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 Posted: Mon Aug 11, 2014 5:36 pm
Lalaith stood still.
The wind carried whispers and callings, the light shimmered gently as clouds drifted across the sky. She stood, still as a statue, watching the world and waiting for a time when she would be needed.
Days passed when she did not raise her voice in song. Whether resting from a particularly harrowing dirge or simply because she was not needed at the time, it was... nice... to be silent for a while.
And just... listen.
It was morning, though the sun seemed to yawn and forestall embracing those below in its warmth; night's cool chill lingered still.
A bird chirped not far away, greeting the day with a reclamation and affirmation of its territory. Something rustled in the brush. The daytime creatures were just beginning to stir, while those of the night tucked themselves away until the light would fade again.
Lalaith had watched through the night, a silent sentry, never leaving her post. She had remembered to eat, enough sustenance and cool water that she could take up her vigil for quite some time, and she was enjoying this peaceful time.
Closing her eyes, she took a deep and cleansing breath.
Good morning.
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Posted: Mon Aug 11, 2014 6:14 pm
(( General note: She hasn't given him the Dreamcatcher yet. wink )) Morning.
The stallion opened his eyes, glancing at the sky before shifting his hooves. His knees had been locked in sleep through the night- he stretched his tendons and blinked once to clear the sleep from his eyes.
His sleep schedule was irregular. Day, night. In between. Quick naps, long exhausted slumbers. He moved, sometimes, day and night, never stopping, pushing himself to his limits just to feel the strain.
It helped.
Somewhat.
It helped to dull the pain of seeing someone's accusatory stare, as if just being there was enough to cause offense. As if, just by living- just by drawing breath- he offended. He was subject to constant sour expressions, an occasional friendly face marred with pity, outright disdain and even bursts of mindless violence. Kalonas stirred into a frenzy by his mere existence. Angeni, wary and cautious, even those naturally accepting seeing the wisdom in being... careful.
As if he would harm anyone. As if he would let his temper get out of control.
He snarled, his expression turned sour as memories taunted him.
When he kept moving, there was less of a chance of anyone catching up.
He might increase his chances of encountering others by always being on the move, but at least he didn't have to stay and endure their judgment for long.
What was it, about his mixed appendages, that made others think they could just assume they knew him? That they could judge him?
He used to wait, after that first startled realization. Just to see... maybe this one... but, no. Now, he moved.
Their intake of breath, their sharp words, that hunted expression- he'd seen it too many times before, to have much faith or hope any more.
Ironic, wasn't it? The judgements they made- an individual torn between two extremes, unstable and dangerous, bitter and conflicted- their own actions helped those things come true.
He'd been... well. It didn't matter.
Shaking himself, he sighed at the tension in his limbs. He wanted to fly, but his legs needed to move.
He strode off in no direction in particular- just, not the one he'd come from- and tried to still his mind.
Let it go.
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Posted: Mon Aug 11, 2014 6:42 pm
The duality of a single day had always fascinated her. Two parts, one whole. Dark, light. Day, night. One word, for an entirety- and yet that same word was used for only half. Daylight, Moonlight, Starlight- all the same, just at different times. The full brilliance of untarnished sunlight, or the gentle reflection that was attributed to the moon.
These things were natural. Perhaps it was the limitations of language that lead to the multi-purpose yet exclusive use of a word.
Communication was a challenge many faced. Whether it was with another, or within one's own mind, it was difficult to express things clearly. To make one's true meaning known, without any loss of essence through interpretation or internal bias and mistakes. To transfer an idea, whole, to the mind of another- or to understand something that lay within.
Lalaith's songs could help, with that... reflection, understanding, acceptance. These were the things she offered, by providing and encouraging and environment in which they could be gained.
It was her... purpose.
To help, to give, to serve.
She was here, her voice was here, to Help.
To help some understand, and others forgive. To help those in emotional pain, to soothe those in turmoil.
She related to them, she understood them, and in so doing she saw- she felt- she heard- she sang their Need.
A spider crawled up her leg, looking for a place to build its web.
She smiled, her eyes still closed, serene as she monitored the noises all around.
There was a time for movement, and there was a time for... rest.
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Posted: Mon Aug 18, 2014 3:40 pm
The stallion strode on, heading towards 'Not here.'
