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 Posted: Sat Jul 19, 2014 4:00 am
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Posted: Sat Jul 19, 2014 4:05 am
Ryuukishin Garland treaded the edge of the swamps, taking in the mud and water and even more mud with a cautious eye. It had been months since he’d woken to find himself in the desert, with another’s blood splashed against his legs and belly. It was clear there had been a fight – and, perhaps, something worse. He didn’t know who it had been or why he’d attacked, but through luck and desperation had managed to trace his steps back to this swamp.
The environment was slow, almost lifeless, but even so he doubted much physical evidence of his time would remain here. He sighed; more likely than not, he’d have to rely on witness testimonies, and from the past few months alone he knew how unreliable some could be. Still, it was better than nothing. He couldn’t move on until he knew what had happened... and what he’d done.
Steeling himself, he entered the swamp lands. hanging gallow She had lost her, of course she had lost with those oversized wings of her she could just easily float off into the sky and be gone. A hissed escaped from her lips as she trotted along the edge of the swamp her hat flapping along her forehead as the skull danced along her shoulder. Terror would have to chew her out of course of course! Then maybe afterwards she could convince her, convince the green mare to show her how to grow wings too and fly.
Or give her dragon. A dragon would be acceptable.
Scrappy just muttered as he looked at Terror, the swamp, why the swamp? Didn’t the red mare have any idea that he was nothing more than a free lunch for anything with large oversize teeth? Any moment something would come leaping out of the mud white fangs and all and gobble him up in a bite. Stupid mare! Why did they have to adopt her anyways? Ryuukishin The sound of footsteps was not difficult to discern – either his own or the nearby stranger’s – what with the squelching and splashes that accompanied their every step. He cocked his head, ears tilting towards the other. He heard no faltering gait, nor any sign that his company might be unwelcome (save for a rumble that sounded suspiciously like muttering). Taking this for encouragement, he immediately changed course to intercept the stranger. The road was growing increasingly watery, and a loud POP POP POP accompanied him.
“Excuse—“ poppop “—excuse me,” he called, forced to slow down with the floor’s increased suction. hanging gallow Maybe she could turn Scrappy into some sort of fat bunny dragon that breathed fire and had little spikes all over his back. That was highly possible with uni magic wasn’t it? There had to be something else that her horn was useful for other than healing cuts and bruises (something she seemed to get a lot of). She was about to say something to the little hare before the noise of excuse and popping noise sounded. Leaning down to the mud she stared at it for the moment.
“Hello…. Hello Mr. Mud what do you want and if it's to tell me I can’t walk here sorry but until you give me a dragon I will have to walk on you.”
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Posted: Tue Aug 05, 2014 6:24 pm
Ryuukishin Garland froze. It was not the mare’s words that surprised him so much as her vivid black-and-red pelt. A flicker of recognition ran through him, bringing with it fear and a heavy guilt. But it left as soon as it had come, leaving him staring blankly in the mud.
Finally, “O-oh! No, I wouldn’t tell you that.” He looked hesitantly over both shoulders to make sure there were no draconian creatures in the vicinity. “And I’ve no dragons to give. But being walked on does not sound very pleasant,” he added.
It was difficult to tell from where he was, but he suspected she was not really talking to him at all. hanging gallow She stood there staring at the mud watching it bubble up along it surface and than popping, splashing her on her nose. Wrinkling her brows together she frowned as the mud replied that it wouldn’t be providing her with a dragon.
“Not even a tiny dragon? How about turning Scrappy into a dragon? Will that work? Or wings I would take dragon wings?” Terror replied as a wicked grin spread across her muzzle, “and no being walked on by little hares isn’t fun. It tickles.” Scrappy just rolled his eyes at her as he hopped around, of course the mud wasn’t talking someone had to be near.
Question was who? Ryuukishin “I’m sorry, I don’t think I can do that, either,” Garland said. Was it normal to expect such a thing in the swamps? He’d heard of scaled, leather-winged soquili that could boast some mastery of the elements. Ulun’suti they were called – a still relatively new breed, and one he’d been interested in studying, should he ever find a subject. It was possible she’d lost a friend fitting the description, but he doubted it.
“A hare?” Garland had steadily been sinking into the mud since their conversation began; he’d been too busy wondering how he might cut into the conversation and ask ‘have we met before?’ to realize he ought to have asked for help first. Already his ankles were stuck firm. At the very least, he could still catch glimpses of her between the trees.
“Are you busy, perchance?” he finally asked in desperation, rocking to and fro to try and loosen the mud’s hold. hanging gallow It didn’t’ take Scrappy very long to find the blue stallion among the pathetic green stalks of grass. It wasn’t much of a hiding place but it was good enough that with Terror’s lack of focus she wouldn’t notice him. Flattening his ears he stared at him before scooting back closer until he bumped into Terror.
“What you don’t want to be a dragon Scrappy, you know how much cooler you would be? As for you Mr. Mud,” Terror began as she ignored Scrappy’s tugging on her tail. “You suck. Suck. Suck. Sucky suck suck. Can’t give me a dragon and you smell.” Shifting her feet she stuck her nose high in the air and started forward slowly, her feet making a loud sucking noise before finally going POP.
“As for a matter of fact no, I am not busy why do you care mud.”
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Posted: Thu Sep 11, 2014 3:31 am
Ryuukishin The hare! Garland struck it with his most pleading eyes and waved his tail happily when it ran back to its red-coated companion. He breathed out a sigh of relief, mistaking the mare's words as one of observation.
"Yes, indeed! The mud has taken quite a hold on me, and-- and-- pardon me?" He realized she was still looking at the floor. He spoke louder, hoping to draw her attention to his corporeal form. "Oh... well, I apologize. I admit, I haven't been able to find a good bath for a long while. Is... is it common, then, for one to be able to procure dragons?"
