[private] (tobiah) I promise to be better - Printable Version +- Beqanna (https://beqanna.com/forum) +-- Forum: Explore (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=1) +--- Forum: The Common Lands (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=72) +---- Forum: Meadow (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=3) +---- Thread: [private] (tobiah) I promise to be better (/showthread.php?tid=9917) |
(tobiah) I promise to be better - Brine - 07-28-2016 Her eyes glide over the meadow, the soft song of birds cooing beyond her reach. She stands independently, with a soft breeze lightly lifting the long thick feathers creating her mane and airing beneath her wings. So little, she is. Little but fierce. Her body is lanky and petite, still developing into a women yet her personality is so bold. Too loud for a body so restricting. She is caged and held like a giant in a human cell, her mind so overbearing that soon she will begin oozing between cell doors until the entire infrastructure crumbles beneath the force. Her heart is pounding—with a painful but persistent boom with every beat—because she fears she might see her mom. It wasn’t so long ago, her being nestled between the comfort of her mother’s neck, hugged close against her shoulder. Her body hadn’t reached beyond her leg, hidden almost instantly within her mother’s black coat. Had it not been for the light blue tint developing with Brine’s age, she could have disappeared into her mother’s body altogether. Back then when Brine thought their relationship would be forever, back before she got lost in a hail storm and… well, no more being huddled within protection. Feathers ruffle as she internally motivates herself to move, an action that lately required too much thought and negotiation. Her left talon breaks the bond first, and of course the rest of her blue roaned frame is now expected to follow. Breaking through softly landed snow is easy, despite how her legs sink in to her knee. Winter had always been her favorite. How trees look like iced sugar in the morning, and how crystal-like icicles draped down from hanging surfaces in beautiful decoration. How the sky seemed to either be a florescent blue or a calming serene grey, and the feeling of snowflakes softly landing on the bridge of one’s nose. Her eyes land on a shadowed area along the treeline, and instinctively she meanders over. The blackness indulges her like dinner, hiding her feathered body within the safety of it’s reach. Much like her mother; the blackness providing security. B r i n e @[Laura] RE: (tobiah) I promise to be better - tobiah - 07-30-2016 — tobiah — in these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die and where you invest your love, you invest your life RE: (tobiah) I promise to be better - Brine - 08-11-2016 I am a huntress. I am a woman of incredible eyes, sharpened talons, and softened feathers. I am a horse made eagle, with a wing span enough to create a large gust of wind and claws large enough to wrap around the hock of a Clydesdale. Yet here I am, dwindling like a dandelion in the cover of shadows; they cover all my scary secrets. Pupils dilate, quickly enlarging and minimizing, in and out, as mice of prey scamper through emerald blades. I am not hungry, I am bored. However when I am standing, I am hungry. If I am not busy, I crave anything and everything. I crave fish, and mice and grit. I crave everything but being here, and yet here I am. Let me rephrase myself; I am not a good huntress. I swing my head to quiet an itch at my shoulder, only beneath my wing when suddenly hear a masculine voice. Spooked, I pivot hastily to analyze the intruder head on, my ears pinned tightly against my scalp: I see nothing. “Your newest nightmare if you don’t reveal yourself at once,” I know I am not threatening, my voice being more frustrated than terrifying. I don’t have the energy to catch a salmon, let alone fight paranormal activity. Though, I do believe it is the effort that counts, not only the delivery. Unless it was a real battle, in which case whoever does not win is most definitely a loser, regardless of the effort shown. He assembles like crystals all shimmering into one solid figure. A golden hue, contrasting heavily against the blackness of shade, and I feel myself staring maybe a second too long. He looks like the sun after years and years of fading, with soft hair and wings that surround his barrel like a blanketed night sky. If I wasn’t so angry with him, I might have found him rather attractive. Alas, I have issues forgetting things. Aggravated, I swish my tail menacingly (hah, or so I thought) against my flank, my nostrils erupting with air to form a disgruntled snort. “If you are some form of my guardian angel, please by all means resign. You aren’t very good at your job.” B r i n e @[tobiah] RE: (tobiah) I promise to be better - tobiah - 08-13-2016 — tobiah — in these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die and where you invest your love, you invest your life RE: (tobiah) I promise to be better - Brine - 08-15-2016 My eyes settle on his poised face like a hawk sighting mouse. He does nothing, his expression a perfected sculpt of coldness and passiveness that I cannot begin to assume his thoughts or intentions. He disintegrated from the darkness that I once felt so safe in, and now had tarnished my view of what was safe and what is not. And to top it off, his face is a sculpture, and no emotion reads from his eyes. “If this is what a princess looks like, then perhaps it is good I have avoided kingdoms all together,” I level out my tone to sound neutral, though it is evident I am guarded. Guarded because he is magical, guarded because I can only fly so fast and I can only stand to fight if I can see what I am fighting. A slight flicker in the twigs above us allows the sun to peak, beams lightly cascading across his face, and I become distracted in his golden coat. Heavily large wings wrap themselves around my sides, though they are far too bulky to fit my barrel as his appears to. He speaks of nightmares, but I cannot relate to this. Demons of my mind have not come to haunt me yet, I am still free of their torture. My only nightmare being death; I am petrified to die. Petrified to realize that there is nothing beyond blackness once my eyes close that last time. Petrified to learn that an afterlife was a folks tale made to instill hope in living creatures. But that nightmare only haunts me before I sleep. “Just because I am not your nightmare yet, does not mean I will not make the cut,” blue eyes angle at his golden stature before lifting my feathered head to level with his own, seeing him analyze my frame, “enough staring. I come to the shadows to avoid it.” His guardian angel comment rolls of my shoulder, I may as well consider myself lucky. Whatever haunts him has his own mind preoccupied, and heaven forbid he attempts to juggle my fate along with his own. My eyes shift to stare beyond the shadows, eyeing the distant mingling of other equines. His tone, again, breaks the silence. My, what a talker he is. Carefully, I dissect his question as it molds through the air like a piano note. “No, I do not need someone to care for me,” a hardness forms my aura as I shift moods, “I have done well enough so far.” Instinctively my eyes raise, appearing to challenge yet my intention only out of sincere curiosity, “what about you?” B r i n e @[tobiah] RE: (tobiah) I promise to be better - tobiah - 08-28-2016 my memories are full of only black and blue; I should’ve cut my losses long before I knew you.
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