wishbone - 03-05-2018
haze like a fever
i fell like a dreamer for sweet tea and lemonade; it clings to my t-shirt it’s loud and it lingers, designed to suffocate. i light up to find what i’ve known all this time, there’s some beauty here yet
There isn’t anyone there when she turns her head. Wishbone can feel her heart pounding so hard that it might burst through the membranes of her chest. Adrenaline courses through her body so quickly that she’s practically vibrating from her position on the ground. The path behind her (where she had cut through the grass on the other side of the stream, where her feet had slipped in the mud, where her legs had tripped over roots) is empty and void of danger.
In fact, a squirrel climbs down from the tree nearby and stares at her for a moment. Wishbone can picture the confusion on the creature’s face and she pins her ears in its direction, daring it to tease her even more. The girl knew she had an imaginative mind, but this was stretching it. The voice that breaks the silence pushes Wishbone’s doubts aside.
The entire scenario had been real, but the predator wasn’t a threat at all. The voice peels itself away from the tall grasses, revealing a tiger cub who isn’t attacking her. Wishbone scrambles up from her place on the ground, half-covered in dirt and mud, knees bleeding from the gashes. She barely feels the pain as she trots closer, still a bit wary. “Oh.”
Wishbone’s curious mind takes over, subduing all worries that remain. She’s seen shapeshifters before, but only in Tephra. Longclaw, the commander of Tephra and a close friend of her parents, could shift into a wolf. She’d seen him transform only a handful of times, but it had been enough that she isn’t surprised when it does happen.
“I’m Wishbone.” She’s half-smiling now and it looks untidy on her dark face. “My mom and dad’s friend, Longclaw, can change too… But he changes into a wolf.” She’s twisting around Sochi now, poking her nose in places it probably shouldn’t be. The orange and black fur feels soft against her face. “Are you orange and black as a horse too?”
In fact, a squirrel climbs down from the tree nearby and stares at her for a moment. Wishbone can picture the confusion on the creature’s face and she pins her ears in its direction, daring it to tease her even more. The girl knew she had an imaginative mind, but this was stretching it. The voice that breaks the silence pushes Wishbone’s doubts aside.
The entire scenario had been real, but the predator wasn’t a threat at all. The voice peels itself away from the tall grasses, revealing a tiger cub who isn’t attacking her. Wishbone scrambles up from her place on the ground, half-covered in dirt and mud, knees bleeding from the gashes. She barely feels the pain as she trots closer, still a bit wary. “Oh.”
Wishbone’s curious mind takes over, subduing all worries that remain. She’s seen shapeshifters before, but only in Tephra. Longclaw, the commander of Tephra and a close friend of her parents, could shift into a wolf. She’d seen him transform only a handful of times, but it had been enough that she isn’t surprised when it does happen.
“I’m Wishbone.” She’s half-smiling now and it looks untidy on her dark face. “My mom and dad’s friend, Longclaw, can change too… But he changes into a wolf.” She’s twisting around Sochi now, poking her nose in places it probably shouldn’t be. The orange and black fur feels soft against her face. “Are you orange and black as a horse too?”
@[Sochi]
RE: lost to these linens / any - sochi - 03-12-2018
The filly has scrambled to her feet and towers over the tiger cub as she approaches; she has gotten bigger as she gets older, but not that big yet. Plus, she’s not altogether big in her horse form, either. Still, her eyes take in the way the other girl’s knees are all muddy and bloody and she winces, before letting her gaze continue to upwards to the girl’s face.
But at least the other filly isn’t going to hold it against her - she is smiling now, winding around Sochi and investigating what she is with a slightly invasive nose and inquisitive words. But Sochi feels like she owes her something for nearly scaring her to death, and so the filly-tiger tries to stand for the investigation, though she squirms a bit when Wishbone hits particularly ticklish places. She perks up, ears flipping forward off of her skull, at the idea of a wolf-shifter. A wolf would blend better, certainly; there are few natural feline predators in Beqanna, and none who are tigers. It’s not the right climate, really, not the habitat. Plus with so many horses, there are few large prey like deer for the extraordinary large felines.
But she is relaxing, even as Wishbone is poking at her, and so even as the girl is forming a question about her horse form, Sochi is changing back into her horse form. The orange fades and the black stripes widen until she is black all over, though iridescent blue stripe blooms down her face. Her legs lengthen, her face lengthens, her ears go pointy, paws become hooves; she gives herself a good shake when it’s over, ending with a flick of her tail to settle all the long hairs into place. “Uh…nope.” she laughs. “I’m pretty boring as a horse. Except, you know, the blue thing. I guess my dad was blue all over, so at least I’m not that!” She can’t imagine trying to camouflage if she was shiny blue all over.
“So um…maybe you want to play a game now?” Hopeful.
RE: lost to these linens / any - Wishbone - 03-29-2018
haze like a fever
i fell like a dreamer for sweet tea and lemonade; it clings to my t-shirt it’s loud and it lingers, designed to suffocate. i light up to find what i’ve known all this time, there’s some beauty here yet
Wishbone watches with amazement as the tiger’s body melts down to a horse’s form. Her sunset eyes are wide as orange-and-black fur curls into near-black and large predatory teeth shift into grass-grazing blades. She hadn’t seen Longclaw shift before, only knew what he looked like in his wolf form compared to his horse form. A quiet “Wow” drags out of the girl’s mouth once the process is over.
She’s starstruck for a moment, hundreds of questions pinging around inside her mahogany head, but when the shifter-girl suggests a game Wishbone’s sable mouth works itself into a deliriously-wild smile. “That sounds great! Now I know you won’t eat me.” She laughs, a quiet-shattering noise that crackles against the songs of the birds and the whispers of the winds. Wishbone pops into a short, excited buck before nudging Sochi with the broad of her nose and taking off the other way. “You’re it!”
She’s starstruck for a moment, hundreds of questions pinging around inside her mahogany head, but when the shifter-girl suggests a game Wishbone’s sable mouth works itself into a deliriously-wild smile. “That sounds great! Now I know you won’t eat me.” She laughs, a quiet-shattering noise that crackles against the songs of the birds and the whispers of the winds. Wishbone pops into a short, excited buck before nudging Sochi with the broad of her nose and taking off the other way. “You’re it!”
@[Sochi] so I know it took me forever to reply, but I figured this would be a good place to stop (^-^) I'm glad they were able to meet and hopefully they can be friends sometime when they're older!