Garland's sense of etiquette wouldn’t let him bring up the subject of his rescue again, when her senses were so clearly affronted by his lack of capacity. He was glad, then, that she was the one to ask him directly.
“You see, Miss, um..., Miss. I am quite stuck in the mud. Over here.” hanging gallow At this point Scrappy was yanking on her tail hard enough for her to finally turn around and stare at him with a puzzled annoyed face. Watching him point she finally made the slow connection of why the mud claimed its name was Garland and why it wouldn’t give her a dragon.
“Oh. So you’re the stinky hobabloo aren’t you hmph,” Terror replied letting her hat flop down as she peered at him a little closer. Scrappy tugged again at her tail shaking his head and muttering something about the how useless her brain was. Ignoring the comment she looked back at the stallion.
“I am Queen of the dragon’s Marsarawr the Greatest Great of All!” Letting her voice gradually get louder she puffed her chest out before letting it slowly deflate. “No……. there isn’t any dragon’s around here really……. But have you seen one?” Perking her ears up she had hope, hope one day she would see a real dragon, not one of those little suti things that pretended they were the greatest things on earth next to the angeni’s but a real dragon.
Scrappy just smacked his head on her foreleg, “You useless dolt! That stallion there was the one! Remember the nutso?” Ryuukishin Garland’s tail visibly flagged when the mare took notice of him, feeling help was imminent. Neither she nor Scrappy were suffering as he did, which he attributed to expertise over the region rather than luck or the simple fact that they were on drier ground.
“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Queen of the dragon’s Marsarawr, the Greatest Great of All,” he said with a bow. He would have lifted a hoof, too, were it not firmly implanted. “Do you have a nickname, perhaps? And I’m afraid I’d never seen a dragon, though I would like to,” he added.
Just in case the bubbling noise forming below him was not obvious enough, he looked pointedly at his feet, and would have accompanied the gesture with a description had not Scrappy claimed the Queen of the dragon’s Marsarawr, the Greatest Great of All’s attention before him. And—what?
“'Remember me'? Have we met before?” he asked, an increased urgency in his voice. hanging gallow Scrappy nearly started to sputter as he pointed a paw at the stallion, “WHAT DO YOU MEAN HAVE WE MET BEFORE!? YOU ALMOST TRIED TO TRAMPLE ME INTO THE DIRT! MINCE HARE FOR DINNER!” His face began to turn a reddish color as threw his paws up into the air and walked along on his hind. “THE NERVE OF SOME!” Turning he glared at the stallion before folding his arms across his chest and huffed as he sat down on his legs.
Terror raised a brow as she looked at the hare and then back to the stallion, as if trying desperately hard to remember something. Shrugging she gave shake of her head as she replied, “Yes I have a nickname it is Terror. As for remembering you maybe….. it’s a little fuzzy and blah blah not really interested in digging through the mess I just want a dragon so if you don’t have onnneeee I’ll be going soon.”
There was little to no doubt that the three unsuspecting visitors to her swamp had yet to notice the mare lurking in the tall reeds. Instead they merely chatted on about some nonsense and believing in dragons and about owning one. Much like her dealing with her brother Fume furrowed her brows and merely shook her head in annoyance.
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Posted: Wed Oct 01, 2014 9:15 pm
Ryuukishin Garland flinched at the hare’s words; it was not the first time someone had claimed he’d been aggressive. But never before had another told him that he’d instigated an attack. It made sense – when he woke up in the desert months ago, with a portion of his memory lost, he’d found a pattern of blood upon his legs and belly that made it clear someone had taken the brunt of his hooves. But neither the rabbit nor the mare looked hurt, and he was sure the mare at least would remember if he had ki-... if he had taken a life.
“I apologize,” he said softly, unable to look at them. At least, until he raised his eyes again in alarm. “W-wait! Where are you going? Could you tell me more?”
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Posted: Wed Oct 01, 2014 9:23 pm
“Yes yes I be going now, there are no dragons here so there is really no point for Terror to linger around anymore,” the red mare replied as she twitched her tail and abruptly turned on her hooves. “And nope nope I will tell you nothing else even if you apologize, if you had asked the hare nicely maybe he will tell!” With that Terror took off in an upbeat trot her hat flopping with each step as the mud splatted along the ground.
Scrappy just stared at stallion with the deepest glare on his small face before sighing and throwing his paws down. “Fine since you apologized,” there was a small hint of rolling his eyes, “there isn’t much to tell you. You sort of appeared out of no where rambling on some sort of gibberish about land and protecting and plants, poison, witchy brew and something about going or looking for someone you needed for something. Really it was more of a whirlwind of fury that sort of swept us up and dumped us elsewhere.” Getting to all fours he started to move towards the shrubs where Terror had disappeared, “Goodluck mate.”
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Posted: Wed Oct 01, 2014 9:50 pm
Finally! Garland had something, though the information was so unexpected he could not help but to question its validity. Him, gibbering? Not everything that came out of his mouth could be short of genius, but really. Why plants? Why witches? And, most frightening of all, why the fury?
He’d been disappointed as a child when he found other foals his age had at least one parent who loved them; he’d been frightened out of his wits when an adventure gone wrong resulted in a full-grown bear chasing him; he’d even had small, tiny birds harass the daylight out of him. Yet never once had he raised a hoof in anger. The claim that he’d antagonized the pair was the most unlikely, yet the most true. How else would he explain the blood he’d found, back in the desert where he’d finally regained lucidity?
“Are you leaving me?” he cried, voice think with regret and despair. But the two were already gone, and, stuck as he was, he could not follow.
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