the Rift

[EDGE] bones of a ghost (open!)

Nymeria Posts: 182
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.0
Mare :: Equine :: 16.2hh :: 3 years HP: 69.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Lilómiel :: Plain Black Dragon :: Fire Breath Wanderer

Do you think they'll be expecting us?

Of course not. What reason would they have to expect our return?

Still—aren't you disappointed that our return will be unmet by brother and family?

C'mon Lil. You know me and every turn of my mind. Why would I ever turn my muzzle down at the element of surprise?

Sometimes I forget how old you've become.

Silver mist was rolling in among the trees, illuminated only by piercing shafts of moonlight. The night's liquid darkness lay heavy over the earth, pooling like viscous oil beneath the trees. The two, wolf and lamb (but which was which?) were simply flitting spectres among the vast and unencumbered darkness. They were shadows—stretching and undulating over the earth—accompanied only by the soft and haunting sound of their own breath and the leathery hiss of Lilómiel's wings.

As it always seemed to be, it had been a long time since their last foray into Helovia, even longer since they had met with brother or mother or farther or family. She remembered her nieces and nephews with a sharp eye, naturally; but she found that she cared little and less for the follies of her brother's life. If there was one thing she had found while absent, it was a peace that had settled in her heart and soothed away the aches and pains of her tedious self-absorption and ambition. Her hunger—her rampant and venomous desire, always prevailing—had at long last yielded beneath the embrace of logic and fathomable content.


I don't know.

A hesitation—a pique in curiosity, a knife-edge desire to the tone of his next thought.

Divide and conquer?

Patience, love. We'll see.

You said you'd wait forever... but I blinked, and the world was gone.
image credits

Yes I lied, don't think about you all the time
All my switchblade words ain't aim to cut your sweet delusions

Volterra the Indomitable Posts: 785
Dragon's Throat Sultan atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17'2hh :: 3 HP: 80 | Buff: SENSE
Vérzés :: Common Red Dragon :: Frost Breath & Toxic Breath & Vadir :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Shock Breath Snow

He does not come to the Threshold these days. It is a task best left to his smooth-tongued underlings, and he's rather too busy to dally in such things, as arrogant as that may sound. Volterra is not above recruiting, but he's never been very good at it and there's better things he could spend his time upon. Sparring takes priority; he will not become the greatest warlord in history if he doesn't forgo menial tasks like this in favour of sparring.

Today, he happens to be grazing in the forest just outside the Threshold, a coincidence that could perhaps be referred to as fate. There's a savage, thunderous roar from above and the beast glances upwards to see Vérzés circling frantically around, bellowing and exhaling great plumes of ice. The titan pins his ears, glowering up at the crimson dragon. "Why the noise?" he questions, stern command glowing through the mental words.

Vérzés circles, bellows again, and sends Volterra an image that ejects the thought of everything else on his mind. His massive head is flung up within seconds, his powerful legs turned in the direction that his red dragon bids him. He doesn't think, doesn't question, he just does - because Vérzés's image is of Nymeria, and that transcends anything else. The goliath runs like he's never ran before, his long stride easily twisting him through the trees and undergrowth. Fallen logs are hurdled with impunity and branches that slash his skin are pointedly ignored; nothing else matters, and no force of nature will stop him. Vérzés flies swiftly beside him, his focus as single-minded as Volterra's. Vadir is elsewhere, purging the forest of its prey.

He breaks through the final copse of trees, and sees her for the first time in years. Sweat beads his flesh and his thick, rippling muscles shudder with exertion as he lurches to a halt, his breath haggard but his eyes bright. "Nymeria." Vérzés waves a paw at Lilómiel, seemingly bearing no ill-will towards the black despite the somewhat heated exchange during their bondeds' fight.

Suddenly, the onyx monolith is unsure. Does he approach his sister, plunge his nose into her mane and pull her close, as he wants to do? That, though....that will risk unearthing memories of their last meeting, when she'd offered herself to him on a plate and he'd come so, so close to taking it. The ensuing fight is burnt behind his eyes, and he's loathe to do anything that may cause a repeat of it. Instead he stands his ground and just stares at his skull-face sister, his massive chest still heaving as he catches his breath. They've both grown in the time since they last met; he's bulked out and added countless more scars to his pelt, and she's even more beautiful than he remembers.

"Where have you been?" he demands in that thick baritone of his, his words stern but with an underlying tone of warmth and love.

image credits


[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far  ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]

Tilney Posts: 288
World's Edge Moon Doctor atk: 4 | def: 9 | dam: 6
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2hh :: VI HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Peatree :: Lesser Fruit Bat :: None Neverrmind
and oh, there is more to this life
The inescapable groans from his bonded bounded around his cranium as soon as the creature noted their all-too familiar path. Why Peatree hated the threshold so much was a mystery to all, though in truth Tilney wasn't particularly fond of it either.
'We's ALWAYS going to here!"
As usual, Tilney ignored the bleats and moans, the swoops too.

Lantern lit and bright, Tilney was the first past the treeline, his wary steps and cloven feet taking him slowly over the strange terrain the threshold provided. Reaching out from far away were voices, the kind he could not understand but the kind he wished to add a face to. Newcomers perhaps.
Donned in his dark foliage-coloured cloak, Tilney might appear quite princely were it not for the grime, tears and tatters gathered on the edges of the cloth as it trailed upon the ground with his tail. While his rump, flanks, and most of his ribs were covered by the cloak, his signature tree marking still stood proudly upon his shoulder and neck, even from under the strapping and generous amounts of cloth.

Peatree was the first to approach the strangers, taking his place above the pair upon a high-hanging branch. "Big bones have they on theys faces..." the bat would speak suspiciously to his ginger friend. Tilney, cocking an eyebrow, could already picture one or two faces with such markings that came to mind. As he brushed past a shrub or two, the pair became totally visible.
The first he recognised was Nymeria, a woman who he had met in these woods once before. The other was a man he knew to be as Volterra the Indomitable, one he'd never exactly had words with but had even fought beside when the bone monster marched. It made sense now that he looked at them; clearly brother and sister, or twins no doubt.
"Not a bad night" the stag uttered to them as he stepped unto familiar ground, taking his place to the right of Volterra and smiling gently as his lantern lit their faces.

ooc; so stoked you're back wanda! <3
also let me know if I can have your permission to use Tilneys mind reading magic in this thread!

Wander or Leave
turn in to winter lights

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