"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
The trek had been long as she had expected, but, finally, she’s reached a place where there are obvious signs of life. She hurriedly hoists herself out of the water, beetle black eyes scanning the surrounding territory. The scent of horse is everywhere, but she’s disappointed to see that there’s no one nearby, not for the moment anyway.
With a soft sigh, she steps back into the waters of the river, settling her hooves into the soft muck. It’s nice to be on solid land once again. She wonders what the horses here will be like. In her last home, there had been all matter of wonderful creatures. She misses them, but she doubts she will ever see them again. The chances of catching a current that will take her directly back to Relael are slim to none.
She’ll simply have to make do with this new land. Hopefully the inhabitants here are as equally welcoming and friendly.
A small movement suddenly catches her eye, and her head whips about. A rabbit!
Her teeth clink and she salivates, just a bit. She hadn’t fed on the salmon earlier enough to kill it, only to keep off starvation. Another little snack would go a long way. She hunkers down and creeps forward, growing closer and closer to the little rabbit. The creature pays her no mind - Karris smells like a horse, albeit a very odd horse, and all rabbits know that horses aren’t carnivores.
She creeps closer and closer, and then, pounce! Her toothy maw opens and catches the little rabbit on its side. She sucks for a moment, blood dripping down her chin, then releases the animal. She bobs her head in respect to the little animal, though it has already dashed away. “Shanks.” Her little black eyes then glance about, hoping that no one saw her little meal. She certainly doesn’t want the inhabitants of this land to have that as their first impression of her.
watch your tongue or have it cut from your head, save your life by keeping whispers unsaid.
He savors the sweet nectar of the earth as his tongue uncoils and laves gently at the innermost sweetness of a freshly bloomed blossom, its fragile petals encased in dew. Winter had once all but enveloped the land in its icy embrace, swallowing with it the delicate blooms and sweet tendrils of grass, leaving nothing but a thin sheet of ice and its frostbitten devastation in its wake. Now the sun shines, though, peeking between thick, rolling clouds, dousing the otherwise frigid ground with bright rays of sunlight. It leaves behind fertile, moist soil and puddles scattered about, dotting the seascape with its splattering reflections of the sky.
He lets the nectar settle along his taste buds, savoring its sugary delight, his compound eyes unable to blink but instead, he begins to tune out the world. His vision, usually fragmented into pieces, was now blurred as he relinquished himself to his own gluttonous pleasure. There was little he craved more than the intoxicating blend of earth and glucose. In the darkness of winter, he had gotten by only barely with shreds of moist bark and twigs. This experience was a true pulse of pleasure that coursed through his veins, invigorating him, inspiring him.
Each time, it brings him to life, his mind and body full of vim and vigor.
As he withdraws his sated proboscis into his mouth, tucking it within, he pauses to take in his surroundings at last. He focuses his vision, attempting to slowly piece together the image before him: the streams of sunlight, the bright reflection of the water, the growing flora and fauna - and a slim figure in the distance. It is another, not unlike him, and his curiosity is instantaneously piqued. He must know who this creature is - who else would venture so far out into the valley, bathing in the fresh light of morning?
He dared venture closer, his six limbs shifting and moving with an eerie grace as he lowers his gaze, focusing on what he can hear. The gentle squeal of an animal in pain strikes him as odd; the figure before him is clearly like himself in species. It is only when he pauses in the thicket of golden tendrils, which lap softy against his mottled hide, that he is able to take in the full, unadulterated sight of her. Her skin was bare, a dull cream with a blend of smoke - hairless, naked. Her eyes were dark - as dark as his own, if not darker - and her mouth .. there was something peculiar about it, but he does not have to wonder long.
He can see the trickle of blood trailing down her bare flesh, and slowly his wings rise to the side, flaring up in involuntary uneasiness.
He knows not what she is capable of, but he knows he does not want to be her next victim.
"I hope you are not seeking anything else to satiate your unusual hunger. I dare say I would not want your mouth on me - at least not in that manner." He muses, his voice thick and rolling as he speaks deliberately and with dry humor. His muscles remain tense, but he sees her strangeness as intriguing, for he is strange too. His eyes remain as unblinking, iridescent orbs, fluttering about as he takes in the altogether thrilling image of her in.
elysium
no mercy from the edge of the blade, dare escape and learn the price to be paid.
