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 Posted: Wed Jun 18, 2014 4:04 pm
 They whispered softly to one another as the familiar figured sank further away into the darkness her lantern bouncing along the side of her neck. Moros watched until not even the twinkling of its glow could be seen with his own eyes before turning west of her direction his wings stretching out before tucking them tightly to his side. The stars faint lights glittered in the sky, as the moon’s round face did not dare to linger in such perfection of brilliance. A soft breeze lingered along the trees newly budded branches before drifting on taking away the warmth of the day’s heat. It was the sort of night that Moros could have easily flew following the lantern’s light in the forest however for a change he did not budge his body from the ground.
Why do you still not speak to her? The familiar voice whispered in his ear, as he flattened his ears in annoyance by the simple question. When his brother and he had realized their sister was still alive, Charon had charged Moros to talk to her, to invite her home but he had refused and rebelled against him. It was better that their mother believed her only daughter was dead, for Moros it was the only way to keep her safe and alive. Instead he had watched over from the shadows, keeping eyes on her safety whenever need be but never showing his presences to her. She would have so many questions, question he didn’t want to answer, questions he didn’t want her to know answer too and to keep her as far away from finding any of it out. It was better of existing as the dead.
Of course he doesn’t, they would kill her if they knew, hehehehehehehehehe, kill her yes! Still ignoring the spirit’s responses he picked up his pace through the woods until he reached the edge of the tree line, his curls fluttered as the open breeze picked them up and dragged them across his back. Slowly he started to walk along the edge-avoiding going out into the open. Even with the blackness of the night he didn’t trust not being seen.
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Posted: Mon Aug 04, 2014 4:40 pm
Oh, it wasn't always the case, of course. Most recently he'd met that pink coated unicorn whom had tried so hard to lure him out in conversation. She had accused him of being darker than she, or better than she, or some such nonsense, if only because he did not comply with her fantasy world. He had walked away much confused and thoroughly aggravate by the pushy mare, and since then had been extra cautious about where he trod.
Chandar was not a particularly social creature, for all that (perhaps) a small, insignificant, sliver of him might wish for companionship. It was a side of him he had never properly acknowledged, a side he kept repressed, for it didn't matter -- he had learned from a young age that one could only depend on oneself, and putting any sort of trust or faith in others was a foolish mistake. He didn't make friends, and he didn't want friends. . . Alone was, perhaps, for the best.
He had never learned manners or etiquette, was often cold and entirely aloof, and generally did whatever he could to push those that poked, pried, fussed, and forced themselves upon him, out! He didn't need them, he didn't need anybody. . . He had the shadows, he had his hooves, and that was all he desired. This night, of course, was no different.
So it was, the stallion picked his way through the edge of the woods, knowing there was a small stream that cut through the plains and into the forest. A drink would serve him well, and if crickets were his only companions, then the night would be a good one indeed. Blue eyes cautiously navigated, but a strange scent wafted among the breeze, causing the stallion to hesitate. Worse yet, a misplaced hoof fell on a dry and fallen twig, and the sharp snap! was heard. Chandar winced, ears flattening in self-aggravation -- he should have been more careful! Slowly but surely, the stallion carefully continued on his way, hoping to avoid any that might investigate his movements.
Little did he know, he was making a bee-line towards Moros. Neither of them, it seemed, wished to leave the sanctuary of the woods.
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Posted: Mon Nov 03, 2014 9:23 pm
Their voices still giggling in his ear as the scent of water rose in the air, the stream wasn’t far but so was something else that he could sense. The stallion paused his eyes looking for movement as he tried to listen for the familiar noise leaves and twigs breaking under weight, the smell of dirt as it shifted from the ground any sign of something larger than a small creature of the forest.
“Drown, they tired to drown her hahahahahahaha. Off a cliff off a cliff she went. Maybe this is where she rolled upon its shore upon its shore.” Its voice rang loud into Moros’s ear as he growled in annoyance snapping his teeth at the ethereal body as it danced around his body. Whatever beast was out there it could hear him now there was little doubt to the stallion but he would not concern himself unless need be. Unlike his brother Charon’s thin frame Moros was much larger and from experiences of dealing with those who dared to come near he tended to frighten off with sheer size and kalona traits. He was not particularly fond of other soquili, most being too bright in their own little world to care beyond their shallow shell. Others were just annoying in particular chatting about useless information and even more so always wanting to linger in the light of the day. Darkness always hid things, they hid him and they hid the spirits that still existed in the world, and it hid the sins no one willed others to see. No how hard other’s tried they hid things yet spirits always say always chatted. Chattered too much, always knowing and greeting others even those he could not see telling secrets and stories of others.
The stallion continued to move keeping his direction towards the stream ahead his thoughts swimming as he thought about his sister and her fate. The two spirits danced greeting others, their chattering growing closer to the stream they moved.
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Posted: Sat Mar 21, 2015 1:27 pm
Chandar approached the stream cautiously, a weight in the air settling upon his shoulders. There was a new tension, and it wasn't just from his aggravation of stepping on a twig. No, instinct told him that he wasn't alone, that there was something, or someone, blanketed in the shadows of night. A fellow traveler, an enemy, a monster . . . He could not say, but he was certain he heard something, certain there was a flicker of movement between the foliage. The crickets had stopped their chirping, the frogs had finished their croaking, and a silence lingered. . . .
Thankfully, Chandar wasn't afraid of anything. He wasn't going to let the possibility of bumping into something keep him from his drink. He wasn't weak, he wasn't going to be stopped! He'd lived through one bearwalker attack, he could certainly live through another. So it was, the stubborn beast picked his way forward, watching the streambanks carefully.
A movement caught the corner of his eye, the the stallion's instincts were correct -- there! Another soquili stepped out further down, a creature that looked nothing like him. What little moonlight shone down caught something with horns, wing, and a brighter splash of color. Chandar's eyes narrowed defensively, knowing full well that kalona or kalona-crosses weren't the sort to mess with. Chandar, thankfully, was equal-opportunity spiteful, and other than giving Fovos a dubious look, he said nothing. No, he cared not what another did, so long as they left him alone. Stepping up to the stream bank, the stallion lowered his head to drink, but kept his ears pricked, and his body tense. He'd be ready to fight or run in a moment. . . . Just let Fovos try to pull something. Hmph!
hanging gallow Are his spirits visible to all or just Fovos?
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