{PRP}Mistaken Identity?{Tove x Veslorurn}

[magnadearel]

Whoan

The world was circling quieter and quieter. It was time for it to sleep. The blood paint stallion lifted his crimson head to peer up at the quiet sky. Most of the birds had flown south already. Only the hearty or the foolishly stubborn remained. He hoped they took heed and left soon.

There was already a thin layer of snow of the ground. It was still a toss up as to whether it would stick or not. He snorted out a breath of steam. His hoof steps fell softly as he paced toward the edge of the graveyard. Golden eyes watched the edge of the forest beyond. He felt restless this day. Veslorurn stamped a hoof. It felt like something was about to happen. But what?

He decided to investigate. Quietly he drifted over to the tree line. The problem with winter was that his pelt was so much more visable! It made him nervous to think a skinwalker might be stalking him. He had to remind himself that he hadn't noticed any walker signs recently.  

[Whoan]

The snow drifts swirled around the delicate looking hind's legs and gently curled glass wings as she picked her careful way across the dying grass. Her sky blue eyes reminded towards the earth as she wandered, not daring to look up lest she meet the gaze of another. Her dreamcatcher chimed lightly as the bells were disturbed by her movement.

Tove suddenly felt a jerk against her curving frozen antlers, the hind startled. She reared up slightly only to tangle herself more in the bare tree. Stomping her cloven hooves she struggled against the tree in an attempt to free herself. Where she normally left no prints, her thrashing dispelled the snow in the area. As soon as her antlers were free, she bolted to place distance.

She stumbled over a stone halting her feverish progress. Eyes wide, frost pouring from her breath, she glanced around the graveyard. A flash of red caught her eye. There was a stallion standing before the tundra spirit. She was at a loss for words, mist causing her hooves to all but vanish from sight. She held her ground though, not wanting to provoke him in any way.

"I'm sorry if I intruded," she murmured in the tiniest of voices.

magnadearel

 

[magnadearel]

Whoan

There was definitely something out here. Veslo could sense it. He also thought he heard the faint sound of bells. Which seemed ridiculous, but he couldn't just dismiss it. His gold eyes thought they caught sight of movement. Some branches were swaying in the distance. He only noticed because he realized the snow had been knocked off of them. Weird. He continued to search.

Veslo paused to scan the area. As he stood still a pale white spirit manifested right before him. The stallion jerked his head back startled by her sudden appearance in front of him. His hooves remained firmly planted though. She was nearly all white, which explained how she'd snuck up through the snow. As he examined her, he realized he couldn't see her hooves. Which meant she was a spirit.

Slowly he shook his head as she spoke aloud. "Do not be sorry fair spirit. Have you come a long way?" He could only assume she was looking for him. Another unfortunate victim of a skinwalker.  

[Whoan]

The white deer blinked a few times thinking carefully of her answer. She took a quick moment to look around at her surroundings instead of the deep red stallion before her. The graveyard was bleak and cold, Tove didn't understand why she was drawn here. Normally she was running the deeper snow drifts where there was little to no contact with others.

"Yes. And no. I tend to simply wander the snow. I like the way the flurries whip up around me," she finally stated with a small twitch of her wings, "Have you?" Her head tilted slightly as she locked eyes with him again. This was the first being she had truly spoken with. The spirit, though soft-hearted, kept to herself normally.

magnadearel

 

[magnadearel]

Whoan

He was slightly surprised by her answer. It seemed he had found one that hadn't been searching for him. Awkwardly he scrapped a hoof in the snow. "I'm sorry for this question, but you weren't killed by a skinwalker were you?" He felt he needed to clarify before he assumed wrongly again. Velso glanced at the snow. She'd be practically invisible in a flurry.

"I'm Velsorurn. Are you alone? Would you care to stop over for the night? I live in this graveyard with my mate. Spirits of those who have been killed by skinwalkers tend to haunt me. I thought you were another, I apologize. I haven't really traveled since I found this place." She looked so much like a spirit.  

[Whoan]

"Killed by a skinwalker? No. I do not remember being killed by anything. I do remember feeling cold once...a long time ago. Now I just feel the heat during the times of the sun's rule...I do not enjoy heat as much as I do this," she answered carefully flaring her delicate wings to the icy air. Prancing in place for a brief moment reviling in the chill, she tossed her head with a small laugh.

Remembering the stallion in front of her, she bashfully calmed down her cheeks flushed. "I am called Tove. I tend to just wander seeing what I can while I can. So...for now I am alone. And even though I am a spirit...of sorts...I won't turn down your offer since I do still need to rest now and again. But I won't haunt you! I promise!"

magnadearel

 

[magnadearel]

Whoan

Veslo regarded the mare thoughtfully. She didn't look like she was from around here. He thought he'd met most of the resident spirits. She hadn't been killed by a skinwalker, and now he wasn't completely sure she really was a true spirit. His mate couldn't see them that he knew, and he couldn't touch them. It was awkward for him to ask to touch her.

The more she talked, the more he doubted his first thought. Although she looked very much like a spirit, she wasn't. At least, not in the terms that he thought of. He had to admit, she was a fair dainty creature. Velso grinned as she pranced. "Something about this time does seem to bring new life to us doesn't it? Maybe it's the fresh crisp air.

"A pleasure to meet you Tove. You would always be welcomed here, even if you decided to haunt me a little." He laughed and turned to head back toward his home. A gold eye glancing out from under his forelock to see if she was coming.  

[Whoan]

"Thank you Velsorurn," she murmured starting to follow the red stallion, his color easy to pick out in the growing frost. Her cloven hooves made no sound nor left any prints keeping the snow that was starting to stick fresh and clean. The aura that splashed across her white form began to become more clear in the dimming light.

