the Rift

why does my heart keep shaking;

Giselle Posts: 1
Mare :: Unicorn :: 14.1 hh :: 8 years

왜 맘이 맘이 자꾸 흔들리니

It was dangerous here, this much she knew.

For someone who could not see to be trapped in a place overflowing with hidden dangers and magic, she was as good as dead. Her nares were filled with the scent of cedar, her ears ringing with the sound of birds chirping, the overall atmosphere overwhelming her senses and making her nauseous with the sensation of vertigo. Shaking her already-tousled mane, the pale mare began to take small hesitant steps forward, muzzle extended, before a voice jarred her frame to a halt.

Big sister, over here!

No, it couldn't be.





"ENOUGH!" the blind ess shouted, enraged with the tricks the forest was playing with her. How dare it - she had been searching for her little brothers for four years. It wasn't that simple, they couldn't just turn up that easily. But she was angry at herself for believing it, if only for a moment. And beneath her hidden rage was an amount of fear that could not quite be quelled; the forest made them out to be..... ghost-like. Her skin quivered, her breath coming out in strained huffs, her audits flickering about uneasily. She wanted to move, but it seemed her heart and her brain did not have the same idea, and her feet were planted firmly in the same spot they were several moments before.

Perhaps, in the end, becoming a sitting duck was just as dangerous as becoming a moving target. Something slick slowly wrapped itself around her ankle, and curiously, she bent her head down to brush her nose across it before a wary snort was given. It was cool to the touch, the telltale ridges of scales rubbing the velvet of her skin the wrong way, and she quickly realized it was a snake. A soft hiss confirmed her suspicions, and, fighting her instinct to jerk backwards, she slowly tucked her head to her chest, sorrel-rimmed ears pinned directly against her cranium. After a moment's notice, she quickly flung her hoof out, sending the reptile away from her before quickly striking in its general vicinity. A few meek rattles were given before she concluded the serpent was dead, and instantly she felt sorrow for the poor creature. It probably was just seeking warmth - it was rather cold in this part of the forest. Suddenly, she was all alone, and all she wanted to do was go home.

But where was home? She didn't have one, not since her parents died and her brothers - no, she refused to believe they were anywhere but here. Because they were here, they were alive, they were out there somewhere, waiting for her to find them. She had to hurry. A pang shot through her heart, and the antlered molly began to trek onward into a new world with a toss of the head and a flick of the tail.

Tiamat the Ocean's Light Posts: 360
Aurora Basin Lady atk: 8 | def: 10 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.2 :: 6 years HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Nimue :: Common Orca Leviathan :: Boil Reli
Well my heart is bigger than the earth—
The oceanic pair finds themselves in Helovia’s Threshold on this beautiful Orangemoon day—both flush with excitement. With the arrival of autumn, comes the beginning of her first ever Aurora Basin festival—and Tiamat can hardly wait! Her muscles are practically bubbling in anticipation of the event, sure that it will be a joyous success. There is a spring to her step as she dances through the trees, laughing breathlessly while her doe-eyes roam the forest, searching for any sign of company.

Suddenly, a voice shatters through the fragile silence—a single, unintelligible word that reverberates between the wooded trees, sending several small flocks of birds fluttering from the leafy boughs. Tiamat pauses mid-step, a cloven hoof hovering over the grass, white eyes sweeping through the marbled shadows. “Did you here that, Nim?” The ocean mare turns to her young companion, sapphire nostrils curling and a dainty ear slanting as she tries to identify the source. The Leviathan moves closer to her bonded, a fin brushing against her sloped shoulder while large, ice-blue eyes stare with barely-concealed caution.

It is her bonded’s composure that keeps Nimue from squealing in fright—for while the world is certainly wrought with black secrets and devious shadows, the blue Mender remains as a beam of light in the darkness: ever-burning with hope and confidence in the goodness of those around her. She does not bristle with caution at the strange sound (perhaps foolishly so) but is compelled by her curiosity instead.

