10-11-2020, 07:33 PM
I got extra feelings
Yanhua wished he couldn’t interpret emotions sometimes. How nice would it be to guess? How wonderful not to have the mystery unraveled, but conclude feelings from body language alone! He’d spent lots of time watching other horses, had seen their frowns and smiles, plenty of carefully constructed expressions that hid a horse’s deeper feelings perfectly well, and Yan was certain that without his echos to guide him he’d be totally oblivious. He would’ve missed the way Borderline shook her exquisite head and dismissed the way her blue forelock shaded her downcast eyes as shyness. Instead, Yan felt the echo of her concerns like a brief image in his mind - Nashua, frowning - and remembered that his brother had been especially concerned during that particular memory in time.
From the emotional echo he could guess that Borderline was worried too, but he couldn’t assume what she was worried about.
The way she replied insinuated nothing: she seemed genuinely happy to be welcomed here, and genuinely happy that Yanhua was keeping her company. What, then, had her troubled? He wondered.
That was the hard thing about having a power like empathic echoes; Yanhua couldn’t just pester everyone about their true feelings when he caught onto them, or else he’d frighten and annoy everyone. He could only hope that soon enough, Borderline wouldn’t feel a moment’s hesitation when it came to sharing her feelings with him, openly. In time, Yanhua could earn her trust. Then she might not have any reason to worry at all.
He turned about and leapt away, but kept his curious mind busy trying to figure out the young, blue-haired mystery mare. Borderline took his invitation with a flying buck, then caught Yan’s attention by the way she moved. Her form was pleasing to watch in this way, coiled and dainty as a dancer. Each time she unfurled her legs and took a confident stride, she reminded Yan of a horse swimming out of water. Her canter was a graceful, fluid thing. He might’ve watched her dance all afternoon and into the evening, had she not eventually caught and matched his stride.
Together, the pair moved in tandem among the swath of wide-leaved ferns, and their hoofbeats (muffled by layers of dead pine needles) thundered a pleasant tempo throughout the quiet woods. Others lived here, but aside from himself and his dam Lilliana, Yanhua doubted many residents traveled out this far towards Taiga’s northwest border. The place he led her toward was a segment of woods just a mile or so from the only beach to be found in Taiga, where the deer came on quiet mornings to eat and be lost in the fog.
Past the sea of ferns there was a trickling river, more creek than anything, and Yanhua came to a slow stop near the banks of its shallow water, crunching his split hooves on the pebbled trail leading up to a dry shore. Here was where the deer had trampled a narrow path to cross the water, which was how Yanhua found his way home every time.
“If you can’t remember the path, you should be able to find my scent on that tree.” Yanhua breathed heavily, not quite exhausted but certainly winded from their brisk run through the ferns and hills. He ushered with his horns towards a cluster of cedars (smaller evergreens; they had red bark as well but smelled pungent and grew lower to the earth than the redwoods) where gouges had been dug into the trunks. The large strips of bare tree flesh were from the many hundreds of times Yanhua had sharpened his horns on them, and by now he considered the grove of cedars his calling card. They were the doormat outside of his personal area - a sign for other horses to read and recognize as they wandered Taiga. “The deerpath keeps going across the creek. You can follow that straight to my place.” He smiled, then splashed eagerly into the water to lead the way.
“You’re welcome here whenever you’d like.” Yan offered Borderline as he sloshed across the river and strode up the opposite bank, following the deerpath he’d described to her. The little brown ribbon of trail was a beacon surrounded by green; moss grew nearly everywhere here, and the great redwoods were broken up by large clusters of moss-covered boulders that huddled in groups like old friends. “I have to leave soon - tomorrow, actually - so I wanted you to have a safe, warm place to sleep. Taiga has only one type of real predator, but the wolves won’t come here. I’ve made sure of that.” He turned and winked one blue eye at his lady ward, smirking kindly.
As he finished, Yanhua stopped in the road. The path led to a massive, still-alive redwood covered in vines with roots soaked in moss. Some of its heavy limbs grew lower than normal, easily reached by the more adventurous equine capable of flying or climbing, and it seemed half-grown into a curving hillside. Its foremost roots were tangled up in boulders as well, but those rocks were only lining a doorway covered by thick-hanging ivy. This particular tree was all but hollow at the base, its entryway concealed by the green curtain of living vines, and when a horse passed through they would come to find a large den waiting inside - carved deeper into the hill by some other equine more powerful than Yanhua. His entire family had easily fit into this hollowed out tree when Yan had been a little colt, and it was still large enough to house all three horses comfortably today.
