12-29-2016, 02:54 PM
he laid low the warriors of old
Rome hardly knows anything that is beyond the lands that stayed after the Mountain had appeared in Beqanna. Curiously, he sought out to start his journey to find out what laid ahead. The lands are mysterious and he wonders what has replaced the old world he grew up in.
He crossed over water and mountains, onto a path that he certainly did not choose for purpose. It was his own hooves that carried him and with his heart that made the decisions which way to go. In fact, it was north of the Mountain that caught his attention. The flat land of forest, colored in bright colors of autumn (reminding him of his mother, Lucrezia), draws his interest. Ever since the day he met, Eight, he has always been drawn forests, particularly the one that stands between the field and meadow.
When he arrives in the autumn colored forest, he is in awe. Rome is so completely unaware that this is Sylva. Sylva meant nothing to him, but if he had known it was his own father’s hand in starting up this land he would be proud. In truth, Rome knows nothing about his true father. He has always been told and believes that Kreios was his father—a decision of his own mother’s creation. Yet, he is in the shadows of this truth and likely will never find out since his real father, Tarnished, is dead and his mother is off somewhere in Beqanna (though he does not search for her as most would have when the old world faded away).
Rome twists and turns around the trees. He is marveled by their height, a story of the Chamber pops up in his head even if he had never seen such trees before. His nutmeg gaze is too distracted to notice the black spotted appaloosa until he looks down from the canopy of trees. Rome smiles shyly at first, a little embarrassed if he is caught in his own world of curiosity. “Oh, hello,” he says warmly. Rome has always been welcoming and friendly to strangers. He is much fascinated by others just as his mother was. He takes a step towards the mare. “I’m Rome,” he adds with a soft smirk.
He crossed over water and mountains, onto a path that he certainly did not choose for purpose. It was his own hooves that carried him and with his heart that made the decisions which way to go. In fact, it was north of the Mountain that caught his attention. The flat land of forest, colored in bright colors of autumn (reminding him of his mother, Lucrezia), draws his interest. Ever since the day he met, Eight, he has always been drawn forests, particularly the one that stands between the field and meadow.
When he arrives in the autumn colored forest, he is in awe. Rome is so completely unaware that this is Sylva. Sylva meant nothing to him, but if he had known it was his own father’s hand in starting up this land he would be proud. In truth, Rome knows nothing about his true father. He has always been told and believes that Kreios was his father—a decision of his own mother’s creation. Yet, he is in the shadows of this truth and likely will never find out since his real father, Tarnished, is dead and his mother is off somewhere in Beqanna (though he does not search for her as most would have when the old world faded away).
Rome twists and turns around the trees. He is marveled by their height, a story of the Chamber pops up in his head even if he had never seen such trees before. His nutmeg gaze is too distracted to notice the black spotted appaloosa until he looks down from the canopy of trees. Rome smiles shyly at first, a little embarrassed if he is caught in his own world of curiosity. “Oh, hello,” he says warmly. Rome has always been welcoming and friendly to strangers. He is much fascinated by others just as his mother was. He takes a step towards the mare. “I’m Rome,” he adds with a soft smirk.
ROME
tarnished x lucrezia