the Rift

[PRIVATE] the blood on my hands scares me to death

Hotaru the Valkyrie Posts: 295
Outcast atk: 7 | def: 10.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3hh :: 6 Years 3 Months HP: 67 | Buff: NOVICE
Alice :: Royal Hellhound :: Acid Brit
and Alice

"Try watching your mentor die for the greater good...Faelene was her name. You never knew her and you will never amount to who and what she was."

"She's dead," was whispered into the frosted air, a conflicted whirlpool of emotion imprinted into the bicolored jewels that vapidly judged the crystal cloud that formed around each word. Alice whined at her heel, unsure how to deal with the maelstrom of emotion that had unleashed itself inside the young girl. Hotaru did nothing to quiet or comfort her, the pair treading onward, through the snow drifts. All that was left behind was a staggering, formless trail of hoofprints. With no real goal, no purpose, it swayed to and fro in purposeless snaking patterns. She had whispered her goodbyes, with promises of impending return, to little upturned faces and quiet, blinking eyes. Her legacy, so young - the only ones that seemed to matter, that seemed to stay.

Hotaru had searched for her godmother for seasons, had valiantly attempted to win back her armor from Elsa when she was but a babe on her own in the wilderness. The last tie to her family, the only one who knew her father from before his descent into a madness only Phaedra and sometimes Hotaru could penetrate. She'd been there to see Hotaru come into the world, had been irrevocably tied into her family's history for as long as Tolio and Phaedra had been involved. The two had never even met, not formally, and to hear the news of her death in such a callous had left the fae reeling, desperately attempting to find her footing, no matter the elegance she tried to summon to deal with the fallout that was based on herself. A private sort of destruction, loss.

But she'd also had a subconscious purpose and direction to her wandering, to her traipsing through the cold, a lonely figure draped in memories of warm sunsets. Ophelia. Arah's words had splintered doubt and defiance into her heart in equal measure, and the longing she had felt watching the Forsaken walk away from her - again, forever, because Hotaru could never seem to catch up - had not diminished after the mildly disastrous herd meeting. She needed to know, needed to hear...


The snow shuffles on errant wind, invisible caresses caught in her mane and tail, arid and unfamiliar. The southwestern borders of the Edge. Her mouth is dry, throat convulsing. Her heart is torn and convoluted, and she can almost still feel the Goddess supporting her with her wind as Hotaru had been jostled about. Lifted, cared for, settled carefully down upon her hooves like nobody had ever done for her before. Hotaru had learned from her first breath that standing was something she always had to do on her own. And Thranduil...gods she was a mess. Undeserving of everything she'd been given, everything Ophelia had trusted in her command and control. Love. Ophelia had left for personal reasons, had she not? And Hotaru still remembered Thranduil's blank eyed stare, the way he rejected her confession in body more so than in his halted words. What is she doing here? I need to know. She needed answers to so many things, needed to know if she was capable of bearing the burden Ophelia had placed upon her shoulders.

Alice lifted her crown obligingly, a young but unbroken howl escaping past her teeth, louder than any call that Hotaru could have managed on her own trembling vocal chords. But she tries nonetheless, her voice calling into the snow-laden forest in a measure that was useless in all but her heart. "Ophelia?"

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::Strong like the sea is stormy::

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Tamme the Tempting Posts: 140
Mare :: Other :: 2 :: 2 HP: 9001 | Buff: Admin
Keeping this alive

Brit Posts: 11
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Mare :: Other :: 15hh :: 19
Pulled to restart

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