Now that he was older, Yan considered this tree-den his own place. An inherited home passed down to him by luck, full of old memories he cherished. Now Borderline could call it home as well, and perhaps (after a while) they might choose to make their own memories here.
PERSONALITY | HISTORY | REFERENCESFrom the emotional echo he could guess that Borderline was worried too, but he couldn’t assume what she was worried about.
The way she replied insinuated nothing: she seemed genuinely happy to be welcomed here, and genuinely happy that Yanhua was keeping her company. What, then, had her troubled? He wondered.
That was the hard thing about having a power like empathic echoes; Yanhua couldn’t just pester everyone about their true feelings when he caught onto them, or else he’d frighten and annoy everyone. He could only hope that soon enough, Borderline wouldn’t feel a moment’s hesitation when it came to sharing her feelings with him, openly. In time, Yanhua could earn her trust. Then she might not have any reason to worry at all.
He turned about and leapt away, but kept his curious mind busy trying to figure out the young, blue-haired mystery mare. Borderline took his invitation with a flying buck, then caught Yan’s attention by the way she moved. Her form was pleasing to watch in this way, coiled and dainty as a dancer. Each time she unfurled her legs and took a confident stride, she reminded Yan of a horse swimming out of water. Her canter was a graceful, fluid thing. He might’ve watched her dance all afternoon and into the evening, had she not eventually caught and matched his stride.
Together, the pair moved in tandem among the swath of wide-leaved ferns, and their hoofbeats (muffled by layers of dead pine needles) thundered a pleasant tempo throughout the quiet woods. Others lived here, but aside from himself and his dam Lilliana, Yanhua doubted many residents traveled out this far towards Taiga’s northwest border. The place he led her toward was a segment of woods just a mile or so from the only beach to be found in Taiga, where the deer came on quiet mornings to eat and be lost in the fog.
Past the sea of ferns there was a trickling river, more creek than anything, and Yanhua came to a slow stop near the banks of its shallow water, crunching his split hooves on the pebbled trail leading up to a dry shore. Here was where the deer had trampled a narrow path to cross the water, which was how Yanhua found his way home every time.
“If you can’t remember the path, you should be able to find my scent on that tree.” Yanhua breathed heavily, not quite exhausted but certainly winded from their brisk run through the ferns and hills. He ushered with his horns towards a cluster of cedars (smaller evergreens; they had red bark as well but smelled pungent and grew lower to the earth than the redwoods) where gouges had been dug into the trunks. The large strips of bare tree flesh were from the many hundreds of times Yanhua had sharpened his horns on them, and by now he considered the grove of cedars his calling card. They were the doormat outside of his personal area - a sign for other horses to read and recognize as they wandered Taiga. “The deerpath keeps going across the creek. You can follow that straight to my place.” He smiled, then splashed eagerly into the water to lead the way.
“You’re welcome here whenever you’d like.” Yan offered Borderline as he sloshed across the river and strode up the opposite bank, following the deerpath he’d described to her. The little brown ribbon of trail was a beacon surrounded by green; moss grew nearly everywhere here, and the great redwoods were broken up by large clusters of moss-covered boulders that huddled in groups like old friends. “I have to leave soon - tomorrow, actually - so I wanted you to have a safe, warm place to sleep. Taiga has only one type of real predator, but the wolves won’t come here. I’ve made sure of that.” He turned and winked one blue eye at his lady ward, smirking kindly.
As he finished, Yanhua stopped in the road. The path led to a massive, still-alive redwood covered in vines with roots soaked in moss. Some of its heavy limbs grew lower than normal, easily reached by the more adventurous equine capable of flying or climbing, and it seemed half-grown into a curving hillside. Its foremost roots were tangled up in boulders as well, but those rocks were only lining a doorway covered by thick-hanging ivy. This particular tree was all but hollow at the base, its entryway concealed by the green curtain of living vines, and when a horse passed through they would come to find a large den waiting inside - carved deeper into the hill by some other equine more powerful than Yanhua. His entire family had easily fit into this hollowed out tree when Yan had been a little colt, and it was still large enough to house all three horses comfortably today.
Now that he was older, Yan considered this tree-den his own place. An inherited home passed down to him by luck, full of old memories he cherished. Now Borderline could call it home as well, and perhaps (after a while) they might choose to make their own memories here.
@[Borderline] wow I am so sorry this went on forever, but here it is