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 Posted: Fri Aug 09, 2013 10:41 am
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Her knife was drawn, light in her mouth and ready to strike. A crow circled above, no doubt it had spotted her yellow pelt. She doubted a lone mare would be of much interest to the Kalona scouts. But just in case, she kept the knife on her lips as she persevered through the trees. It was strange to feel in danger in a forest. Where she had previously felt at home, she was now cautious and on edge. She wasn't going to let the Kalona get in the way any more than she let the cracks in her body hinder her. After spending some time with Belle, it was time to find the rest of her family. Now more than ever it was important to know where she came from.
A vision had come to her the previous night. Not unusual for her, but it highlighted how restless she had become. Her body was telling her to pursue her mission. She had heard a little about her great-grandmother from Jezabelle, and some from her own mother as well. But now it was time to meet her. She had many questions for her. Risti wondered if she would be as dangerous as Sangria, but assumed she would be even more.
Risti ducked down as she heard voices ahead, tightening her grip on the blade that had found her almost a year ago. Her large ears swiveled as the voices faded, and pinning them back against her head again she continued on. No one had told her where Jessamine would be, but somehow she knew to follow her feet. Fate was her guide now, and she was sure she was going in the right direction. |
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Posted: Fri Aug 09, 2013 12:32 pm
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 Blood was smeared across Jessamine's mouth and flanks, her bright crimson eyes eyes glittered dangerously as she slid noiselessly through her domain towards the small stream that wove its way through the tree trunks. Cleaver, her faithful familiar ghosted above her from branch to branch, her silent wings casting shadows across her mistress whenever she passed over, carrying the wicked looking blade that was her namesake clenched firmly in her curved black beak.
Her stomach bulged slightly, filled with the remains of her latest kill, Jessamine was feeling sated and content as she slowly stepped away from the savage bloodlust that had made her feared in so many parts of Kawani. Dangerous, predatory, beautiful, she was as likely to attack as to charm but those that knew the softer side of her temper were enchanted by the deceptive doll like facade she portrayed, unaware that they were flirting with death walking, that one of her episodes was always imminent.... But no, they weren't episodes were they? She knew better now, they were remnants of a dark and glorious heritage, nothing to be ashamed of, simply part of her nature... But the beliefs built up over a lifetime of hardships and pain were hard to release. Still... Jessamine smiled, since meeting her father and sister she felt as though she had more of a place in the world. Their family was coming together in a way she had never dared dream possible, Vincento and Evangeline had even offered her sanctuary within the family herd.
She pondered these thoughts as she weaved through the underbrush, mindful of the branches so they wouldn't catch in her bows or the waterfall of silky curls that tumbled over her shoulders in two bunches. Before long she reached the stream, leaning down, she took a long drink to cleanse her palate, gossamer streamers of blood washing off her muzzle to be carried downstream.
Cleaver landed on Jessamine's back with a soft hoot, her bloodstained talons leaving streaks on the lace and earning her a growl from her mistress. She fluffed her downy feathers and nuzzled against the mare's head affectionately, the owl had learned how to ride Jessamine's moods, had to, in order to survive their close relationship. She gripped the saddle and pulled it off Jessamine's back in one smooth motion, carrying it with her back up to the branches as the pale mare slid into the stream, shivering as the cool water washed against her smooth ivory flanks to carry away the remains of her last kill.
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Posted: Sat Aug 10, 2013 11:24 am
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 Latcho had been traveling through the woods. He didn't have a destination in mind, just following the trails his roma grandmother walked, looking for her way-markers and exploring the world.
He had heard there was some kind of battle, a herd who was killing, in the area. He didn't like the idea of innocents suffering, but he was one soquili, and one most took a look at and ran in fear from. There wasn't much he could do against a herd of enemies.
He had been thinking of finding out more about what was happening. Maybe finding a side and joining the fight. But for all that he could manage not to kill and sate his monstrous appetite most of the time, the smell of blood always brought red to his eyes and hunger to his gut.
And he was smelling it now. It didn't seem like the scent of a battle, there wasn't enough blood. But a kill, probably from a hunt . . .
Latcho stayed still on the small path, his tentacles twitching. His eyes were red and his nostrils flared. He wanted to sup upon that blood, to fill his belly with it. And yet . . . he hated that longing, that need for flesh, for blood.
So he stood still, not hearing the movement of another on the path approaching him.
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Posted: Mon Aug 12, 2013 11:12 am
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A flash of color caught her eye in the path ahead. She approached the other silently, her knife drawn and ready to kill. At first, she thought the other was another kalona scout on patrol. This was definitely not Jessamine, it was a stallion. But he was in her way, and if he attacked she would have to use her knife. It wasn't something she was eager to do, although during times like these it was important that she protect herself.
She fell upon the stallion like darkness upon night, pressing her blade to his body threateningly. "Don't move," she whispered in his ear through clamped teeth, her face coming close to odd tentacles entwined with hair. The realization was not made as she pressed the knife to her brother's throat. "Are you a scout?" she asked, although she was sure he would lie if he was one now that she had him cornered and threatened. The knife felt strange in her mouth as a threat, but she reassured herself that it was for protection's sake as it usually was. This stallion would have easily overpowered her without it. She waited for a response, all the while her mind whirring back and forth on the subject of defense and offense. She hoped he would not give her a reason to use the blade against the warmth of his neck. All the while she knew Jessamine could be getting further away from her, and she wished this would end quickly so she could catch up.
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Posted: Thu Oct 17, 2013 8:51 am
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Clean and feeling refreshed, Jessamine climbed back onto the bank of the river, water streaming down her sides. Her ribbons and lace were dripping, but clean, she shivered, and began the short walk back to her homestead. Unbeknownst to the mare, one of her ribbons caught and held on a branch as she passed. It hung there, limp and bedraggled to proclaim its owners passing.
A short time later, Jessamine stepped into a small clearing around the mouth of a cave. The ground was carpeted with short grass that was so dense and lush it felt like fur beneath the mare's hooves. Tiny flowers were scattered among the blades of grass here and there to lend the clearing a splash of color. The branches overhead interlocked into a woven net that provided protection from the worst of the elements while allowing starlight to penetrate between the leafy boughs.
Jessamine sighed happily, enjoying the clarity she experienced when her cravings, now sated, receded to the back of her mind. This clearing wasn't home per say, that was farther up the nearby mountain where her father resided, along with the small herd he protected. Still, the deep navy ribbons that were tied around the trees bordering the clearing proclaimed this piece of kawani as part of his territory and that was close enough for tonight.
A patch of blackness blotted out the starlight making the mare glance up sharply, but the soft hoot that reached her ears a moment later announced the return of Cleaver. The owl banked and landed next to her mistresses hooves, gently placing her namesake, Jessamine's cleaver, within the mare's reach before flying up to one of the overhead branches to do her own hunting.
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Posted: Thu Oct 17, 2013 3:09 pm
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Latcho held still, a strange mare with a knife pressed to his throat was enough to pull him back to where he was. His eyes still red with blood lust, he felt himself thinking of ways to turn the knife on his attacker.
But her words confused him, pulling him further from the smell of blood. "Scout?" Surely a tentacle could take the knife from her, but could it do so before his blood was painting the ground?
"Remove yourself, or die." Not quite the words he had been looking for, but they seemed to hold menace. And he had used them so often in play as a foal that they seemed to speak themselves. Latcho was fairly proud his voice didn't quiver with his words.
He would give it just another moment, see what the mare did. If she didn't move, he could kick her, possibly open her belly with his sharp hooves as his tentacles grabbed the knife. He planned what to do, what is mouth has promised without his thought.
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