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 Posted: Thu Jan 31, 2013 12:17 am
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Posted: Thu Jan 31, 2013 6:07 pm
Having left his basket, Winterbaine had took to wandering a little. He could swear he could sometimes hear a voice. A low but somehow... high voice. It was hard to explain. It was unlike his mother's and it was unlike any of the masculine voices he thought he'd heard from outside of the basket. And though like his mother's voice, this one did speak directly to him, it was different. It was more curious than anything, but then again it would say it got bored and then just wander away without anything more.
So having escaped the confines of his basket at long last, Winterbaine had taken to wandering in hopes of finding the source of this voice. Where was it coming from, and why was it that he could only hear it when it's owner was out of sight?
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Posted: Thu Jan 31, 2013 6:12 pm
 Ruin hopped along the branch to get toward the edge. From there he had a better view of the foal. It was a curious looking thing, pale with a long tail that whipped back and forth with what looked like a blade at the end. Strange... Though he supposed it's mother had somehow acquired one similar so it was obviously hereditary. Could come in useful in the future, anyway.
He had haunted the basket, in all essence, in the hopes of finding out more about it. He was the oldest of the ravens that White Raven had sent with the pregnant mare, but he was also something of an outcast. That is to say, they did speak and they got along well enough, but he was... well he was marring. His name aptly described what tended to happen to things around him. He liked the dark and dank, and he liked seeing destruction and ruin fall around him. Sometimes it even made him smile.
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Posted: Thu Jan 31, 2013 6:19 pm
It'd been a few days now, and Winterbaine had gotten a good grasp at this whole... walking thing. He even found that for the most part he was very well balanced. His heavy tail often helped to keep him upright, except of course, when he knocked it into something. It did have a bit of a habit of sweeping into something and either knocking it away, or sometimes even slicing right into it! The blade end of his tail was strange, to be sure, but he liked it. When he was in his basket, it was often the only thing that would reflect back at him in the darkness. He liked the way it shone blue in the light and how it flashed bright in the dark. He planned on training it to obey him better, but for the time being it would suffice.
Winterbaine looked over and under all around, and he even asked his mother once if she had heard the voice that spoke to him, the strange one. She brushed him away, dismissing such child's play as nonsense, but he figured she must have just been busy with something he didn't understand. If he couldn't find it soon, he thought he might bring his siblings in to help him find it, but first he wanted the chance to find it himself. Swiping his tail back and forth eagerly, the foal bounded left and right, ducking here and weaving there making his search into a sort of game to pass the time.
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Posted: Fri May 31, 2013 1:17 am
Making it as far toward the end of the branch as he would dare, Ruin puffed up his feathers and stuck out his chest before announcing himself to the foal. He had to dress to impress, afterall! In his own way.
"You're looking much too low. Hasn't anyone ever told you to look up?" And that's all there was to be said. He had certainly been taught to look up as a chick, so why hadn't this one? The question was brusque, and it accompanied a scrying eye, but hey, no one said that this raven was going to be a nice guy.
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Posted: Fri May 31, 2013 1:42 am
The foal jumped, startled. His eyes opened wide and his hair stood on end, but it was excitement not fear that held the colt's heart in it's tight grasp. There was that voice! He had found it at last! He knew that that voice hadn't been just in his head! He knew he wasn't crazy!
Just as suddenly as he had jumped, the foal spun on the spot, first turning left, then stopping and turning all the way right, and amid all that turning when he finally came to a halt his tail stopped obeying and cut him. A neat gash across his shoulder appeared on his pale skin and he hissed at it, dulling his excitement for just a moment so he could scowl at his disobedient tail. But it lasted not a second before he remembered that the voice had after several days of silence finally revealed itself to him.
Up, it had said, so up he looked. Craning his little white neck Winterbaine searched a few seconds before his eyes finally landed on a raven. The only reason his eyes stopped on it was that it felt... out of place. It wasn't white like many birds up here where it snowed often were, and it wasn't black like he was told most crows and ravens were. It was a mix of both!
He stood there silently gaping at the thing for several moments. What was there to say to the voice that had had no body up until then? It had been fluid and imaginary, but now it was no more. Now he had beady eyes to match to the voice that had whispered to him and the more he looked at the bedraggled raven, the more he thought it suited him. Yes, he decided, the voice that had been speaking to him definitely belonged to the raven. Because, really... why would a raven be giving him the stink eye if it hadn't been the one that had just spoken to him. Besides, the slight lisp to some of it's words made sense now since they had been coming out of a beak.
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Posted: Fri May 31, 2013 1:45 am
Ruffling his feathers in agitation, the raven allowed the little termite to gawk at him for a few moments... and then for a few moments more... but by then he had had enough.
"Just going to state at me, then?" He snapped, his temper getting the better of him. "Was I not what you were expecting, termite?" He threw the insult out in his agitation, forgetting momentarily that he was meant to be a sort of... peace officer for his dear White Raven. Ah to hell with that. He was angry, he was being stared at by a freak of nature, and he was going to express that however he chose. Hmph.
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Posted: Fri May 31, 2013 1:50 am
He had been about to say something but the raven's outburst cut him short. He promptly closed his mouth and allowed the bird to finish his rant. Most certainly the same voice that had been whispering to him from outside his scratchy basket.
Either ignoring or not noticing the insult, Winterbaine responded to the bird quite plainly, "You look like your voice." As if that should have been obvious for some reason. "My name's Winterbaine. At least that's what momma calls me. Do you have a name?" He tilted his head to the side, The foal might be naive, but he was not dumb. Offer the raven something to talk about and perhaps he would get some answers when he calmed down.
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