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 Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2016 4:00 am
After years of trying, I have embraced the fact that I not very enthusiastic about seeing an entire RP through from start to finish. Here are some shorts instead.
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Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2016 4:05 am
Quote:  Lady Ashton stretched in the morning light, the motion shaking off the snow that had settled atop her while she slept. Bright blue eyes were quick to scan the scene: her armor and tea set, protected from the element by a thick cloth; her travelling companion, Bitey; the remains of last night’s fire—and blood?
“I’m sorry to wake you so early, Bitey,” she said, polite but curt. “Our charge has escaped.”
Quote:  “Wha—?” Bitey tried valiantly to respond, but each attempt was replaced by a yawn bigger than the last. She squinted up at dawn’s early light, curling around tighter against the cold. Lady Ashton was the military mare, not her—she usually wasn’t woken until the mare had gone through her morning exercises, polished her armor, and prepared breakfast.
Irritation gave way to concern when she realized Lady Ashton had skipped routine entirely, and she soon saw why. She looked from the blood to the tree where Jeremiah had been tied the night before, the knots made and placed in such a way that he couldn’t have reached them no matter how hard he tried. The rope itself was of high quality, and while it might not have been impossible to chew through, surely it could not have been cut in only a single night. Yet, here it was, the ends too frayed to suggest the work of a weapon.
Shaking her head, she stomped out the rest of their fire. It looked like they wouldn’t be staying around for breakfast.
Quote: Lady Ashton slid into her armor while Bitey inspected the area, deferring to the mutant mare’s sharp eye and tracking skills. When the mare started off, she followed, keeping watch for enemies.
They had found Jeremiah and two of his cronies ganging up on a stallion yesterday. While his underlings managed to escape (though not without harm), Jeremiah himself had been successfully captured. The stallion had only minor injuries, and rushed home to warn his herd. Lady Ashton and Bitey were to take Jeremiah there to receive justice, but their travelling had been slowed by his rope-bound legs, and he’d escaped. Had his companions returned to rescue him? Lady Ashton was a light sleeper, and no stranger to watch duty. She’d been confident neither he nor his people had the skill to slip past her. This, she thought bitterly, was payment for her hubris. But now was not the time for self-reprimand.
She sped up to reach her companion, and soon the two were running side by side.
Quote: Bitey ploughed through, steps quick as they bounded over the snow. But while the trail was fresh and conspicuous (clearly their goal – for Bitey saw not one set of tracks, but two – had been speed over stealth), they soon entered the deep woods, where the tracks stopped.
She ground to a halt, head low and mouth slightly parted to better take in the smells. While the tang of Jeremiah’s blood led her for a while, that, too, stopped. Large, sliced leaves nearby showed why: they had likely been used to mask Jeremiah’s wounds. The strangest thing of all, however, was that she could not seem to find the scent of his companion.
The two spent the rest of the day hunting through the woods, but when the moon rose to its full height, they were forced to give up.
Quote: “They could be anywhere by now,” Lady Ashton said, trying to soften the blow of their defeat with pragmatism. A sigh, while their after-dinner tea boiled over the fire. “We’ll have to return to the herd tomorrow, and tell them what happened.”
At least they weren’t hungry anymore.
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Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2016 4:10 am
Quote:  Jeremiah looked steadily at his newfound companion, keeping pace with her despite his sore legs. His ankles had been bloodied, rubbed raw in his attempt to escape his rope shackles. It was only with Jinko’s sharp teeth that he’d been able to escape at all. Even now some remnant of rope remained atop him, bound around his neck and sides, like a tamed animal. Their weight was a reminder of his humiliation, but he was not one to hold grudges.
He turned his attention away from the mares that had captured him, to the mare that was before him instead. Her hair was long and scraggly, a tangled beast of its own right. Yet despite that disheveled appearance, she moved with liquid grace, a natural predator born of wood and shadow. She was at home here, in these deep woods; she wore its foliage like a second skin. And, ah, how sure her steps were, despite the dusk that shrouded them. If he listened close and traced her path, he did not trip quite as often.
“Why did you rescue me?” he asked after a time, though he said it more to stave off the silence than out of any real expectancy. He had been speaking to her for hours now, after he’d been sure they’d lost pursuit. She did not deem it fit to answer; had not even deemed it fit to chew off the rest of the ropes once his legs were unbound. “Perhaps you’ve fallen in love with me?”