Perhaps it was his own battle for self-acceptance that made the taunts of others so piercing. Feeling that internal struggle between light and dark, constantly, within- never feeling settled, never sorted, never just... at peace. Snarl, smile. Embrace, deny. Would he ever just... accept?
Letting out a breath, he closed his eyes for a few steady strides, just feeling the air move as he passed through it.
And, if he could... then, when?
When he next opened his eyes, he had to alter his course slightly to move around a cluster of small trees. Fragile things, bending in the light breeze, new to life and yet untarnished by winter's chill. He could have easily moved through them, crushed them, but he had never been needlessly cruel. He had defended, himself and.... others..., but he had never just taken his tension out on another soul.
It was that, more than anything else, that allowed him to cling to his Honor. He knew it, that would be enough. It had to be enough.
And why did he, alone, pass through life searching for just 'good enough'?
He snorted in exasperation. So much for letting it go.
His eyes, formerly fixed straight ahead, flicked towards a... a statue.
It had been a whisper of hair that had caught his attention, a mane like rock mixed with ash. Feathers, and.... ah. One of those.
He snapped his gaze ahead, then clenched his jaw and looked back at the mare who stood like stone.
The mare who seemed to be made of stone.
She was really, really... still.
Struggling with himself for a few moments, he shifted- and then looked down at his hooves, mildly surprised to see that their movement had stilled. Well. He'd apparently decided he'd chance another encounter before... deciding... it.
Letting go of that little puzzle, he waited, watching the mare as she stood. After a few moments passed with no movement at all, he wondered if she was asleep... or injured. Nostrils flaring, he scented the air- no blood. There had been no sign of struggle to place him on alert, any way.
Maybe she was just trying to avoid being seen.
Glancing at the trees and leaves behind her, at her grey form standing stark against the morning light, one eyebrow raised in question- marring his rather stern expression.
Well... that wouldn't work out very well.
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Posted: Mon Aug 25, 2014 6:13 pm
The sound of hoofsteps rang though the calm.
Sleep is required for the body and mind to sustain themselves. Naps can be used strategically to prolong the time between true sleep, but they could never replace it. Relaxation, too, can offer a momentary reprieve... but rest, true rest, is hard to come by.
Lalaith listened to the cadence of the other's stride, hearing the tension in each step even as movement stilled.
Rest, such as this mare meant, could be considered a form of meditation. A place where understanding sprang from quiet observation, neither judging nor assigning value to one thought or another, simply... being, and letting be.
It was easy for many to look upon others and judge, declaring one thing or another unfit or wrong or good and pure. This, that, those emotions, this body, that lifestyle... wrong, bad, lie, good, right, just, true.
Those of her kind were often in the position of Savior. Nurture, protect, help. She, too, was often considered such... but something that she had come to understand was, that sometimes those in need do not always want to change who they are. To 'grow out of that stage', or to 'grow up.' They may want to wallow in their self-pity or shove all blame upon another. Even if the desire for change is not there, they may not be able to change some things about themselves that they so despise. Change of self is not required for peace, only changing how one perceives oneself. No lies, no convenient forgetfulness about one's past or wrongdoings, simply understanding of it all and the ability to see without fear or hurt.
She did not 'fix', lest it be said that she 'fixed' their perception. She did not 'change', lest it be said she changed how they thought of themselves by showing them the entirety and leading them to self-discovery and fulfillment. She did not 'heal', unless it was simply meant that she healed... selves.
Lalaith opened her eyes, riding the thoughts and emotions that had swirled through her mind at the approach of this... being.
Pale pink eyes gazed gently out from the grey canvas, as the mare matched the visual to the tense stride.
"Hello."
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Posted: Tue Sep 30, 2014 4:18 pm
Yanisin drew in a sharp breath, locking away all traces of that flicker of amusement deep inside. She did not seem to be one who wished to hide, and even if she was- what right had he to wonder at her purpose?
Silver eyes met opaque as her eyelids rose to reveal the one who lay within.
A surge of yearning, a leap of tugging desire from deep within as his stomach clenched, and he fought for control; what?
Something in him reacted to something in her gaze, her voice- that lyrical voice that seemed to soothe and rile all at once. Hello. Just. A simple. Hello. Nothing more, she'd just opened her eyes- those eyes- and said hello.
He fought to keep his expression from twisting as he riffled through his thoughts, searching for the cause of his instinctual reaction.
