((Lmao lemme know if this is too bright. I think my original intent was to give her black font with the pink used only when she spoke? What is memory.))
Axelle held her wings against her side, their carriage loose and ready to unfurl at any moment. Breaths came in quick and shallow bursts, and eyes darted to and fro, as if in preparation of a battle. The Great Kalona herd had split only the day before, but it seemed too soon – no, too sudden – for it to be over. And yet, it made sense, didn't it? Conflicts within the herd were often taken care of in a similar manner; those who held grievances with another fought it out, and from then on carried no grudge. It was practical, and as the split had shown, it would not do to allow such strife to build. That the herd had settled its differences with the mass exodus was a surprising turn of events, but the problem now had been an excess of violence, not lack of it, and the solution had been a rational one.
Everything seemed so logical. How, then, had she not anticipated it? She, who'd once been prized and praised for her far-seeing mind? Her predictions had been so far off the mark that she'd even tried to disassociate with her father, so certain was she of his own failure and inevitable death. But it was he who won out in the end.
Axelle swung her wings and tried to shake her thoughts with them, the motion rustling the grass beneath her hooves and sending the morning dew aflutter. They were chilly against the cool dawn as they splattered against her ankles, but she didn't feel them; she'd felt nothing since the exodus and had yet to face her father, too. What would he think of her if he knew? That at the heart of it, it was not the cause she'd truly supported. She would have chosen any option that would have benefited her the most, and it was only sentimentality that aligned her goals with his – the same sentimentality that kept her tied to her family at all costs. Some would consider such attachment a weakness, but the outcome of this proved otherwise.
A dash, a leap, and she was airborne. This time, her contemplations were not so difficult to release, and they fell from her like water off stone, leaving her mind as clear as the sky above her. Her dark form was stark against it, and her magenta spots even more so. She would not be hard to recognize. With the proverbial dust still settling, it was, perhaps, not the wisest of actions to take, but she did not intend to be up for long.
Ryuukishin
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Posted: Sun Dec 01, 2013 11:31 pm
The sun was just beginning to make its presence known by imbuing the sky with hues of pink and gold but Zeilvar saw nothing but a gray haze before him. Though his glowing orbs swept to and fro over the location of the final battle he saw nothing, felt nothing. Emotions of rage, betrayal and loss had overwhelmed him the day before; leaving him a numb husk staring out over a bloodstained battlefield that marked the end of life as he had once known it. The herd he had been born into had dissolved with no more than a few heavyhearted words from the Alpha and the Protector, it was all gone. His teeth clenched with a loud snapping sound and he pawed at a dark patch of earth, digging at it until crimson grains of sand stuck to his black cloven hoof. The taste of blood and bitterness still lingered on his tongue but he felt drained, as Moncerrath had pointed out, he would need time to recover. Turning his head he looked at the recently reset wing pressed against his side. Just another reminder of what had happened; of how they had been betrayed by those they had placed a great deal of trust.
Every time he blinked images of Kalona attacking Kalona rampaged across his eyelids. Gruesome pictures of stallions and mares he had trained with since his youth sinking their teeth into their kin forced his eyes open. He could still hear the sound of their defeat, still discern the pity those of the Kawani lands had felt for him as he continued fighting a losing battle. The traitors who had allowed their minds to weaken and their resolve to fade; they were to blame for it all. The Great Kalona had not turned his back on them; they had turned their backs on him. Throwing their creation and all of the gifts he bestowed upon them carelessly back in his face. He and many others had remained strong, but that didn’t matter when the weakest links severed and caused them to fall. A gentle breeze picked up, carrying with it the scent of rot and decay. His nostrils wrinkled at the noxious odor but he did not turn away. He would remember this moment, and he would make every one of the traitors pay the ultimate price for their cowardice.
Directing his gaze skyward he cursed every bone in the body of the traitors, until he noticed a familiar figure gliding up above him. The black accented only by the fiery pink markings bringing back memories of the herd’s former glory. Had he been able he would have lifted off, flying to her with the utmost speed and urgency. She was a shred of what had once been and what could have been, and he needed that more than ever. All the others had dispersed, broken and unsure of their paths, but she had been directed toward him. She could help him achieve his goal of making the betrayers pay; together they made a virtually unstoppable team. “Axelle!” He boomed, throwing his voice so that it would reach as high into the sky as it could.