Leaning a step forward, she continues to inspect the forest around her. Catching the muted thrum of hoof beats, Tiamat quickly turns her doe-eyes in the general direction, catching a flash of white through the earthen hues. “Hello?” She calls in her airy, soprano voice, the length of her leonine tail swaying behind her as she pursues the stranger. Whickering gently to her orca companion, the oceanic pair move in synch, Nimue slowing a little to hover at the blue mare’s flanks when they catch sight again of the unfamiliar equine.

With her pale eyes brightening in excitement (ever eager to build new friendships), Tiamat offers a kindly whinny as they approach, catching up at a trot before halting with a billowing of hair and chiming shells. An honest smile breaks widely across velvet lips, and she extends her muzzle towards the mare in greeting. “Hi there! My name is Tiamat,” she breathes happily, and then looks to her face and takes note of the mare’s eyes. Hidden beneath tangled curls, it is murky where it should be bright, and although she is well aware of the abnormalities in Helovia, Tiamat’s healing experience leads her believe that, perhaps, this one is blind.

Without skipping a beat, the blue Mender pushes her muzzle forward more, slowly, to gently brush against the other’s, in order to make clear her friendly gesture. She breathes from her nostrils, her smile as soft as her breath. “Are you alright?” It is an inquiry not only of politeness, but also of genuine concern. Tiamat remembers her own first day in Helovia, and how disorienting a whole new world can be. She is eager to offer aid in any way she can.

notes; Welcome to Helovia!:) would you like to be tagged?
Nimue reference <3

@Giselle | image credits
please tag Tia in all replies!
magic & force are permitted.

Maren the Crownless Posts: 264
Outcast atk: 5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.0 :: 6 HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE
Mr. Teatime :: Siberian Tiger :: Sing Yewrezz


The fog oozed forward, soothingly tangling its damp paws on the shadowed moss. Mr. Teatime clawed the trees he passed, seemingly content with the forever curling and dancing whiteness around him. Maren watched him, smiling as the positive stream of his emotions unburdened her thoughts. Autumn had come and the leaves of summer were letting go of their branches, falling down in their bright colored rustiness, swirling in their motion; much like feathers, but louder.


She felt her tiger companion looking up at her, and she turned her gaze to him. His eyes lay sharp in her stare and she felt his words in her mind for the first time, perhaps. Sounds, was the only thing she heard. Loud — then he ran off, his jumps more powerful now that he had grown in age and muscle, to investigate. Maren could do nothing other than follow him (or at least that’s how she felt), letting the sea of dancing fog and shadowy trees behind her and letting her hoofs lead her.  

She scanned the area around her as her hoof beats echoed dully into the forest floor, the shifting canopy above her throwing patches of sun and shadow as she went. Then, trotting into a clearing surrounded by large trees, stood two pretty mares around which Mr. Teatime was already circling, perhaps scanning if they were okay. Her pace slowed as she drew closer, until she halted next to them, just in time to hear the sea-blue mare saying her name. Maren’s golden eyes were silent as she looked from the one mare to the other, not knowing either and wondering if she was interrupting something or not. “Excuse me, my companion heard someone scream.” Her words were rather dry, perhaps not as uneasy as she could have sounded, had there truly been something wrong. Her silent gaze traveled to the pale mare. Her coat seemed pristine and clear like snow, except from the patch of brown shadowing her face, but Maren was most intrigued by her antlered crown, which weren't common among the Dragon's Throat's inhabitants — Perhaps this girl is new to Helovia, the thought breaking her pondering and fueling her interest in this random meeting.

Meanwhile, Mr. Teatime has found himself distracted by the blue whale, following the girl-who-looks-like-the-sea, and sweeps his tail at it playfully.

