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 Posted: Sun Mar 30, 2014 4:02 pm
 
This is a Private RP between ArashiX (Teepee) and Uta (Teepee).
Please do not post unless invited. <3
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Posted: Sun Mar 30, 2014 6:39 pm
The recent fires were so like that which spread across his old home. He'd been safe from this one, too, just as safe as the spots of fires from days he believed to be long gone. His flank ached.
The heat; the dry, scratchy, relentless baking of sun, drove him to be grumpy. The fact that his old injury was crusty and weeping made his irritation worse. Softly-curved ears swept back and pinned themselves against his head. The fool of a half-Unicorn hadn't done a good enough job. She had only helped, not healed, as she said she would. The stallion ground his flat teeth together before snapping at the dry air as an old scab cracked. This day just couldn't get any better and he hoped it didn't continue to grow even worse.
He needed to find water. Maybe mud if he was so lucky, if the sun hadn't baked it until it was cracked earth, like his wound was cracked flesh. He needed something cool and cold. Oh, if he could only happen across a lake, he would gladly plunge his entire lean body into the depths and just...swim.
Frosted eyes swept the area. Over and over and over. The little flutter-bug that had been pestering him had flit off long ago. And for that much, at least, Baellian was undyingly thankful. Perhaps he would try to make his way towards the mountains if he did not falter and fail with his injury that was reopening. The injury whose cause still haunted his dark dreams.
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Posted: Sun May 18, 2014 4:05 pm
Ecclesia was far from home, and the smoke that coated her tongue and nose was a daily reminder. Though the fires were finished, though the people had begun to move on with their lives, to pick up the pieces and seek out new land to call their own, the violet mare couldn't help but be amazed. She had spent her entire life in the small grasslands in the valley of the mountains; her mother had brought her up to live a life of fear and uncertainty, and it had worked. The black eyed mare had never dared to leave the comfort of her homelands, though she certainly ached for adventure. It was strange, really, how her grandmother Luca was such a free spirit -- she had no fear of the world, of what tomorrow might bring, an was so unlike Cassiel and herself, that she had to wonder if she possessed any of that blood within her veins!
Still, it was only recently that Ecclesia had finally decided to live her life for her, and not under the fears of her mothers hoof. She knew her mother had meant well, but she had stifled her daughter until she had been forced to flee. Sometimes Ecclesia wondered how Cassiel had taken her disappearance, though it had been under her own father's encouragement. She had to live her own life . . . And she was ever determined to do so.
Unfortunately, what the mare found had been long bouts of loneliness, uncertainty of what the morning would bring, temporary fears, and then smoke. So much smoke. Fire had ravaged the land, and the violet mare had been unable to turn away from the call and need of help. Entire villages had been displaced, and it had forced the demure mare out of her shell and into the realm of strangers. She helped where she could, healed where she could -- for all that she wasn't a unicorn -- and was only now beginning to take time to herself.
There was still much to be done, but the violet mare needed to carry on. She was not part of the herd, or the village, nor did she have a desire to settle. . .the hardest part was over, and life had to go on. Her conscience demanded she stay, but a small part of her was ready for greener hills. She didn't wish to go back home, but she yearned to be away from the smoke. She was no longer needed, so it was time to carry on.
So it was, the violet mare picked her way through the drought stricken lands, searching out any sign of water. So it was, she picked her way unknowingly closer to where the frost-touched Baellian was walking. The scent of blood tickled her nose, faint though it was, Ecclesia instantly pricked her ears and hastened her pace. She was cautious, for whatever was leaking that crimson fluid might very well be a predator walking away from the kill, but the mare couldn't in good conscience just disregard the trail. It wasn't a huge amount of blood, but it was possible someone, or something out there, was in need.
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Posted: Sun Jun 15, 2014 1:09 pm
Water seemed like a lost dream the more he kept going. It was a sad thing...and a gravely concerning thing. The only things he could hope to do about it were to find some sort of water source or puddle that had escaped the sun's sweltering rays - which meant he wasn't likely to find anything on these drought-parched plains - and hope for the rains. He would never dance for them, no. Baellian wasn't superstitious in that regard.
While there might be some great spirits, he certainly had much reasonable doubt as to their existence.
Wary despite his weariness, it didn't take long for the Cerynei stallion to notice a splotch of colour that didn't belong with the muted yellows and very dusty greens and browns. Vibrant purple, like flowers and sometimes the swatches of silks he had seen during the time of his unwilling imprisonment; the colour made him feel somewhat paranoid. It was, in his mind, stupid. His ears pinned back as the shape of what was coming became visible, but he did not stop or tarry in his walking. He was aware he wasn't alone, and that was enough. Baellian had no intentions of stopping to chat or potentially face his recapture.
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Posted: Wed Nov 12, 2014 7:22 pm
Ecclesia continued to follow the trail, the scent of blood getting heavier on the air the closer she approached Baellian. The mare was quite sure that the unusual scent had to be coming from him, with confirmation of it as soon as she was close enough to see his bloodied back. The stallion was trudging on, and mostly seemed to disregard her presence, but that wound! She had never seen witnessed such a thing, and had to wonder what happened. It didn’t look at all like a bite from a kalona, nor did it look like any sort of attack. Speared, perhaps, by some sort of unicorn? Something a ‘suti had done – rumor had it they had strange magic. Looking the rest of the stallion over for additional wounds, she caught the strange glint of what looked like ice on his legs. . .