Ryuukishin
Nope, color works for me. You original idea sounds awesome, but either way works. ^^ Sorry this took me so long, I managed to get sick over break and my muse kinda died. XD
Posted: Sun Jan 05, 2014 10:56 pm
XBlind-DarknessX
((And apologies as well for my much slower reply. Zeilvar had always been strong. He was one of the most able fighters in the herd and steadfast in his loyalty, and his voice was as capable as the rest of him. The air was roaring in her ears and there was much distance between them, but it took only one try for Axelle to hear his call, and she dipped a wing in response so that the arc of her flight brought her closer to him. Three things were evident from that one word.
The first was that he did not know of her involvement in the Great Herd’s unraveling. The way of the silver tongue was not his, and neither was the rat’s – he would not take revenge with words and trickery, nor by back-stabbing. If he thought her guilty, he would make no attempt to hide his intent.
Second, he’d been harmed. It shouldn’t have surprised her as much as it did; he was mortal like the rest of them and vulnerable to hurts, though more apt to protect himself than most. Most likely his wing, else he’d come himself. She remembered she'd once heard that winds liked their lovers winged, so that they might fly together. But that was stupid. Why would anyone want to fly with their beloved? To take pleasure in the sights and elation of the sky, and know that to come together was to endanger, and that to touch was to die; to enjoy, and be unable to share it. If it was possible in his current state, Zeilvar would have flown to her. And though it had been a while, the beating of their wings might have joined, and they might have soared side by side, knowing that one wrong move could knock the wind from their partner’s wings, trusting each other in spite of it, and taking thrill from the risk involved. But that was stupid. They had not done so for some time, and for good reason.
Yet, lastly, he still trusted her.
“Zeilvar,” she said by way of greeting, giving a few powerful strokes of her wing to soften her landing. If she was angry that he’d announced her location to many in the vicinity, she didn’t show it. The soquili who called this land home would not touch her, and she had no need to fear any from the Great Herd while Zeilvar still believed her to be on his side.
If it had been another, she might have asked how he fared or mayhaps even try to offer comfort. The Great Herd might have a reputation for violence, but everyone had their own way of coping in troubled times, and as the lieutenant’s daughter she’d always felt more responsibility towards her herd mates than most – though not enough to choose them over herself when it came down to it. But not Zeilvar. She knew him well enough to know that action was his intent, and vengeance his satisfaction, but if she let him go through with it, it would invariably lead to her, and her father, too.
“What are you planning?”
Ryuukishin
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Posted: Thu May 22, 2014 1:44 am
Ryuukishin
So that took me an ungodly amount of time to respond to. I hope you can forgive my laziness Ryuu. XD I am still very interested in their plot!
It was as though the powerful turbulence that haunted their past had never existed as the Kalona mare descended from the blue heights. Had he been in a better condition than he was currently it was possible he could have found her guilty of treason by putting together the subtle pieces that lay scattered across time and space. Her outright refusal to accept that it was his right, no, his duty to kill her weakling brother when he started something he could not finish and the hatred for him that followed, and that she did not appear to have been wounded like many others had been upon their defeat all could have been indicators. Regardless all went unnoticed as he desperately clung to the familiar face he had once felt a deep connection to, to the one piece of Kalona strength that remained of their broken herd.
Coming to a stop before where she landed he felt a pang of regret upon her seeing him in such a weakened state. The two of them had once been strong together, each of them complimenting the others power but now he felt like a broken twig, thin and frail. “You didn’t die I see.” He stated simply, showing the measure of concern typical of a child of Kalona. The breed was never known for their warmth or affection, and that was a standard he strictly held himself to. Anger, hatred, ego; all were emotions of power but love, concern, and kindness were the mark of a true weakling.
His head snapped up when she seemingly read his mind and his lips peeled back from his fangs in an ugly and nearly crazed grin. “They will pay…” He growled deeply. “Their flesh will be torn from their bodies by my fangs, their hearts shall be crushed beneath my hooves and their filthy corpses will be left to wilt under the sun and be eaten by the insects they resemble!” With each word his tone grew in volume and foam began to gather at the corners of his mouth. A sinister laugh full of darkness and hatred started in his chest and soon escaped in the air, telling of his conviction and obsession.
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