Welcome to Gaia! ::

- It's been a year..
Jerrin looks at the mare before him. Her blue eyes and light cream coat stunning to his eyes. No bruises mark her skin, no blood on her coat. How times had changed. He remembers the day that things started to change for him. If he was still in his herd and if it was a different time this mare's coat would have plenty of scratches and bruises from him being too rough. From him getting angry if she had so much as to say something he didn't agree with. Yet here she is unharmed after a pleasurable night together. This mare being one of the few that have given him a chance to redeem himself. To better himself.
He can still remember the day when his life changed. How long ago it has been. A year since his father cast him out. Disowned him to roam alone through the lands. Getting rid of his only son. His blue eyes take on a distant look as he goes back to that time. To relive those memories.
The day was pleasant. The sky had no cloud in sights and the color of the lightest blue that seemed to stretch forever. Limitless. The feathers in his long black mane and tail shift with the small breeze as he moves forward through the herd. Behind him a mare of three years walks behind. Her brown coat speckled with blood from where he bit her after she dared to lash out at him. Bruises along her hindquarters are clearly seen from where he had kicked at her out of anger when she came too close to him when he was speaking of his father's latest lecture. She had tried to comfort him. Yet he didn't need her comfort. What he wanted from her was her body in the most basic way. Nothing more. He didn't ask for her opinion, nor her pity. He isn't some poor foal who got lost!
Stepping through the tall grass bits of grass manage to cling to some of his leg feathering. Before him two of his father's minions come up to him. Faces hard and still as stone.
"Cathro, Ethos. " He bows his head in greeting as they come to stand before him.
" Jerrin. Your father wishes your presence before him. Now. No protesting Jerrin." Cathro's deep voice seems to resonate in his throat as he speaks. His voice always reminded Jerrin of a bears.
Annoyance flashes in his eyes as once again the minute that he steps back into the herd he is summoned to see his father. Doesn't his father have anything better to do than to lecture and harass him?! It's so bothersome! Muttering under his breath he follows the two guards.
Ethos looks at the mare."You are to come to milady. Please don't fear. We won't let any more harm come to you." Ethos glares at Jerrin with disgust.
Jerrin is not fazed by the glare. He knows what the other thinks and he doesn't care for it. Nor does he care much for Ethos as a whole. Such a goody two shoes. Walking towards the place where his father holds his meetings . He steps through the outcrop of rocks and over to stand before him. He can't hide the displeasure at being summoned so soon.
"You wished to see me father."
His father's blue eyes meet his own as he looks upon his son. Then he looks at the mare.
"Yes. It is about your behavior towards mares! You are cruel to them and you refuse to listen! You hurt them when you are overcome with emotion and are so hard headed you will get yourself killed someday. Look at her! She is all bruised up from you! This is one mare out of many that you have done this to in your nighttime activities. This will stop now! I have given you many chances to change. Yet it seems I've still been too lenient with you. No more." His gaze is hard as he looks at Jerrin. His eyes going to the brown bracelet with the black braid wrapped on it. The armband that was Jerrin's mothers. How his deceased mate would be so disappointed to know of Jerrin's behavior.
"Father! What business is it of yours on how I treat them hmm? So I'm cruel now huh? How about you? You don't even let me visit mother's grave because you don't want to show me where it is!"
His father looks at him and takes a deep breath."This isn't about that! Yes you are cruel and you take your anger out on mares that you are with. I am greatly disappointed with you. I can't even look you in the eye anymore! I have come to a decision Jerrin. From this day on. You are not my son anymore. I disown you Jerrin. Just as you are no longer my son, you are also no longer part of this herd. Leave. There is no place for you here."
Jerrin is taken aback. His father.. disowned him? How can this be? Anger runs hot through his veins as he lifts his head. His eyes burning."You will rue this day." Turning he leaves silently. His head high as he still has his pride.
For months he traveled alone. It always seemed that herds that he came across always had heard of him. His father having sent messengers ahead warning them of what his son does to mares. Having traveled alone for a while. He had had a lot of time to think and reflect on his actions. Guilt started to plague him. His sleep interrupted by nightmares of mares that he had hurt killing him. Days seem to drag on and on. Lonely and alone he had started to talk to himself. It wasn't until six months after his father disowned him that a mare came into his life that would help change him for the better. Making him a better stallion.
He met her on a rainy day under a big oak tree. Her coat the lightest cream color that he has ever seen. Her blue eyes dark yet filled with such a light that shown far brighter than her beauty. It was raining hard, pouring down upon the earth relentlessly. His coat, hair and feathers soaked through. Having crossed an open field he welcomed the cover of a big oak tree which stretched further than any of the surrounding tree's branch span. It wasn't until he physically bumped into the mare that he knew that he wasn't alone. He watches wide eyed with a slight blush upon his cheeks. It has been so long since he talked to someone else that he simply didn't know what to say. "ummm... I'm sorry.. I didn't see you." Clearing his throat he looks around. Should he leave? This oak's branches cover them both and there is plenty of room for them both. It is then that he hears the mare's voice. It is soft yet musical.
"It's okay. With this rain it would be hard to notice anyone unless they had a bright coat. I wasn't paying much attention either. Please don't fret over it."
Jerrin's blue eyes looks over the mare. She is very pretty. He feels that guilt as he thinks of what he would have done. He backs away."I'm sorry. I should leave. Mare's get hurt when I am around them." The mare looks at him silently. Her gaze searching his face as if she can see right through him. She steps forward.
" Hey..It's okay.. I don't think you will hurt me."
Jerrin shakes his head.
"I'll get angry and I will lash out. It is better if I leave."
The mare doesn't let him go away. Whatever she saw in him she seemed to be determined to keep him with her.
" You sound as though you have some doubt. Like you haven't been around mares in a while. Sir.. Everyone can change. Anyone can change if they truly wish it. You are strong.. And you fear what you will do. I see the guilt in your eyes. The fear of hurting me. "
He wouldn't know until later that this mare has instincts that never deceive her and is a great judge of character.
Jerrin doesn't know how she can tell all of that from just looking at him. Yet everything she said is true. He is scared as he doesn't want to be alone anymore. He is scared that nobody will like him for what he's done.
"Let me help you.. Please..."
The whites of his eyes show as he watches the mare. Her eyes seem to plead with him as she steps closer. He had stopped backing away when he reached the point that rain was hitting his hindquarters. Slowly the mare approached. Her eyes never leaving his. Stopping when they are muzzle to muzzle she nuzzles him gently.
"My name is Nevaeh. Please.. Let me travel with you. Let me help you. I have no herd anymore and I don't want to be alone. We can help each other.. "
Jerrin starts to shake slightly. What should he do? Should they travel together? Can he try to let her help him? Is it worth the risk? What if he becomes what he was before? He doesn't want that. It isn't until she reaches up to fix one of his feathers that he makes the decision to let her try.
"As long as you don't try to push me.. I guess I'll let you try.. I'm Jerrin. "
Nevaeh smiled up at him then as she relishes her victory for a few moments. They talk with one another for a while as the rain pours. When it stops they start to travel. The smell of the earth after rain keeping them company.
After traveling for two weeks tempers started to fly one day. It was after they had crossed a river when they started talking about their pasts. Jerrin still wouldn't talk about his father and Nevaeh had been getting more and more persistent. It has come to the point where he was at his breaking point.
Spinning on his heels he moves to snap at her flank when he stops himself. What is he doing?! He almost bit her out of anger! He backs away taking deep breaths.
"Stop asking me Nevaeh.. Please.. I'm not wanting to speak of it. Soon.. but not yet.."
Nevaeh looks at him and nods. She knows that she pushed him too hard and he almost bit her for it. Almost. Smiling slightly she goes over and nuzzles his back.
"See you can stop yourself. This is definitely improvement. All you need is the will to change Jerrin. And even if you can't tell. You have changed Jerrin. Been growing into a better stallion. One that anyone would be proud to have."
Leaving it at that she walks off again as he follows.
Two months into their travels things started to change again. He had gotten better at controlling his anger and resisting the urge to hurt another physically. They have grown closer and soon became lovers. Nevaeh was always patient to him. Always understanding, yet was strong and would stand up to him. His confidence in himself started to grow and soon he was like his old self, yet different. He wasn't prideful. Nor was he cocky. He had more control over himself and he was proud of that.
A nudge in his side brings him out of his memories as blue eyes look into his own. Nevaeh chuckles.
"You've been looking into the past my love. Time to step out of it and come back to the present. Enough of thinking how much you've changed. It is morning and there are things to be done."
Getting up he goes to follow Nevaeh. His sun and stars.
-

