[open] Wind in the willows { any/gates/dale }

[Faebane]

The painted mare tosses her head, freeing her sight from her thick unruly hair only to have it hook over a prong of her large ivory and beige antlers, leaving her more disheveled looking than she had before. Her large pink eyes glimmered with curiosity as she wandered the strange new lands, having made her way from the barren shores of the ruins to the lovely meadow surrounding her. Faebane knew not how she got here, nor where she hailed from before waking on the stone shore. Confused and alone she spent her wandering hours in the daylight wracking her brain for some scrap of a memory other than her name, only to find herself more frustrated. She figured whatever she must have been before, this was a chance at a new life in this foreign land.

The meadow was a summery place that made her feel at ease unlike the ominous ruins. Equines of various shapes, colors, and sizes dotted the rolling flowery landscape in small, seemingly cordial groups. She observed them with genuine curiosity as she settled herself within a patch of thick clover, and bent her heavily horned head to tear up some of the sweet pink blossoms, her hair once again falling over her eyes. Wanting to find out more about this place, she let out a soft whinny laced with curiosity. Hoping to find a friendly soul to tell her more about it.

《 F A E B A N E 》

[October]

Post coming ♥️

[Tipitina]

Tipsy’s mothlike antenna quivered as she drifted closer, her long, ink-dipped limbs cutting an unhurried path through clover and wildflowers. The meadow’s gold light splintered against her piebald coat, catching in the neon threads of her mane like little shards of mischief as she sauntered towards the antlered dame. She moved as though she had all the time in the world and not a care if it slipped away.

“Hello there” she chimed, voice a ripple of laughter barely tamed. A pause, as though she were listening to something no one else could hear. Her lips curved, playful and secretive. “It’s a lovely day, don’t you think? The meadow almost feels like it’s humming… like it might burst into song if we only asked nicely.”

Her antenna flicked toward the sunlight above, greedy to snatch some piece of it down for herself. When her gaze returned, it held both brightness and chaos, as if she might delight in seeing the world tumble sideways just to watch where it landed.

“You’ve found the sweetest patch of clover.” she mused, bending to pluck a bloom with delicate care, chewing it slow as if tasting the air itself. “I’m Tipsy,” she added, light and offhand, as though the name might slip away the second it was spoken—yet her eyes held the stranger with an unmistakable invitation, warm and glimmering.

Jumping in eek- feel like I'm starting to figure out Tipsy's vibe hehe)