Quote:  Words, words, words. They fell from his lips like shattering glass, stinging her ears as they ricocheted against the trees. He had taken his friends and beaten the stallion who had tried to kill her mother. He helped her, and she helped him in turn. So why did he hurt her this way?
“Ssstop,” she told him, her throat so dry her words came out with the harshness of age, rather than the clarity of her true, youthful years. Unfortunately, he took her literally and stopped in his tracks. She was too tired to correct him. Even more unfortunate: he caught his mistake, and pursued her again—him and his mouth of daggers. What agony. Her muscles tensed, her neck arched—who knows what might have happened if she did not feel the comforting tightness against her throat.
Quote:  Coaxoch curled around the mare’s neck, coiling higher.
“My daughter,” she crooned, voice barely audible. Her tongue flickered against Jinko’s ear as she spoke. “See how quick he was to lisssten. You need only tell him what you want.”
She raised a wing and stroked the mare’s cheek. Jinko was patient, but soquili always frustrated her. When she thought her child sufficiently calmed, she glided soundlessly to the ground. It looked as if the stallion wouldn’t drop dead anytime soon. She would have to hunt elsewhere.
Quote: “Fine,” Jinko said, just as quietly. It was easier to speak like this, voice a low murmur—but she knew others could not hear her unless they were near... and she did not let anyone but her mother so close. Others were too warm, and too hairy.
“You’re free now,” she told him. She tried to speak down to him, as if he were a child (why would he follow her, after all, unless it was because he thought he was still imprisoned—surely it was not because he wanted to), but her voice came out flat. Too much effort was spent on making herself heard in the first place to bother with tones. “You ssshould leave.”
Quote: Jeremiah smiled. Was he finally getting a rise out of her? He continued to poke and prod, but it seemed his words had gone back to being ineffective. Baffling. She had gone through such trouble to rescue him, using her familiarity with the woods to get past his jailors. After expending the effort, one would think she’d be more invested in what he had to say. If she was a hired hand, he would have understood her apathy, but that was not the case. Perhaps the mare knew his sister, Delilah, and was as protective of her as he? The only reason he was even involved in this was because the stallion had made his sister so flustered. He and his guards had struck the stallion from behind when the stallion was distracted with a snake.
Ah, but Delilah would have mentioned such a strange mare, if the two of them were friends. He shook his head.
“Leave? Already?” They’d reached the thinner parts of the forest, and he squinted against the light. They had walked all night to reach the other side of the trees.
Despite his skill with people, he could not read her—could not see the turmoil beneath her surface. She was as unreadable as a snake and, blind as he was to her feelings, he was sorely tempted to stay. But he felt suddenly raw and exhausted—that was the power of the sun for you—and such base needs overcame his curiosity.
“Another time, then?”
She left him without a word.
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Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2016 11:46 pm
Quote:  Axelle listened, her mouth a grim line, as Bitey and the guard told of the prisoner’s escape. In the past, she and her herd would have looked forward to tearing the prisoner apart. If their quarry got away, they would have directed their pent up excitement to kill their weakest member instead.
Now, she only sighed, wings folding closer to her sides as the herd elders offered words of assurance. You did your best, thanks for trying, and so forth. The mares insisted on staying to help, but it made no difference. The herd had no roots here, and would be off soon anyway; they were not so hungry for vengeance from a stranger that they would halt all plans to hunt him down, or impose on the mares more than they have. There was neither anger nor disappointment in elders’ words, and no unspoken tension in the air.
Is this what peace looked like?
She packed the bags when the two mares left; she was to carry them, in exchange for being able to travel as part of the herd. She did not need their protection, or their shelter—it was their lessons she was after.
Quote:  “Demon dogs, a sea monster, and now even roaming vagabonds? Is no place safe?” Despite her words, Moira’s tone was light and teasing. The herd may have faced many trials, but none of their members had been seriously wounded. Such was the benefits of large numbers, eh? Still, she’d miss hearing their stories. Drama, adventure, suspense—what a life! For a time, she had considered becoming an explorer herself, living tales instead of telling them. But she was too attached to her family to leave them, and her own life with Alder was only just beginning. Perhaps when their children were grown, they could consider a trip. For now, she smiled at her swollen belly, eyes soft.
