[private] Your conscience, your guide | Areane

[Kestrell]

The day was balmy, not very pleasant. A harsh wind blew down on Tephra’s northern shores, mixed from the cocktail of volcanic activity far in the distance and a low-hanging blanket of heavy clouds. Everywhere the eye could see was duller because of it, blanched from the lack of a bright sun.

The sky was mostly quiet of birds, today; it seemed like the moody weather and foul winds weren’t a good type to fly in, so they kept roosting -

- Except for one.

Just above the fortified canopy of a thick, jungle forest there was a figure swaying up and down in the sky. It looked … drunk. Obviously the wings were struggling to flap, which was why it bobbed up and down in a carousel-like motion, but it was large and bulbous-looking. Bulky.

It came into view just before plummeting down through the canopy, bringing the sound of crashing branches and chittering animals along with it.

Kestrell opened his eyes unceremoniously a minute or two later, knowing better than to move or struggle. He was dizzy - more than he’d been while flying, but that was because he was actually spinning around this time. He breathed, shivering from the sweat beginning to cool all over his pelt, and realized that there was a stiff pressure binding his legs and wings together.

Fuck, he panicked a little.

He looked down and saw the foliage-covered ground hundreds of feet below him, and realized that he’d managed to tangle himself up in a cluster of thick Tephra vines.

Damn the Gods to hell! He cursed his bad luck, wriggling gently to get a feel for how tight the restraints were, but quickly stopped. It was useless to fight against them, for now. The jungle had him tightly in her grasp. He was already weak enough from flying, and sick from an infected wound left to fester for the better part of two days. He wasn’t working his way out of this predicament any time soon.

With deeper breaths, the pegasus stallion tried to stay calm.

Think. He ordered himself, and so he did: all into the supposed afternoon while nothing came to mind but how hungry, tired, and sore he was.

Image ©Karl Martens

@Areane

[Areane]

On a day that was more suited to grounding than flying, there was a pegasus in the sky. Areane had known that this would be a reckless venture (and she could certainly hear her father’s consternation if he had known what she was about, that she was storm-flying), but there had been a feeling in the tips of her wings that had called to her.

A breeze had whipped past her, and the slender pegasus reacted as only a winged horse could: she had chased it.

Her inexperience had shown itself almost immediately. Once Areane had left the ground, she had been left to the mercy of the winds. They blew her towards the North, and then over the angry, churning sea before she was finally able to right herself. Tephra loomed ahead of her, with its beaches and outlying islands flanking the shores. The blue-sheened mare exhaled deeply before inhaling the wind-wild scent of salt and sulfur.

She had thought her storm-soaring almost over when an updraft sent her spiraling up, up, further than she had ever flown before. Perhaps she should have been scared; a more sensible creature might have been (and though there was something akin to fear before the rush of adrenaline claimed her, it was fleeting). Areane spread her wings wide and let the coming storm lift her up while she laughed - a bright, silvery sound against the gray horizon.

Reckless, foolish, these were all admonishments that she expected to hear once she landed.

But for a few short moments, she soared without consequence.

Until she saw it. Another horse in this gray endless sky. Suddenly, the miles all around her seemed to close in as Areane watched the other plummet to the earth below them. She was far enough away that even when she closed her wings and began to dive after the falling creature, Tephra remained small and out of reach. She was still miles from the jungle and try as she might, the wind wouldn’t relent so easily.

***

Finally, the breezes allowed her hooves to touch the ground. Areane was tired, but the image of the horse falling kept her hooves moving. She walked away from the shore, leaving behind the lulling sound of crashing waves and the lonely cry of a seabird. She kept moving, roaming the unfamiliar jungle until that feeling returned - a tingling at the tips of her wings.

I’m not in the mood, Areane thought as another breeze whipped past her, pushing her down another path. The dark pegasus stood firm, trying not to scowl at a sensation that was becoming annoyingly familiar. It was the wind trying to tell her something; a gift from the Old Ones, her father had said.

After the afternoon she had just had, Areane wasn’t sure that she wanted it.

But then, Areane looked up.