She was a... 'pure one'. An Angeni, no mistake, portraying every physical feature of the race and- ... he paused, his mood darkening slightly.- and the mystical ones?
His lips twitched, starting to pull back in a snarl.
That race. Their powers. Some, drawn to a piece of this world or the celestial surround from which they drew their... abilities. He'd heard of those who controlled water, shifting the tides- of those who could communicate with all- of those whose domain seemed to be that emotion that was entirely unknown to him. That... feeling.
Whether to protect, to defend, to kindle a reaction in the mind of another- yes. There were powers.
And he had seen enough of the darker emotions that ran through them all to see that not all were entirely 'Pure' of mind, even if the tales would have them all believe they were Pure of spirit. They were creatures, living things, nothing more, subject to the same emotions and the same urges as all the rest. And if they got it into their minds that something was a threat- even if he'd never- he stopped himself- why was he defending himself to himself? Again?!- they... he took a deep, cleansing breath.
And focused on this mare in front of him once more.
A living, breathing creature, for all she looked like stone.
An Angeni, capable of producing some powerful reaction from him- he didn't even consider that it was just something completely inside him, locked away for so long, that had stirred- and he didn't even know her name.
His lips twitched into a sort of smile.
What did it matter? It would do him more good to know her Domain, that he might gather some knowledge of her powers.
Whatever she held over him.
But, she had made no move to attack; perhaps she didn't need to.
His mood soured further.
What was she... doing to him?
He stared, unable to make himself return her greeting for the count of many cleansing breaths.
That little flicker had died off- or so he assumed-, gone to hide in the face of his violent reaction, or perhaps waiting to steal over him once more.
Was this her prerogative? Lay in wait, like a lurking predator. Then ambush her chosen prey with those stunning eyes and her... her... self?
He sighed the thought away. Her voice was so kind, so true, so.... welcoming. As if he could go to her, share everything of him and she would accept it all and- was his mistrust a reaction to his own past, or to her? Some paranoia nurtured by too many times, too much bitter rejection as soon as they saw who he was. No... Who they thought he was, who they assumed he would be, based on their interpretation and snap judgements gleaned from what he looked like.
Was he, now, doing the same to her?
He considered the issue carefully.
One way to find out.
"Hello..."
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Posted: Tue Sep 30, 2014 5:31 pm
Sweet chaos.
Lalaith watched the stallion silently, willing to wait while he sorted out whatever flickered through his mind. He seemed to be fighting some internal struggle, if only from the tension that entered his features and then faded, those little twitches that seemed to reflect a thought here or there and yet represent all he would allow himself to show to.... a stranger.
She had seen that look of yearning in his eyes, hidden so deep that perhaps even he knew not what lay within.
And it had been so quickly replaced by those little hidden expressions, as if he feared to let too much of himself show. She was normally so good at reading others.
It helped her to know how she could ... sing.
She wanted to sing for him; she felt the sweet soaring notes gather in her throat, a song as chaotic as it was pure, but she swallowed them down.
She... tried... not to sing unless invited. And his guarded expressions- almost suspicious a times- seemed to say ... 'Why?'
Why was she standing here, why had she greeted him, why what... why is the world as it is, the sun the sky the moon and it all, why am I me and you are you and... why?
Perhaps the hardest question to answer, and she so yearned to help him find his truth.
She might be wrong- she was not a mind-reader, after all- and yet she felt such... chaos. In every line, every breath, tension all around and somehow both in reaction to everything around yet originating from internal turmoil, a demon of the self and of self-reflection and battle for self-knowledge and, perhaps... self-understanding.
'I can help you.' Words that she might feel, to an extent, and yet never utter. To tell another that you could help them... it was as good as saying 'you need help'. You're broken. You're wrong. You're misbehaving, this isn't right, you can't do it on your own and I know better so here let me do that for you.
Something like that was so foreign to every fiber of her being, and yet... she could understand, those who phrased things so indelicately and yet honestly. For them.
For her...
For her, it was more like... I can give you the means to see, to think, and to follow those internal paths that may remain hidden if not for my song.
An offering, no more no less, to be accepted or denied. Sometimes, she made that offering before they even know there was one to seek... and sometimes, she let them try on their own, respecting their pride or their stubborn resolve, waiting quietly until such time as they would be open to what little aid she could give.
For him...
No. For all that she might want to, she would never sing without his permission.
"I am Lalaith." After all... who, in any mind-set, would invite a stranger to sing?
