04-29-2024, 03:36 PM
Not even he could say what had roused him from his hazy existence. The earthquakes hadn’t done it, or the floods, the tornado, the eclipse, or any number of natural or chaotic-character-caused disasters that had rattled this world since the moment of his birth.
Okay - that makes it sound like he had caused any or all of those disasters which - for the record - he hadn’t even caused a single one of them. His disasters were more of the personal variety and even then they were relatively small in the grand scheme of things.
Whatever the triggering event had been, though, Clopin had crawled his way out of hazy obscurity and was now here. Alive and awake and... relatively interested in re-integrating himself into the world at large. He wouldn't say he was particularly ambitious about doing so - there were no fantastic dreams about becoming king or anything like that. There was not even any intention of swooping into some land and causing political unrest - unless things got really, really boring. He just wanted something new. The absolute vagueness about that desire intrigued him. He would not know until it happened whether he was satisfied with the new thing being something small or something large - for now, the only thing that mattered was that it was different.
There was a general sense that his talents were wasted just harassing his family from time to time and it was time to see what the generations were up to now.
Like any good recluse, Clopin does not just waltz right into the thick of it and try to make a friend with the first horse he sees. He does some reconnaissance first. As a bronze eagle, because even if he's spying he might as well do so in style. In this form Clopin spends a few days soaring around Beqanna. Watching the horses move around in their little lives, being absolutely fascinated by the utter ridiculousness of the coat colours that existed - any and every shade he could ever think of! He was old enough to remember when the population had been various shades of brown, white, and black. And that was about it. It had been shocking to see his first purple horse, or to see the small flecks of colour that decorated his sister’s (and his own) face, but beneath the boughs of one of the oak trees stood a vibrant, galaxy-painted mare and another with flames dancing on the top of their horns walked on by as though this were an every day occurrence.
And, apparently it was.
When Clopin needed a break from spying he would explore. Some lands were familiar, which he appreciated, and others were interesting and new. He spent some time harassing the less-pretty eagles roosting in the mountains, where they were preparing for the coming of spring. One awkward moment occurred where he seemed to be coming in the middle of a mated pair - and he is forced to teleport out of there before he is forced to either choose between them or become a third in their couple.
Without caring where he appears on the other side of the teleport, just so long as it gets him away from the bickering couple, Clopin finds himself flying head-first into a stony ruin. The shock of the impact sends him falling to the earth, landing in the snow and sending a small cloud of flakes up into the afternoon air. He is too stunned to do anything but lay there, wings spread and still in his bronze eagle form, and stare with blurry brown eyes up at the offending structure.
Okay - that makes it sound like he had caused any or all of those disasters which - for the record - he hadn’t even caused a single one of them. His disasters were more of the personal variety and even then they were relatively small in the grand scheme of things.
Whatever the triggering event had been, though, Clopin had crawled his way out of hazy obscurity and was now here. Alive and awake and... relatively interested in re-integrating himself into the world at large. He wouldn't say he was particularly ambitious about doing so - there were no fantastic dreams about becoming king or anything like that. There was not even any intention of swooping into some land and causing political unrest - unless things got really, really boring. He just wanted something new. The absolute vagueness about that desire intrigued him. He would not know until it happened whether he was satisfied with the new thing being something small or something large - for now, the only thing that mattered was that it was different.
There was a general sense that his talents were wasted just harassing his family from time to time and it was time to see what the generations were up to now.
Like any good recluse, Clopin does not just waltz right into the thick of it and try to make a friend with the first horse he sees. He does some reconnaissance first. As a bronze eagle, because even if he's spying he might as well do so in style. In this form Clopin spends a few days soaring around Beqanna. Watching the horses move around in their little lives, being absolutely fascinated by the utter ridiculousness of the coat colours that existed - any and every shade he could ever think of! He was old enough to remember when the population had been various shades of brown, white, and black. And that was about it. It had been shocking to see his first purple horse, or to see the small flecks of colour that decorated his sister’s (and his own) face, but beneath the boughs of one of the oak trees stood a vibrant, galaxy-painted mare and another with flames dancing on the top of their horns walked on by as though this were an every day occurrence.
And, apparently it was.
When Clopin needed a break from spying he would explore. Some lands were familiar, which he appreciated, and others were interesting and new. He spent some time harassing the less-pretty eagles roosting in the mountains, where they were preparing for the coming of spring. One awkward moment occurred where he seemed to be coming in the middle of a mated pair - and he is forced to teleport out of there before he is forced to either choose between them or become a third in their couple.
Without caring where he appears on the other side of the teleport, just so long as it gets him away from the bickering couple, Clopin finds himself flying head-first into a stony ruin. The shock of the impact sends him falling to the earth, landing in the snow and sending a small cloud of flakes up into the afternoon air. He is too stunned to do anything but lay there, wings spread and still in his bronze eagle form, and stare with blurry brown eyes up at the offending structure.
1/2 for an autoquest
and also open for anyone to reply to!