the Rift

[PRIVATE] !! Collide [Riven]

Noxia Posts: 10
World's Edge Mare
Mare :: Equine :: 14.3hh :: 3 years (born Tallsun || Year 5)
And it only hurts when I'm breathing
My heart only breaks when it's beating
It wasn't safe, it wasn't safe, it wasn't safe. That was about all that she could think as she ended up getting her hooves to start moving away from the border, and towards the meadow that was near the World's Edge. It would be fine. It would be fine. It would be fine. Yeah. No. Still not safe. Still definitely not safe. But she was here. Definitely here. Sitting in the open. But it was closer to her old life, or at least what she recalled of her old life.

Though, it was finally beginning to get cooler. The air was softening and the heat fading away. This was the time of year that she really enjoyed. The cool air beginning to nip at her skin and she almost cowered more under her long locks in order to hide from the way it picked at her.

Oh. You'll live. You're used to this. This was what you had to deal with during the six months of travel here. You just don't remember it happening. Geeze. I wish you would just recall it so I didn't have to facepalm at your confusion all the time.

Still, for now, she found the most secluded area - one that had a small oak tree near the river - and allowed her body to collapse beneath the branches. Perhaps she could get some rest - allow her mind to finally stop running at a thousand miles an hour - and not have the anxiety levels tipping the scale. After all... just too many new faces... too many things to learn. Too much. Too much. Too much.

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Noah Posts: 59
Aurora Basin Soldier atk: 4.5 | def: 7.5 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.3 :: 3 HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE
A restless heart and erratic internal compass demand a brief and random deviation west during their adventure beyond the basin’s snow-capped walls. While the onset of Orangemoon rusts the emerald foliage of scattered oaks and the long, golden meadow grass, both bound to earth, the heavy stallion descends in long gliding circles, smoothly above. He and Nora have been travelling for hours, yet this time, the wellbeing of the pretty dove and her need to rest (whether she suffered or not), stands strongly in the forefront of his mind. The course of a winding river snakes below and it was towards this which his direction is aimed - a source of refreshment, both for their minds and their bodies.

Large, round, sturdy hooves collide with the ground at a thunderous canter and he works with vigorous strides to collect and slow his gait to a walk; it is well that the vicinity is so open, for he covers much terrain in the effort. Crisp white feathering swirls and streams in the slipstream of his swift, powerful motion, of the wings that beat and then tuck, before falling into a motionless skirt about each of his thick ivory pillars when at last he is stopped. With pumping, uplifted nostrils he surveys the area, drinking long laboured gulps of the cool, fresh air until the frenzied recovery of his billowing lungs has eased. At first he overlooks the retired figure of a woman, nestled in seclusion beneath the sprawling, amber arms of an oak - he seeks sign of danger first and foremost, and that she is not.

Trembling legs brush through the wind-tossed field as he doubles back towards the water, while thistles and spurs gather in the magnificent length of his soft flaxen tail; care of outward appearance is not a trait his personality favours, so he barely notices the kinks and knots that quickly form therein. The shadow of his dove sails over and Noah lifts his stark turquoise gaze towards the heavens. Her comely figure attracts his interest to linger until it passes above the stranger’s oak; his gaze suddenly descends as branches and leaves shatter the enticing, romantic image of her underside, to alight upon the almost monochrome (though perfectly lovely) features of the other. ”Oh…” startled thoughts erupt into blunt action from his lips. ”I didn’t…”

But there is more to the picture - he is perceptive, quick to unravel the truth carved anxiously into her expression (even as she appeared to rest).

”Miss, are you hurt?” The voice bears a note of soft reasurance, and as much show of benevolence as he can muster. Knees remain stiff, bearing his weight in place with a sound distance between them, and his ears flicker uncertainly as the wind whispers through the grass beyond; Nora would soon land. Too concerned for the welfare of the collapsed, vivid eyes wait gently upon her, searching artfully for trace of blood or ailment (the shifting weather often invited a brew of bacteria to life); yet for all of the small, elegant creature in view, there seemed to be naught but a savage fray of stress. Taking a tentative step towards her, he lowered both face and feather to appear less imposing - perhaps the method he should have used when he had first found his dove in a similar state…
I was born a warrior
I was born a warrior
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Noxia Posts: 10
World's Edge Mare
Mare :: Equine :: 14.3hh :: 3 years (born Tallsun || Year 5)
It was a good dream, albeit a horrible time to be dreaming. She was back with her mum and pa. One was working at the knots in her mane from having run through some bushes and getting tangled in them. The other was massaging her hindquarters where she had pulled a muscle attempting to get away from the monster bushes that were going to eat her. Yes, there had been some chastising, but such talk was over now. In fact, now it was a comfortable silence - one which wanted to lull her deep into a sleep that Mr. Sandman would certainly approve of. The gentle breeze of the Thistle Meadow only added to the comfort that spanned across her limbs as she twitched into a slightly more comfortable position and slammed her back up against the trunk of the tree.

Yet, it was the slamming of her back against the tree which startled her away. Her head shoots back up instantly, eyes widening before she realized it had just been a dream and she allowed her head to fall back onto her knees. Noxia had allowed her eyes to fall shut once more - hoping and praying that she would return to the peaceful dream just one more time - when the sound of something at the nearby river caused her to freeze in place. Her breathing stopped - eyes widening and ears perked to attention.

Yay. Someone else to appease me. I mean, geez. It was getting boring here dealing with you and your fantasy of having your parents be here. It is totally not going to happen darling. Sorry - not sorry.

His voice is what shatters the idea that such an existence could be a part of her dream. Though, she cannot quite say she is as surprised about his wings as she was about those upon Lyanna's back when they first met. So, it was wasn't just an outlying abnormality that one had wings in these lands. Perfect. Great. Joy. Fun. Not. None of those words described it, but she was going to have to learn to deal with it anyway.

He doesn't advance. In fact, he stays a good distance away. Then, when he takes that one step forward he does so with a lowered face and his wings closed - no longer a large imposing image. Though she will admit, he was still definitely very large and very imposing. She is intrigued by the crème colours of his coat which were accented by the gold a top.

Yo. Dimwit. He spoke to you. He asked you a question! I swear. Major facepalm moment here. Do I have to wave my hands in front of your face to get your attention? Oh wait, that's right. You can't hear me. I'm just here so the readers get a laugh. Awesome. Great. Love it.

Golden wings. Noxia's blue eyes trail across the lines that the feathers make until she reaches the primary feathers. It was then that she finally connected the dots between the voice and the words. You see, she had heard the voice but not fully comprehended the words which had fallen from his lips. Was she hurt? Oh. Uh. Was she? Anxiety kicking back in she scrambles to her feet - eyes searching every inch of her body for some sign of injury, though all she sees is her mess of a mane and tail clinging to her limbs and starting to knot. "Uh. No. I... I don't... I'm pretty sure I'm not..." she finally stammers out - baby blue eyes wide like a doe's as she stares toward his towering figure and accidentally backs up into the oak behind her and causes herself to shoot forward a couple of steps. That, in fact, awkwardly places her within half of the wing's reach. Except, now, she was too startled to move back any. So she stood there, head lowered and eyes wide hoping that nothing crazy would end up happening next.
and you can't tell, I'm scared as hell
'cause I can't get you on the telephone
so just close your eyes. Well honey, here comes your lullaby
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