Shiva was a female born from the most vicious female warriors. She was trained from infancy to wield weapons and sprint long distances. She went through trial after trial until she was old enough and strong enough to join the other women in siege. They stole and fought for everything that had, but she happy. For a while anyway. It wasn't long before her mother came down with a disease that quickly caused her health to deteriorate, and within months, she was alone. If it wasn't for her sisters in arms, she never would have made it through that traumatic time. But she did. Focusing all her time and energy on training. Receiving scars and lashes and even bites to move up in rank until she was the new leaders second in command.

She was content with this position, but for some reason, something seemed to be missing in her life. She enjoyed the rush and blood of a good fight, but she had yet to experience what some of the women referred to as love. Shiva never understood why some of those women left the sisterhood for love, for the love of a stallion none the less. But she was curious as well. And it wasn't long before she found a stallion that had skills to match her own and a passion that fueled her own.
Sadly, it's also what caused her downfall. She fell hard for this stallion, believed him when he said he wanted her to be with him. But little did she know, that her "love" lead many down the same rotten path.

It was almost dawn when she discovered just how deceitful her male was. She found him coupling with another mare shortly after her band had gotten back from a mission. Her eyes had glowed brightly in the growing light, flames bursting from her skin and burning away the twisted curls so many of her friends adored, and she charged them. Out of anger and hatred she charged and attacked with all she had. But her rage was be her downfall and she lost to him, his spear lodging itself deep in her chest... To this day she isn't sure how she survived it. But the large scar on her chest was testament that it did happen.

