Beqanna
[private] she had a marvelous time ruining everything - Printable Version

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she had a marvelous time ruining everything - Aela - 11-21-2020


Aela has always known that she is not a girl for standing still.

She is filled with big dreams and so they are always stirring, always calling, even demanding at times that she do something. So the blonde girl travels from the Chamber to the Common Lands as she sometimes does to learn what she can. Aela still keeps her distance - those who wander around aimlessly seem to have a reason that they do so - and she takes care to not become overwhelmed by memories that are not her own.

The nearly-palomino fllly has no time for that. Not when she is too busy considering her future.

Spring thaw made travel from the Chamber and through the nomad realms easier. Aela, as she does with most things, took full advantage of it. And for every moment that she could spare away from her studies, the memory-giver was conducting her own here. There had been a young stud who had ventured too close (and Aela encouraged it by lowering her shockingly blue eyes demurely to peer up at the stallion from beneath dark lashes) that she enjoyed overwhelming. The fear as it whitened his eyes had pleased her and but unfortunately, the brute was gone before Aela could even attempt a simper.

(There were others in the Meadow - but they are the young and the elderly, those too stupid to find a realm to shelter out the winter - and Aela is not interested in testing her abilities on the weak. She wants the strong, she wants to pit herself against the best to ascertain her place above them).

Bright sunbeams filtered through the branches of the tree that Aela stood beneath. The girl watched, studying the few who grazed in clusters and finding nothing of importance, looks to the shadows. She probes the dark with memories - the sight of the fleeing stallion, bursting rocks in Nerine, infinite reincarnations of a stellar Carnage from dreaming about her father - and waits.




image credit to footybandit


@[phaetra]


RE: she had a marvelous time ruining everything - fierte - 12-06-2020

FIERTE
I AM SICK WITH WANTING
AND IT'S EVIL AND IT'S DAUNTING

It's been the monster. It always has been.

There was a morning, a soft and wonderful morning. Peaceful, quiet, and loving. Fiorina had been bringing Breckin around and Fierte had taken a liking to her. Curled against the spotted woman's stomach, he slept. Up and down his stomach went, tranquil and certain. The rhythm was good, so easy and so unlike the hunger that burbled in Fierte's stomach. There he slept, gentle and sweet.

And there he wept, awake in his dreams. Chasing little animals. He was hungry. The hunger found him in his subconscious, hunted him until he could no longer keep his legs beneath him. Found him in the waking hours.

Monster, Fierte, a monster.

He can't help but to black out, and when he does the evil is so overwhelming it stirs his meals and keep him awake at night. He remembers training with his mother, concern furrowing his brow. It wasn't for a lack of love or kindness that made him this way. No, it was the magic, the armor, the predator. It's his nature.

And when he finds her - little Aela, so confident and scheming - it's his nature that tells him to chase. Little Aela, so golden and new. Little Aela, so like the prey he wants to eat.

"You should run," he rasps. The muscled snake-tail behind him snaps, shivers.

"You should run." A whisper.


@[Aela]


RE: she had a marvelous time ruining everything - Aela - 12-11-2020


Aela has never been sweet or soft (she might have been once, but that version of the near-palomino got  swept away by the tide that her father had attempted to drag her out in).

The projection she gives is as skilled as the memories she wields. She is a small filly, slight of stature and slim-hipped. Traversing through the Common Lands, most horses don't notice that the girl slipping through their presence isn't a girl at all. She is more than that, but to reveal the secret means giving her game away and Aela will always enjoy the way she toys with others more than divulging what she is or what can do.

Fear, she has learned, is the most malleable of emotions.
And fear is the easiest way for Aela to get what she wants.

Maybe her memories had been the lure. Fierte - who exudes base extinct, who reminds Aela of the hawks who sit on the edge of the Meadow while they wait for prey, who reminds her of the cunning foxes that linger between shadows and burrows - waiting, always waiting. Maybe that is the difference between those predators and this one; natural law instructs that they mark their prey - however it comes, where it wanders - and then they strike.

This one does not wait.
This one comes.

Run, he tells her. (What is he? Aela's eyes are roaming over his shape in reserved delight, studying the tail, the shape of his head, the sharp teeth that mark him a carnivore.) She angles her body away from him, turns it away slightly so that she remains out of striking (and biting) range. It doesn't stop her from asking questions (because he is brilliantly feral, as wonderful as the aliens in Pangea): Run like the deer? she seems to ask with the projection of a white-tail doe who turns and flees from being hunted. What about the pheasants? The images of birds flushing to the sky beckons forward in a startled rush. A hare? she adds with the image of a long-eared creature fleeing the Meadow for the lush cover of the Forest.

Her head tilts, indicative of the messages she has sent. The expression on her lovely face, however, says nothing of what she is attempting: setting a snare of her own.




image credit to footybandit


@[fierte]