She is hauntingly elegant, carefully sweeping her body between swollen brush and broken branches. Her body holds a certain aura, an aura of gracefulness as it travels along her energy.
It was time, again, to meander from the walls of home and to indulge herself in strangers. She has a thing for strangers, a love for the unknown. Not necessarily the risk portion, but the opportunity to experience something fresh. She has been burdened with a boring life, a boring story, a boring start. With every new face comes a chance to be something more—to be more daring, or at the very least educated.
The meadow greets her like a child returning home for a weekend from college. The familiar scent mixed with new candle aromas (in this case, horses), but yet decorated in the same old fashion it always had been—always will be. The thick trees, rekindling their life after a chilled winter. Blossoming spring flowers attempting to sprout from the iced earth.
A warm gust of air teases her chest in a nourishing way, a motherly touch. For Exemplary, all she has ever known—or rather, ever liked—is here. Growing up her kingdom was not her home but instead her “place”. It didn’t have the welcoming scent, the moistening air, or the familiar setting. It was hot and dry, with sand that clung to every which way and horses whom never learned her name. It wasn’t home. It was a temporary boarding facility with an uncanny resemblance to the Sahara.
It takes a majority of the afternoon before she stumbles upon an odd pair. The mare smells of unfamiliarity, not even a scent resembling a far away kingdom or herdland. The mare is dosed in an alienated aroma that makes Exemplary more envious than curious. What would it be like to submerge yourself in a land you weren’t born to? To have the opportunity travel elsewhere in hopes of something better?
She wouldn’t know, she doesn’t have the guts to.
He, however, is sporting the masculine cologne of Beqanna. He was decorated in fancy anatomy that certainly most would judge, however she is unsure of whether to be disgusted or in awe. Traits, they were another thing to envy and even more so something she was not fortunate enough to have. Not even the pretty cosmetic ones.
Well, she doesn’t have any traits that she knows of.
03-06-2016, 02:43 AM (This post was last modified: 03-06-2016, 02:45 AM by Karris.)
i'm waiting for this sky to fall, i’m waiting for a sign. i know you're out there; somewhere out there.
Well shoot. Someone had seen. But oh … what a someone.
Her little black eyes widen at the sight of the creature that strides towards her across the grassy plain. Karris has seen strange beasts before (she’s met a freaking radish horse for gosh sakes!), but this creature is nothing like anything she’s ever seen.
Her eyes linger on his fragile, paper thin wings, on his six legs, on his long nose, his antennae, and most especially on his large, glittery dark eyes. So unusual, so unique.
She can’t help but prance a little on the spot in excitement.
Of course, he’s not nearly as excited. He’s still focused on her little feeding display.
Karris’ little head hangs, trying to hide her rows of serrated teeth as she speaks. “No! No! Not horshe. Horshe not … ‘rey. Only … shall … shall …” Her mouth works in frustration. Words have always been tricky for her - a curse of her circular mouth. “Only shall tings ‘rey.”
Her mouth finally closed, she peers up at the creature in open curiosity. She’s used to the strange and unusual - but this creature is a particular fascinating type of strange and unusual. “Hchh …” She grunts in frustration. She wants to say ‘what,’ but her lips can’t properly form the ‘w’ sound. “Hchh … hchhat you?”
A small noise catches her attention, and her head flicks around to see an ordinary black mare approaching. Her heart sinks. Other oddities are usually quicker to accept her (though even they can have trouble with her blood sucking tendencies), but more ordinary creatures? When they first notice her … they tend to run.
Her little hairless head hangs down, once again trying to hide her circular mouth. She really doesn’t want to scare off potential new friends so early on in this new land. She doesn’t want to be alone again. “Hi. I Karris.”
She forgets herself though when the black mare asks if she’s too late. Ever the curious one, her little grey head pops back up. “Too late? Too late ‘or hchh … hchhat?”
Karris
all we are is all so far.
She has troubles with words that require putting lips together, lol. If you need a translation just let me know.