"Winter holds wonder I have seen," she finally said after a moment of thick silence, "It is the earth resting in preparation for spring. It almost brings a freedom...I think."

magnadearel

 

[magnadearel]

Whoan

"My pleasure. I don't often get much company here, or any that's willing to stay for long periods." Veslo had to admit he was slightly odd that he lived in a graveyard. Not many were comfortable in maintaining a long term residence near one. Since he was already haunted, he really had nothing to fear.

He was impressed that she left no prints in the snow, while his own hooves left dark holes in the snow. The crimson stallion nodded at her words. "It's waiting with baited breath. However, it also brings hardship for some." Veslo led to a grove of pine trees that he had used as the base for his shelter. The living branches had been woven together as best he could to form a bower. More had been added to fill in the holes and add support. It was cozy enough.

"Where do you go when winter leaves here?"  

[Whoan]

"I follow the cold or become more...ah...solid I guess the word is," Tove replied taking a moment to think of her words carefully. She looked over his home with a small smile playing on her features. It was comfortable looking, very warm and inviting with still being open enough to not feel trapped.

Shaking her antlers, Tove refocused herself. "I do not mind this place. It is sad...in a way...but you seem nice! It overtakes the sorrow of the graves."

magnadearel

 

[magnadearel]

Whoan

He took a few moments to think about her words. "That does explain why I haven't met you before though. Tangible is perhaps the word you're looking for? It strikes me as humorous on your word choice as when I think of something getting warmer, it becomes liquid. Like snow for example." It made more sense if she followed the cold. "Do you spend the summer months up north then?"

Veslo held aside the branches so she could enter easily without scratching herself. "I hope it's not too warm in here for you." He smiled, "thank you. I'm glad my pelt hasn't frightened you. It has some others, and others assume the worst of me because of it. In the spring and summer when there are flowers, I place them at the graves, and in fall twigs of berries." He wrinkled his nose, "but the birds tend to eat the berries. I can't blame them though. They are bright and cheery." In winter it was so hard to find something bright. Usually he placed evergreen boughs, but a recent snowfall had covered them all over.  

[Whoan]

The deer wrinkled her snout. "Up north? I think so, yes? I tend to just wander as the cold feels more....at home," she answered quietly. She ducked past the branches, only pausing to free her tines from their grasp. A small laugh escaped her at her own clumsiness.

"Your pelt? I have never seen such a color outside the winter berries. I find it lovely to look at. Mine pales in comparison," she stated smiling. She glanced around at the graves with a warm gaze. "I am sure the owners of the graves thank you for what you do. I know I would have."

magnadearel

 

[magnadearel]

Whoan

Sorry for the wait!

Veslo wouldn't want it to be cold all the time, but she didn't appeared bother by it. He realized it was all about perspective. She was probably comfortable in the cold the way he was on a warm summer night. "I can understand that. Sorry," he chuckled softly as she freed her delicate looking antlers from some reaching boughs. "I don't usually have to worry about that."

He glanced down at his pelt, pleased with her comments. "It makes me happy to have you say so. Some are afraid of the faces on it." He shook his head emphatically. "No so. I see the purity of fresh snow. The... soft side of winter if you will." Veslo glanced out past the branches to the quiet and snow covered graves. "I don't know. It's not often I see anyone here." His tone surely gave away how sad it made him. What families had these graves belonged to? Did they only visit when he wasn't around? It was hard to say. He could only do as he saw right. No one had asked him to leave.

Moving further in, he settled down on a mat of plants. "Please. Make yourself comfortable. If you don't mind talking about yourself or things you've seen, I'd love to listen."  

[Whoan]

Tove trotted closer to the stallion peering at his coat. She saw the faces and gasped. Prancing in place, the hind looked nervous. But she didn't tear her gaze away from the face on his flank.

"I never noticed them before! That is so..." she nickered, "Interesting!" She trotted around him looking for other faces in a filly-like fashion. She soon settled down a little bit away from the male as he stared out at the graves.

"But the graves look nicely kept. They don't look like rocks. And I am sure the owners appreciate it. Like I do that you didn't mark me as scary or anything." Tove offered him a soft smile, the cold wind seeming to pick up.

magnadearel

Tis fine. ^^ I've been a bit down anyways. I'll answer his second question next..

 

[magnadearel]

Whoan

Veslo was afraid once she saw the faces that she'd be frightened. Indeed for a moment it looked like she'd flee, but then she pranced around him. He smiled tolerantly as she looked him over for others. Finally she settled down. "I'm glad they don't frighten you. The two-leggers start acting very weird if I try to come near their village. I believe they think I am a spook."

He flushed with pleasure as she noted the effort he took to upkeep the graves. "I hope so. Things were in terrible states when I first decided to call this home. Of course, my haunts lead me to it." Ghosts wanted to be comfortable too. "You? Scary? You're far from it! More like a delicate snow spirit to me."

A familiar sound from outside caught his attention. "Don't be alarmed. It sounds like my mate is coming home. She might seem scary like me, but she's not."





Charnette picked her way familiarly through the paths. She'd been out doing what she loved to do. Play spooky pranks! It was great fun. Not seeing her mate out at the graves, she guessed he was inside for some ready. The blue mare made her way closer and realized she heard him talking. Sometimes he spoke softly to the ghosts that haunted him, but this didn't sound like that. She paused a moment curiously.

Who was he talking to? Did they have a visitor? That was rare. Determined now to see, she nosed her way inside. "Hello?" As the way opened up, she spotted her mate laying across from a pale white hind.