There was a mass of… something spinning above her. It took a moment for her to register that it was a stallion stuck in the vines. She blinked and then all her fatigue fled; "Hold on!” Areane cried out (though later she would ask, where was he going to go?) as the realization set in. Her wings flared open, revealing the light blue spots beneath her black forelock as she stared up at the nomad. "I’m going to try and get you out!”

Areane had never done anything like this before. Most of her “creations” had been small, little things that had liked to scurry around Starros to tell her twin that she was nearby. She had never done anything on this scale, and yet, she tried to imagine it. She tried to imagine life into the very vines that restrained the tri-colored pegasus. Her slim sides heaved, and after a few colorful words, they began to twist and coil much like the anacondas she had seen slithering through Tephra.

Another colorful curse that would have made Tarian have her hide, and the slender pegasus tugged on her gift again, trying to pull the writhing thing to the ground.

tacking on a disclaimer: she hasn't used her animation trait much so please feel free to have it backfire. and sorry for the novel, lol

[Kestrell]

And just as his legs were about to go numb, Kestrell heard the angelic sound of a voice coming to save him.

“Hold on!” It called out in a determined, youthful tone, prompting Kestrell to jokingly respond that he wasn’t in a hurry. He had all afternoon, apparently.

The makeshift hammock of tangled vines had stopped swaying really hard about an hour ago, making it easy to follow her instructions. Kestrell quieted down and let her work - thanking his lucky stars for the billionth time that he lived in a world full of such capable characters like the one come to rescue him.

If not for horses like Areane, he would’ve been dead long ago.

That led him to thinking about all the wonderful encounters he’d had before; there were so many varieties of magic - both large and small. Was she trying to summon a flame, maybe in an effort to burn the loose vines away? He hoped it was useful magic, whatever it was. While the feminine-sounding hero below him was doing all the hard work, Kestrell never once assumed that she was physically trying to free him.

Sometimes, he wondered if he was the only non-magical stallion left in Beqanna.

“Oh, da-” He never got the word out. What felt like snakes writhing around his limbs and wings were actually the vines, no doubt brought to life by the horse he couldn’t see, and the moment Kestrell reacted to their movement she must’ve given them a tug.

They untangled quickly, dropping the heavy pegasus a few feet closer to the ground.

“Okay ow, for starters.” He twirled, halfway undone from the restraints. Three of his legs were still bound together, but his wings were flapping freely in a frail attempt at straightening himself out.

Kestrell leaned with his head angled toward the jungle floor, and smiled encouragingly at Areane every time she swung into his line of sight.

“But also I’d like to comment on how fantastic…” he spun away, then came back around, “…your timing is. I mean I could’ve lost a limb…”

The spinning was slowing down.

“…I’m also called Kestrell, by the way.” He shook the free hoof at her like a little wave, and tried to stem the pain that was beginning to really just radiate on his bad side. The effort started to make him sweat again.

“What do you think? One more good tug?” He grimaced hopefully.

Image ©Karl Martens

@Areane

[Areane]

so i had done wrong but you put me right
my judgement burned in the black of night

Areane had yet to learn the wide variety of magicks that existed in their world. Her familiarity with it went only as far as her family: both her brother and mother were manipulators of light, while her father had no traits to speak of. And even with her own gift - the one she uses now on the tri-colored pegasus that dangles above the jungle floor in a cluster of live, writhing vines - it was no easy thing (for her) to convince Kestrell’s captors that they even wanted to come down.

Her thoughts are so focused on that it leaves little room for anything else.

She closes her amethyst eyes, finding it easier to concentrate that way. The winged horse becomes a distant, muttering entity while she tries to imagine the souls dwelling within the creeping plants. They wanted light, some part of her sensed (or perhaps she felt their craving for it), the natural order of their world was to twine towards the sun, not to come away from it.

"Sorry!" she chimes up to him, trying to keep her focus on the constricting plants and this strange bond that suddenly seems to exist at the edge of her mind. But it is hard to keep with the jarring movement taking place above her speckled head, and the young pegasus tilts it up to see a dizzying blur of black-and-white feathers.

"You could still lose a limb," Areane warns him while eyeing the waving hoof. "If you could just -," Not flail like a drowning badger. "Trying drawing your wings up if you can. It might help settle your weight."

And then she shuts her eyes again, fighting her own inexperience, trying to summon that one good tug to bring him to the ground.

@Kestrell