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Posted: Tue Sep 30, 2014 5:52 pm
Resonance.
He circled around the thought carefully, keeping his eyes fixed on hers as he waited to see what kind of being she would turn out to be.
He was getting conflicting messages. He had been around enough, lived through enough, to develop a certain amount of skill in reading the subconscious signs of others. That muscle twitch that arrived just before an attack, a hooded gaze, a tinkle of amusement in the corners of their eyes or the gathering of breath for an accusatory yell that might draw help near. His cues to leave.
And yet she only seemed to give him cues to stay.
Nice, welcoming, melodic...
'Pure', threat, seductress...
When he focused on the feelings, narrowed in on them, he recognized that the second set was coming from the same paranoia that had lead him to question the motive of one who had merely offered a greeting.
There was nothing overt in her gaze, only a calm waiting as if to say 'when you're ready.'
And he... didn't know how he felt about that.
He felt uneasy.
But, was that him, or... an instinct reacting to something in her?
It took all his concentration not to shift from hoof to hoof. He would not behave like some foal, especially if any of this was intentional.
The mare spoke again, and she offered... herself.
He blinked.
Her name. Revising the thought, he frowned inwardly to himself, wondering at this sudden shift. She seemed to throw him off-balance, even if he had done the initial mental shoving himself, and he didn't... know. Why?
She hadn't even seemed surprised at his mixed appendages.
"Yanisin."
He said it roughly, surprising himself once more; he rarely offered his name, for those who knew it's meaning thought it oddly appropriate and might mock him for it.
And, yet, she had given him no reason for alarm... despite whatever she had triggered, he suspected that he had been alone for far too long to not react to the presence of another in a defensive manner.
And.... when her eyes had been closed, when she had been so still, she had just been... peaceful. No need to worry.
But when she opened her eyes... everything had changed.
... Why?
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Posted: Wed Dec 31, 2014 4:52 pm
Name.
A word that means: Me.
Given by another, most often by the parents who give one Life, twisted at times by cruel foals or rustled a bit by a doting aunt or uncle, and rarely even replaced by oneself when one comes of an age that they wish to shed all those syllables they'd been stuck with since birth and create something new for themselves. Whatever the meaning of the name, whatever the thoughts of the parents, not all liked their name- and not all gave it freely. Yet, even those who balked at the word mean to mean Me responded to that time-honored summons.
Yanisin.
His name, a glimpse into his Self, for those who were willing to see it.
They way he said it, his mouth forming those familiar syllables, his stance, those subtle cues. Me.
Self, meet Self.
A name was made powerful by one's actions. What does your Me-word mean to others? Do they think of laughter, of joy? Of sorrow and pain? Of a joke told at an inappropriate time, or a shoulder to cry on through he night? Are you a helper, a giver? A liar? A saint?
Lalaith- a word that meant Laughter, for a mare who rarely laughed. She understood the irony, though she appreciated that perhaps in time she could make others feel that splendid joy that bubbles over into sound. Contagious, lovely laughter- happiness, pure and simple, joy. I know Me, and I am free.
Will I ever hear your laughter, Yanisin?
She did not feel guilty for being curious; after all, it was no crime to wish another happiness, when she knew that she wished it from not a blind or dismissive place rather a happiness arising from secure self-knowledge and utter peace. There was, after all, such a thing as a... twisted laugh.
She neither judged nor took sides, merely felt that when one is behaving as one's truest self one can only be... happy.
Yanisin felt like he was waiting for her judgment. As though he knew, or has a shaky grasp, of himself, and yet it was constantly tested and tried by those around him who sought to told him who he was- how he would be- what he was capable of. Outsiders who tore in and thought they knew everything from a simple glance, those who assume and presume and attack unjustly. Neither unhappy nor happy, tensed and simply- waiting. Wondering. Existing, in this interlude between one moment and the next, the time between the locking of gazes and the first word.
How often in his life had this stallion endured a harsh word?
Too often.
No more.
"Welcome." Her voice rang clear, honest and thorough, caressing the gentle loving word as it left her parted mouth and made its way to his ever-waiting ears.
Don't wait for another, Yanisin... understand that you are the only one with power over yourself. And, yet, if I can do anything to put you more at ease, so you might come to this truth yourself...
Let me do all in my power, and reach far beyond.
She smiled.
"It is a pleasure to meet you."
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