Araxia -- a need for vengeance (Any)

[Araxia]

It was all Shivani's fault.

She was the one who told Araxia what to do, how to do it, and usually, she was right. But she hadn't been this time. She had told Araxia to walk away, because it was the best and only course of action to follow, but she had been wrong. Nothing was worth this sort of hurt, being alone without anyone she had ever known. They came to this land, and Araxia could stand it no more.

"We should split up," She had told her sister, firmly and without any trace of anger. It was the only way anyone could ever convince Shivani to do anything, if she believed that it was the logical action.

Shivani's face turned towards her, calmly, and her ears flicked once. "Why?" She asked simply. Not asking why Araxia wanted to leave her, no, asking for the reasoning behind such a decision. 

"I cannot see you without being reminded of what we left behind," Araxia tried to explain, stumbling over her words. "Besides, it would give you the freedom to make your own choice of where to go, rather than being held back by my weaknesses. You would fare better without me." Emotions. They're called emotions, not weaknesses, she knew, but she held herself back from saying such a thing to Shivani.

Shivani took a moment to consider, her body rock solid. "This is true," She conceded, driving the final hole into Araxia's heart, but the skewbald held her tongue. "Thank you for raising my awareness to the situation, and I perfectly understand your reasoning. Perhaps with this sort of logic will help you fare well in this new world. Goodbye, and I wish you good fortune in this place." She bobbed her head once, and strode away. Araxia watched until the white patches swirling around her coat were smudged against the landscape, and wrenched her gaze away. The final blood tie was severed.

The heavens flamed red and cast a warm glow of fire on the mare's hair, warming her even more than the heat that her thick coat provided already. Her smaller size allowed the highest tips of the grass to touch her knees as she pranced, flattening stalks at random. Her usually low-toned voice rose to a higher pitch as she laughed in pure joy, allowing herself to move whichever way she wanted, no matter if there was no sense or logic behind it. She could go where the wind took her. If she wanted to gallop in circles until her chest heaved and legs burned, then she could, If she wanted to prance in place out of sheer boredom, as she did now, she could.

Shivani went through life using her head, while Araxia used her heart. And that was why Araxia was not sad about leaving her sister, because her heart longed to see her sister's blood spilled upon the ground, for forcing them to leave everything they had ever known when those Araxia had loved needed her most.

Shivani needed to die for there to be any sort of justice in this world.

[tannor]

With a past so dark, that Satan'd jump out of his seat.
But still you out in these streets, thinking you hot as can be.
Without the knowledge to lead, so you just follow the sheep.
Making sure your lame swag is all polished and clean

Have you ever wondered what it was like to grow up so quickly that you were never able to experience a childhood? Most had a choice when they had to experience that sort of quick growing. Either they grew up quickly in order to survive the life they had been handed, or the shriveled slowly with the struggle they had to fight through. Tannor though had been born into a world draped in chaos and bloodshed. A war that had been completely unexplained to him. Amongst death and decay he had slipped into this world only to be shoved into his feet and led to a young mare with a power no one else held.

It had taken moments but the newborn was formed into a three-year-old stallion. The actions had knocked him out and when he had come to, he had found himself alone with only one memory. Being told by an unknown voice that he was to find the Gates, as he was now their king. He had spent weeks trying to put a name to the face, yet he couldn’t and he never would be able to. Slowly he made his way out of the Valley, soon heading north and searching for the Kingdom whose name rang so clearly in his mind. Coming upon it he spent time not just learning the kingdom but fixing it in places the war had wreaked havoc.

It’s curious though. If his actions were done in order to better the kingdom or simply done in order to provide the best for himself and himself only. Though as the days passed, the solitude the kingdom brought with the many deaths and disappearances the war began to make even him grow uneasy. It was an inherited personality trait from his father, though he would never know it. As much as he liked solitude, he would always seek the company of others after a time. It was almost as though the silence made his dark spirit grow anxious.

It was one of those days. Those days the silence began to bother him, make him grow anxious… In response he found himself soon making his way out of the gates, his muscular legs carrying him towards the meadows and then on through towards the field. He had heard of this common tradition where the members of kingdoms went to this place only to return with the homeless in order to build their ranks. He knew he needed to learn how to better be the king he was meant to be and so why not start now?

His movements are slick as he steps through the tall grasses upon entering the field and coming to a stop the sharp black stallion blinked slowly. When his eyelids rise his eyes are entirely black, hiding within his features as he studies the members of the field with a patient concentration. It is then he sees her. The young mare so full of hate and with a small smile he finds himself chuckling before slinking forward. He can feel it, the way she is reeling inside. Oh how he could use that. How he could mold her.

Maybe one day he could even give her what she was seeking. But for now a home would be all he could afford to offer her, and with that thought he steps forward headed in a straight line towards the mare. It takes a while but he finally reaches her and with a soft snort he comes to a stop, head tilting slightly as his eyes trace over her slender form. ”It’s not often one comes to a place like this so full of anger,” It is simply an observation he speaks of as his voice slowly slips through his lips like silk. ”Penny for your thoughts?”

tannor.

[Araxia]

The smaller mare's body bends into a small circle as she turns, the tip of her long, chocolate-colored tail dragging in a wide radius around her. Copper and the palest of creams are set aflame by the rising sun, dancing on the Vanner's coat. Her hooves click together as they spin, the speed of their movement partially out of shock that such a man had approached her so quickly and without diversion. Compared with the other mares that littered the field this morning, she was a tulip in a bed of roses, easily overshadowed. 

Irises colored as icy as the mare's current mood flick towards the stallion whose scent currently occupied her nostrils, which flare once as she inhales. She accepts his presence calmly, even a little bit exhilarated that he had come. But that excitement, a hot, flaming thrill that races along her spine, quickly turns to shock as his wings stole her focus away. Wings- something that only belong stretched on either side of a bird, yet here they are, folded gently into the sides of this magnificent male.

Much as she doesn't want to be in awe of a man she had just met, she is. She stares for a few moments before she flips a strand of dark mane into her eyes, unimpressed with herself. Cold radiates from her once more as she remembers her purpose for being here today, the same purpose for which the male had approached her. Curiosity can wait until a later day, if this new land is to become her home. It is illogical to assume that all places were like her own-

No. Fuck logic.

Such a thought only makes her spark of anger fan into a raging fire. She is sick of logic.

She forces down such a rage, knowing that it would not assist her purposes today. She reaches out with all her senses, grasping for a feel of this stallion. She listens carefully to his voice, concentrating on the little details- the way he chose his words, the note of his voice, the way he pronounced each syllable. For the most part, she is neutral. His speech is pleasant enough, she supposes, and he is not unfriendly, but the way he chooses his words reminds her a little of Shivani- like he is choosing each one to impress her. 

But what she feels is that he may be a friend, if only she does not allow him to manipulate her. As long as she does not let herself be taken in by his silky tongue. In the spirit of such, she forces the anger to the back of her, and replies easily, "None of my thoughts are quite that cheap,  I assure you." She laughs, her voice an attempt to match his pleasantry. Her tail swishes once.

---

Ugh. This is crap. I'm sorry.