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 Posted: Wed Jun 19, 2013 11:55 am
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The grey, overcast sky threatened the kind of rain that quickly became stinging sleet. But so far, it only threatened. The rocky shore below the craggy bluff was pounded by an angry sea. White water roared as it beat steadily over shale and stone. Bare patches of grass and brush clung to the bluff in the barren shadow of a great and angry mountain.
Pele didn't notice the clouds, beyond that the light was dimmer than most days. She didn't pay any attention to the sparse vegetation. The rocks underhoof only meant an adjustment of her movements.
Pele listened to the thrum of water below as it crashed against the rocky bluff. She heard the rattle of the rocks as they were pulled back into the ocean. She picked out the shrill calls of gulls as they circled overhead.
And she moved. Her wings flashed with brilliance against the grey world around her as she spread, cupped, folded, and thrust with them. Her hooves were steady as she placed them with solemn care. This place called forth an ancient power and Pele fed it to her dance.
The waves were the beat to which she moved, the wind a piercing chill against which she fought as she used it to make her jumps higher. She turned, bowed, twisted, leapt, spun, and swayed. Her voice was a low counterpoint to the calls of the gulls, an eery melody carried over the bluff and crashing with the waves. She didn't sing with words, but with the feel of age and destruction.
Pele danced to tell the tale of a land long in conflict with the nature that formed it. She sang to give voice to the solitary longing of a wind and wave and stone. She let the world resonate through her that she could express the raw power she could feel thrumming from the place around her.
As was typical for her, Pele was unaware of those living, thinking beings around her. The call of nature, the pull of dance and song, combined to blind her to anything but her art, but the need to express.
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Posted: Sun Jun 23, 2013 9:23 pm
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Pele' was beginning to feel the storm in the change in the pressure of the air, in the quickening of the cold wind. She didn't even bother looking up. Instead she increased her speed, needing to dance for a world she could feel but which could not move for itself.
Her voice rose, higher as she wordlessly called to the clouds, the meaningless notes spiraling heavenward. And with her song, so too her body moved. Twisting as she lept, her wings caught her and the rush of air over the side of the bluff sent her higher. Muscles long trained from dancing since she was only a foal, though her father said she danced even in her basket, allowed her great control even with the wind whipping and buffeting against her.
The air carried her towards the clouds and she spun and flipped, her wings snapping as if she were a mote of flame carried from a fire. But her skill lay more with dancing on land, and so she moved to return to the craggy earth. Touching down with only a forehoof, she used her wings to keep her body aloft as she executed another body twisting move.
Her feet again steady on the rock-strewn ground, Pele' felt the first drops of water and knew her dance had to end soon. She did not fear the rain, but knew she had worked herself too hot and the freezing water would bring a fever. The water in the sea beyond the bluff would not be something she would tempt if she didn't have wings, knowing that the rocking of the waves would bring back a fear she barely understood.
But for now, the dance was not finished. As the song of the land poured from her throat, eery in its undulating melody to the wave's percussion and the harmony of the world around her, Pele' began to slow again. This land was old, and no storm nor wave would overcome it. Her final steps ones of power and unbending strength. Then her last movements ended with her still, her head high wings spread, as she stood in defiance at the edge of the bluff looking out over the sea.
Pele's sides heaved with her breathing, but she didn't move, holding the pose as more drops water fell from the sky. It would be pouring soon, but for now, what fell only steamed from her flanks. There was a cave nearby. She could hear the way the air moved over it. In a moment she would find it. For now, she looked out over the white tossed sea, feeling the land and the power of the elements caught in this place.
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Posted: Sun Jul 28, 2013 4:06 pm
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The piping cries that lifted themselves above the roar of the water were unlike any he had heard before, and Vulcan only listened, transfixed by what he was seeing. It was as though the skies themselves began to answer, the rain hissing loudly against his molten hide. Her song grew stronger, desperate somehow, and his temperature began to soar. The air itself sizzled now, the rain no longer able to even so much as strike him as thick tendrils of smoke poured from his broad back.
The wings that spread from her back made his lips draw back in a mix of defiance and uncertainty. She was a creature of air, then. Not him. He was a beast of the land, encompassing of all of its molten fury and anger.
Her song had ended, but he could still hear it pounding in his heart, and with a low, almost menacing rumble, Vulcan began to surge his way down the unstable footing, rushing to meet this strange creature. Flames flicked from his maw and down the back of his neck, roaring to life even as he locked eyes with this... creature.
No words spilled from him--only that blistering heat radiated forth, speaking volumes in itself as his baleful stare never wavered from her smaller, more delicate face. Slowly, his heavy head lowered, presenting his horns as though to gore her with them and one hoof pounded against the rocks.
Who was she? What was she? Surely she had not called to the storms themselves.
And if she had, he thought in a sudden, frenzied rush, he would kill her and send her body spiraling down into the unforgiving ocean below.
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Posted: Tue Jul 30, 2013 11:57 am
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Pele' would not have noticed him, for all his fiery nature, had he not roared as he ran. Turning, she saw the world moving towards her. And she was transfixed.
There were no lava flows on this mountain, but one moved and roared and rushed towards her.
And then she saw that it was no force of nature, but a stallion. And yet he was indeed a force of nature. Pele' barely noticed others most of the time. She spoke seldom, hating to pause her music, her dance, her art, for such simple expression. But here was one who moved with the power of the earth, the heart of the flames. One who expressed, even more than she, the truth of the world.
She should have run. But her mind knew nothing of running, only seeing the beauty and truth of the stallion. Pele' wanted nothing so much as to dance the expression of the world as she saw it through him. The power and defiance and anger. It called to her, echoing the history of this land.
Horns not even noticed, her fatigue forgotten for the moment, Pele' stood, waiting for him to near. She would dance with him and the world. And the dance would be of fire and earth, of flame and air, of land and water and the the violence of a world in continual fight for balance.
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