02-22-2017, 06:20 PM
Kilte
R
the feelin' like you're smilin' even brighter when the weather's shit
P
urpose - what is a life without purpose? One could ask the magicians, the immortal, the angels of the world. Those who live forever - who cannot make friend nor foe, because each and every one dies before they. What sense is there in life, when death never awaits? What is there to do, when nothing is lurking behind you. For Kilter, Death was at his doorstep (or he at Death’s, I suppose) - and still he had no purpose. Still he frolicked like a child, the purpose laying all on Raeg’n, the fire-haired angel. It was she who kept him alive, who kept him growing, who kept him just an inch away from Death.
Kilter had followed obediently - where his Angel went, he followed. Above all else, he trusted in her. As the days passed, blurred like an oil painting across the sky, his old life slowly slipped away. It seemed so long ago, far too long, that he was one with the wolves. The Valley wolves and their magic were most certainly gone by now, running themselves into the ocean, devoured by the mountain, crushed by the unknown. Ruan, that steady soldier amongst the pines, the one to witness his voice - well he was most likely gone too, torn adrift with the old Beqanna gone asunder. His father, his mother, the other two of his trio of triplets - all gone. It was just he and his Angel. And even, on the good days, he forgot that Death lurked. He forgot that the twinge of darkness encroached on his hearth. The day of the blizzard, the day his Angel came to him and wrenched him from Death’s grip, seemed so far away.
Today, it was the meadow. Kilter followed his Angel, as he always did - a new day, a new adventure. They had roamed the deserted lands of Pangea, they had traveled to the coastline of Nerine, they had met in the forest - Beqanna was theirs, and wherever they ached to go, they traveled. As he grew older, Raeg’n grew more lax - Kilter could roam farther, converse on his own, explore the land - but always, when he looked up, she was watching.
Today was no different, as he cavorted through the meadow, there was always his Angel’s eyes upon his back. She was mostly content to graze, to spar with the oaks and redwoods, to watch carefully. But this time, when he looked up from his meandering, his Angel was with someone else - someone who was also watching, nodding towards his silver form. Kilter’s ears perked up, his eyes locking on to the beast in front of his Angel - and quickly decided to make his way over. His ever growing legs brought him quickly across the meadow, and he stopped short in front of Raeg’n, lightly bumping her shoulder with his nose before turning to the stoic, and very large stallion, before him.
“Hello. I am Ruan.” He looks to his Angel, his eyes quizzical, before turning to the dark shadow before them - “And this is my Angel. Who are you?”
eight and topsail’s timid telekinetic