What. . . what happened to him? The mare knew she shouldn't stare, but she also could not help but wish to assess the situation before her. She was no unicorn, but she couldn't leave someone in need. Where there was blood, there was hurt, there was pain, infection, and the threat of drawing something unsavory near. Of course, this was assuming the blood wasn't from a predator itself!
On the one hand, the demure female found herself hesitating to approach. The stallion surely must have seen her, but carried on. If he were in pain then there was no wonder why he might not speak; then again, she knew nothing of this stranger – what if that wound came from another in self-defense? What if he weren’t all that he seemed? Had not her mother warned her about the cruelties of a kind face?
Ah, but that was quite a great assumption to make. Ecclesia had left her mother’s grove to strike out on her own, to find a purpose. She was tired of sitting on the sidelines, and while she had no horn to be a proper unicorn, she was wise enough to know a little bit of herbal remedies and healing. At the very least, she would not let fear rule her. . . she would speak to this stranger, and see if she might offer him any aid. Giving a small shake of her tail, the mare spoke up. “Excuse me, Sir, but . . . are you quite all right?” It was clear he was not, and a small part of her hated to interrupt, but what if he needed aid? What if he needed a helping hoof? He could be in shock, could not be willing to ask for assistance, could. . . well. . maybe he was just fine, but she could not deny that scent of blood. And if she smelled it, than predators might, too. At the very least, it didn’t hurt anyone to ask.
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Posted: Sun Jan 18, 2015 3:42 pm
Of course they would head his way. And why not? Wasn't everyone just keen to get up in another's business, nowadays? What if he didn't need or want help? Baellian's ears tipped backwards further, one practically pinned flat while the other was just relaxed enough to effectively catch the sounds of the approaching soquili. He didn't note much aside from the fact that she had to pelt to mark her as a skinwalker, or any defining features to help him have an effective guess as to whether or not she was at all hostile. And even the way she approached him, he couldn't be sure if he was just going off that.
The cerynei stallion felt the surging desire to flee begin to win over the urge to stand his ground and fight.
His muscles tensed and bunched while his mind tried to play a reasoning part in the situation he was in. Fleeing would only be a strain he could ill-afford to try and endure right this moment. His legs would remain cool due to the ever-present ice...and maybe he could lick it to get water out of that - a thought that had previously not occurred to him; but better late than never - but it was practically guaranteed that not only would he simply exhaust himself in racing away, he'd open his wound further, and that wasn't something he could tolerate. For, he was just as aware as the approaching soquili that the blood would draw predators.
They were close, now.
Too close.
With the mare calling out and asking as to the state of...well, probably everything about himself - physical and mental well being - Baellian swerved his hindquarters away from her, naturally keeping the part of himself most able to defend between her - for it likely was, as he heard the voice and took in her own form - and his wound. His lips pulled back in a stubborn, if somewhat menacing, line and his eyes stared balefully towards the purple mare with her unnatural eyes. Unnerving eyes. What sort of stock did she come from and what else was hidden if she had eyes like that? He didn't know, and the icy stallion certainly didn't intend on sticking around to find out. Not when he had no clue about her true intents and purpose out here.
"Fine. Let me be. Mind your own."
The rather crusty stallion's ears flattened. Now that she was right there, he had no issues in hearing her, and his physical appearance and staring, almost frost-rimmed eyes certainly did lend every bit of help they could to warding this mare away. Good intentions or no, she quite clearly made him uncomfortable, to say the very least. He didn't like it. She needed to go away.
But would he make her go away?
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Posted: Sun Apr 05, 2015 11:23 am
It was very clear with the stallion's behavior that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with her. As soon as she saw the stallion's ears flatten, as soon as she saw his body turn away, and his lips curl, the mare stopped her approach. The purple mare kept her own ears pricked, but lowered her head, and attempted to make herself look as small and demure as possible. It wasn't necessarily a difficult thing for the mare to accomplish: her mother was ridiculously petite, her father slighter than average, and Ecclesia was no an exception to either. Still, she didn't want the stranger to think her a threat. . .but she also realized that he himself might be one.
Just because he was wounded didn't mean he was an innocent victim. Furthermore, it was very possible he himself didn't want her help. Until he'd told her to mind her own, all Ecclesia could think about was helping him. Now that he'd objected, now that he'd told her to mind her own business, she was put in an odd predicament. Whatever was she supposed to do or accomplish? She didn't want to leave him bloodied and wounded, but she didn't want to force herself near or drive him away.
"Many apologies, then, sir," she quickly and contritely spoke, trying to figure out how to best deal with the situation. She was no unicorn, but she had a healer's heart. "I mean you no harm, or offense. I had simply wished to ensure you were well or . . . weren't in need of any assistance." Oh, oh she probably sounded like a fool. She wished she had a unicorn's horn so she might have offered some sort of anything; instead, she probably looked like a meddling filly who didn't know how to keep her nose out of another's business.
She didn't believe for a moment that he wasn't in need of aid but . . . . she wasn't sure how to tread this rickety ground. One wrong step could lead the stallion to lashing out or running away, or worse, further aggravating the wound on his back. Maybe she'd have no choice but to leave him alone. . . but somehow that still felt so wrong. Were the spirits simply trying to teach her a lesson? Was she supposed to learn how to leave others away? Was she truly meddling in another's affair? Oh, goodness, she hadn't meant to . . . he truly did look like he could use some sort of aid; direction to a unicorn, to a stream, to a . . . . anything.
Ah, but it seemed she wasn't very good at this. Still, the purple mare had a stout heart. She wasn't willing to flee quite yet. . . even if he looked angry with her.
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