The blue mare had a friendly ringing to her voice and Maren remembered to at least try her best to mirror that as well. She scraped her throat. “Let me introduce myself, I am the Diviner of the Dragon’s Throat, Maren. That is Mr. Teatime,” she pointed with one of her feathered fingers, after which her wings nestled themselves against her mane once more. “You do look alright,” she helped herself to adding, quite matter-of-factly and unable to conceal the slight judging tone to her voice. There was no excuse. As much as she'd liked to try, she wasn't nice. She rather did not pretend to be, either, and if this mare couldn't handle a few uncomfortable blisters on her behind, she wasn't going be the right material to become a desert dweller, anyway.

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Hi! Welcome!! Excuse Maren, she's always a bit of a stick-in-the-butt ><
Please tag me 

Misael Posts: 97
Outcast atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.3 HH :: 7 years HP: 69 | Buff: NOVICE
Lazarus :: Melanistic Lion :: None ShadowMare

There is an ache within him to free himself of the bounds of the desert, spending too much time thinking and not near enough doing. He felt crushed by his blazing desire to do, an oxymoron within the own clockworks of his mind. Miseal had work to do, the spies needed leading and teaching, the DT was a mess of changing leadership and Gaucho...Gaucho was gone. The Dragon's Throat was having a rough time to say the least.

So he traveled. He left his home, determinded to still do, but to escape the bounds of sorrows within the sandy walls of the throat. He loved it there, owed everything he had to it's sand dunes and sunrises, so he set out to find those to bring with him home, if he was failing at doing everything else, at least this, this he would be good at. Lazarus releases a growl into the day, attracting Miseal's attention to the mumbling in the distance. He sends the hunter forwards, following closely behind with long, loud strides (it was never easy to hide the steps of a man of his size) cautiously approaching the scene.

Golden orbs settle upon three woman, Maren, who he offers a soft grin was a fellow friend whom he cared about, a lovely woman indeed. The other blue woman, Miseal vaguely remembered from a scene that he prefers not to think about, but he offered a kind smile nonetheless. The last woman, purely white with a bayed face and antlers, Miseal dips his large crowned cranium to, "Welcome, Miseal and Lazarus here, Sleuth of the Dragon's Throat."

talk talk talk


quote quote quote

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Please tag in all posts, all force is permitted

[Image: shadowmare098_by_ehrendi-da6sr2s.png]

Syrena Posts: 207
Dragon's Throat Forger
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.1 hh :: 7 years
Thelxiepeia :: Royal Rougarou :: Water Kyra

She comes back to the Threshold. Again. It’s a place she seems to spend far too much time in with far too little to show for it. Apparently she’s stubborn, because she keeps coming back anyway. Or bored. Or restless. Or some combination of all these things. Whatever the reason, she’s here, thankful that it’s cool now at least. Because the walk in Tallsun really sucked. So, so much. She’s a creature of the sea, not land, and hot and sun are really not her thing.

It doesn’t take long in the Threshold for a scream to catch her attention. Well, that’s interesting, she thinks. It’s not the appropriate response. The appropriate response would be concern, would be to kick into action to make sure whoever was screaming was okay. Instead, Syrena meanders toward the source of the sound, moving no faster than she ever does. By the time she gets there, it’s already a crowd. Tiamat, who she recognizes from their meeting by the sea. Not of the sea, but certainly adopted by it. That’s where their similarities end, but still, she likes the mare simply for that one fact alone.

The other two introduce themselves – Maren and Misael – she barely bothers to learn their names, let alone their companions. Both are from the Throat. Well, that’s just overkill, but whatever. “Not all hurts are worn on the outside,” she says flatly, mostly directed at the mare with the wings behind her ears. She’d judge that, but she’s the queen of useless color changing magic, so she can’t fault someone else’s useless traits. “Syrena, from the Hidden Falls.” she adds, remembering her manners (vaguely). She doesn’t ask if the mare is alright. The question has already been asked, she suspects, given the ear winged mare’s remark. Instead she falls silent, waiting, as she always does.

les words "chat chat"


let the water take me

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Magic use/power playing is okay, but check before serious injury/death
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