12-06-2016, 01:41 AM
(This post was last modified: 12-06-2016, 02:18 AM by Potion|Ecco.)
POTION & ECCO
They mustn’t forget, he croons, voice like a hot knife through a stick of golden butter. Against her grayed coat he had draped a lavender tinted wing, cloaking her in feathers as if to coax her like a babe. Words whispered into her gray ears, passing tendrils and wisps of lavender hair to make their way down the canal and to her mind. Go to to them my daughter, make them remember, make them see. Let the world once again recall my name, let them pull their children close and their daughters closer. Let them know that I remain, let them trace my name in their thoughts once more.
As if she needed convincing, as though she must be begged or goaded to do his bidding. That’s all she had ever done, all they had all ever done and the way of their world was not like to end now. Yes of course Father would remain on that Mountain, for now. Sitting atop the lush hillsides like an emperor too grand to be bothered with leaving his throne but that’s what Kirin had kids for- so, so many young ,moldable things. Things to do what he could not be concerned with himself and why should he? He need not lift a finger to wield power and so he did not. Kirin, though relatively large in the great scheme of the world, had nary a reason to rely on brawn, or brute strength. (But being tall and well built had of course not gone amiss when needed) No, his nature and gifts were much more devious than that.
And of course the greatest of them all were held in vessels of his own creation- in the babes that sprang from his loins and littered the realm with a splash of the color purple. Potion was no exception, smiling a small but sly smile as she dipped her head and flicked her lavender tail as she departed down the Mountain. Not alone, never alone because for all the things she entrusted to her dear ol’ Dad, she did not bequeath him her daughter. Regardless of how or why the girl had come about was of no importance when all was said and done, the once buckskin mare was far too intelligent to even allow the chance for error on that matter. She was her Mother after all, and she took to the title with nothing less than a regard of responsibility and love. So, instead of single handedly restoring the name of Kirin among the whispered woes of the world, she would be assisted by her own foul, and terrifyingly beautiful creation.
Thus the two women crept down the craggy slope, grey legs trembling as they skittered against uneven ground. A daunting resemblance in the two, both a cloudy gray base with hair like misty lavender. The color crept up their points too, faded from years passed, yet they were unnervingly young. There was an ethereal way about them, faces untainted by the ravage of time, yet the eyes held a different truth. Settled in at the physical appearance of 5 and no more. Among all the similarities there was only one difference and even still it was slight, Ecco was more waifish than her Dam, (if just by a hair) but most could not even tell unless they knew them well (few knew them at all to be sure).
Eventually the hills ended, the slopes became less perilous until they dropped off and thickened into wood. There they rested, swaying into the copse of trees and finding the thick patches of grass filling but bitter compared to the sweetness of that which grew by magic on the Mountainside. Ecco flicked her tail in thought as she chewed, taking in the surroundings of the early morning scene. Fog draped itself lovingly against the earth, adding a sense of witchery to the picture, caressing the mares as it gently whispered against their hocks. “It's practically suffocating Mother,” Ecco remarked as she finished a bite, clearly unamused by the closeness of quarters. Her voice was a gentle tinkle against the wind, yet like a chill in the air it held its own bite. “And what do you know of suffocation Ecco?” the elder replied, a sternness to her own gentle vocals, lulling to the ears like the lapping of the ocean against the shore.
As if she needed convincing, as though she must be begged or goaded to do his bidding. That’s all she had ever done, all they had all ever done and the way of their world was not like to end now. Yes of course Father would remain on that Mountain, for now. Sitting atop the lush hillsides like an emperor too grand to be bothered with leaving his throne but that’s what Kirin had kids for- so, so many young ,moldable things. Things to do what he could not be concerned with himself and why should he? He need not lift a finger to wield power and so he did not. Kirin, though relatively large in the great scheme of the world, had nary a reason to rely on brawn, or brute strength. (But being tall and well built had of course not gone amiss when needed) No, his nature and gifts were much more devious than that.
And of course the greatest of them all were held in vessels of his own creation- in the babes that sprang from his loins and littered the realm with a splash of the color purple. Potion was no exception, smiling a small but sly smile as she dipped her head and flicked her lavender tail as she departed down the Mountain. Not alone, never alone because for all the things she entrusted to her dear ol’ Dad, she did not bequeath him her daughter. Regardless of how or why the girl had come about was of no importance when all was said and done, the once buckskin mare was far too intelligent to even allow the chance for error on that matter. She was her Mother after all, and she took to the title with nothing less than a regard of responsibility and love. So, instead of single handedly restoring the name of Kirin among the whispered woes of the world, she would be assisted by her own foul, and terrifyingly beautiful creation.
Thus the two women crept down the craggy slope, grey legs trembling as they skittered against uneven ground. A daunting resemblance in the two, both a cloudy gray base with hair like misty lavender. The color crept up their points too, faded from years passed, yet they were unnervingly young. There was an ethereal way about them, faces untainted by the ravage of time, yet the eyes held a different truth. Settled in at the physical appearance of 5 and no more. Among all the similarities there was only one difference and even still it was slight, Ecco was more waifish than her Dam, (if just by a hair) but most could not even tell unless they knew them well (few knew them at all to be sure).
Eventually the hills ended, the slopes became less perilous until they dropped off and thickened into wood. There they rested, swaying into the copse of trees and finding the thick patches of grass filling but bitter compared to the sweetness of that which grew by magic on the Mountainside. Ecco flicked her tail in thought as she chewed, taking in the surroundings of the early morning scene. Fog draped itself lovingly against the earth, adding a sense of witchery to the picture, caressing the mares as it gently whispered against their hocks. “It's practically suffocating Mother,” Ecco remarked as she finished a bite, clearly unamused by the closeness of quarters. Her voice was a gentle tinkle against the wind, yet like a chill in the air it held its own bite. “And what do you know of suffocation Ecco?” the elder replied, a sternness to her own gentle vocals, lulling to the ears like the lapping of the ocean against the shore.
dont you open up that window, dont you let out that antidote
word count: 735 -accrued points: 21 -HTML by Call
idk if i will keep up with this but im at work for 2 week notice and felt like writing- go figure