After that, she couldn't go back to her herd, but chose to come to these lands and make a new life. A life she would make helping other mares avoid the males that would destroy them. She vowed it.. she would never again allow a male to harm those she considered sister.

((not sure if this qualifies as the rebirth your thinking about.. but.. it's just what came to me when i got a look at her))

She lived in an ever changing world, one that never stayed the same for long. The passage of time was a swift one for mortals and even a foal could take note of the changes that took place around. Creatures would be born, they would age, and they would die - Landscapes would change, new things would appear...suffice it to say that there was no 'constant', or so she had thought.

As a fawn she had thought that nothing was a constant, no sooner would she blink than something 'new' would appear...and yet as she grew older, as she opened her eyes and truly looked; she began to realise that one true constant did exist in the world.

The one constant, was a paradox - the one constant, was 'change'.

It was a revelation that had swept over her as she had observed her own reflection, one that as it had grown older, had chopped, changed and shifted with every passing season. Just as the colours around her had changed, so had she... as the leaves fell, so did her's. She was a mirror to the world, and it was through this that she had realised that the world was destined to change forever, but it would endeavour to place some form of familiarity in place.

For her, this came in the form of the seasons...

While the leaves upon the trees might perish, they left behind a new life, that in time would grow and shape a new vision of spring around the living. Her antlers had often echoed this sentiment and thus...she had learned of the existence of one of life's rare 'constants'.

Ah... But the more she thought about it and the more she dwelled - she realised that life's 'constants' all followed much the same pattern.

She would live.
She would grow.
She would die.
And life would begin anew...

Whatever way she looked at it, life's little constants remained the same. With each step there existed a chance to grow, and a chance to change.

Life's constant was an endless cycle of change.

An endless cycle of renewal and growth...

Siuloir breathed in and slowly opened his eyes. It was spring again. The trees that have been bare of leaf and flora is starting to be green again. The snow that had built up over the cold winter months melting away, giving way to new sprouts of flowers soon to be. It was spring again but to him it seem like only his first.

He had woken up one year ago with no memory of his past life. Nothing to connect him to who he was, no loved one or family member to whisper his name till he remembered all that was connected to it. He guessed the cause of the loss of memory was the blood that had streamed form his head the day he first woke up. He has some vague feeling that that was something known to happen.

Sometimes he will close his eyes and ry to picture them try to remember what he know he lost. But when he thinks he has a hold of them he opens his eyes and they are gone again as if they were never there. He did not even still own his name. The name he has now was given to him by a traveler he met as he wandered. This traveler thought it sad he was with out name and decided to give him the name Siuloir, which in their tung meant traveler or wayfarer. It fit and he felt a sense of rightness with the name so adopted it as his own with no trouble.

The only clues to who he once was is the clothing and accessories he wears. Much of it was fur from dead animals. And leather made from the same animal. Some were beads made with dyed bones or feathers. Some of it was an odd substance that was hard and sleek and clinked when he moved and he knew it would protect him in a fight. He often wondered if he was a guardian and if his wound was caused when he was trying to save some one in need? But it didn't feel like him. Then he wondered if he hunted evil beasts to protect the less able. But when he tried to hunt and kill a wolf pack he herd was hassling a small herd he found the task too simple, too easy. And he suddenly felt that he wanted to know how strong he really was. What his limits were. Not to regain his memory but just to know how worthy he was of the armor he wore.

He came to this new goal on the last cold day of winter. And with the decision he also chose to abandon his past. He had wasted the last year not living but instead holding onto a ghost that died a year ago. Now he would live a new life as this new soquili who was their own person. Traveling place to place challenging fighters that look strong and trying to best them. This new spring day almost year when he first woke up was the day he finally starts his new life.

Siuloir looked up at the bright new sky and smiled as he went on his way.

Have you heard the story of the Phoenix? That noble creature known for its lifetime of rebirth and renewal? Yes? Have you heard of the Salamander? No? It was a creature also known to be born of fire and often to rebirth itself in its flames. That might be where the similarities end. The Salamander is a tricky creature, full of desire and destruction as much as as she is of virtue and life. Some say the Salamander does not eat, that the fire sustains her. Others say she feasts on those that have wronged her. No one knows the Salamander like she knows herself.

She is quite the creature, at home in the water or upon the fiery landscapes. Many have sought her out. Some to defeat her, others to worship her. She cares not for them or their desires. She is time itself and time is endless in her eyes. She has seen mountains born and those same mountains erupt with the fire from within. She has reveled in it. It is the same revelry she has felt when living creatures have also built themselves up only to erupt from within, fighting each other and laying waste. Has she caused this? Perhaps so, for she loves to watch the wars and walk among the scorched lands. But she is always there to also fan these flames to help rebuild, rebirth, rekindle.

When she is ready to go, she simply burns herself out from within. The ash crumbles and falls, like so much shed skin. In it's place a new being is revealed. A new Salamander, tall and proud, the fires of passion and rage and hunger and destruction and virtue and life all warring within, beating in her breast. She looks out into the wastelands, tail flicking in thought, then goes forth to begin anew, knowing this is but a small journey to her never-ending cycle of life upon life.

She is the Salamander. She is all she will ever be.