Then, turning back to herd member closest to her (a mare she was sure she had met, if only briefly, as a foal), “Where do you think you guys’ll be going next?”
Quote: Axelle glanced up at the question, but didn’t stop in her work. She hooked her clawed wings around the handles, and expertly slung the bags over her back. She shifted, testing their weight and balance for the road ahead, her expression thoughtful.
“The mountains, I think. I know they were interested in visiting the desert beyond.” If she flew, she could reach it within a matter of weeks—but the majority of the herd were landed breeds, and it would take them months to see it. She thought about it, rolling the idea of such a ponderous journey in her mind... and realized she was actually looking forward to it. Perhaps she had learned something from the herd already.
With a soft smile, she dipped her muzzle in farewell before trailing after the rest of the herd.
Quote: Moira’s ears perked at the mare’s words. The way she spoke about their plans indicated the mare didn’t consider herself a part of the herd. A newcomer? What was she doing with this group then? Did she need the safety of numbers to rescue a childhood companion? Protect a sacred artifact? Perhaps she was an agent in disguise, and getting into the herd’s good graces would help her unravel a centuries-old conspiracy.
Moira closed her eyes, mind full of deadly desert bandits and treacherous mountain trails. She’d heard the sands could burn—an almost comforting thought, while the snow still covered the surrounding ground. Her interest was piqued, but she kept her questions to herself. She merely nodded and waved goodbye.
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Posted: Thu Jan 28, 2016 1:07 am
Quote:  “Shrubbery! Shrubbery!” Mimsy Grum shivered against the cold, trotting steadily through a drift of snow. Not around it, not on top of it, but through it. If one looked from the right angle, they could see a hole in his exact shape. Mimsy, on the other hand, could not see a thing. The snow was higher than he, and he felt it too much of an effort to try and climb up. Instead, he continued to cry out, certain that his friend would hear him. Unfortunately for him, while his voice may have been amplified in his confinement, it was muffled to the outside world.
Quote:  Ishvar was an observant foal, and wiser than his years. Other foals might have lost Mimsy and left the green-haired colt to fulfill his dreams of becoming a popsicle. Ishvar merely breathed slowly (a trick he’d learned to keep his temper even), and eventually found the foal within the largest snow pile in the area.
“Get out of there,” he said, staying cautiously outside. The snow looked like it was about to cave in at any moment; if so, he’d have to be one to dig the foal out. It would do no good for him to follow Mimsy in and get the both of them trapped.
Quote: “You’ve found me, you’ve found me!” Mimsy said with a laugh. He circled once, twice, searching for the blue colt and seeing only snow. He looked behind him, squinting at the tunnel he’d made. He looked to his side, squinting at where his friend ought to be. With not a second wasted, he followed the second path. Exploding out of the snow, he barreled right into Ishvar, sending them both sprawling.
“Hello hello, Shrubbery my dear!” he said in greeting, adopting a high-pitched tone in hopes of better conveying the sincerity of his gratitude. “You’ve done what no other could! You’ve—you’ve—achoo!”
Quote: Mimsy’s voice had climbed so high, it was beginning to sound like a breathless squeal. “I get it!” Ishvar cried, momentarily losing his calm—but too late. Mimsy choked and sneezed all over the blue colt.
He stood still as stone, feeling spit and snot and who-knows-what drip from his coat. It was only when Mimsy broke into wild laughter that he stirred from his shock.
“Mimsy...” he chided, but stopped himself short. He knew a hopeless situation when he saw one. Mimsy was the type of foal who took a name like “Ishvar” and decided the most appropriate nickname was “Shrubbery.” (Apparently, Ish reminded him of fish, which reminded him of smell, which reminded him of flowers, which reminded him of a bush. Or, something like that.) The green colt had levels of optimism and confidence that he couldn’t ever hope to shake with a simple scolding. Though, saying it like that, he supposed it wasn’t a bad thing.
“Come on,” he said with a resigned sigh, ferrying the still-laughing colt close and pushing them both to their feet. “My home’s close by—let’s get you warmed up.”
Quote: Mimsy conceded, running circles around the shorter foal. He supposed it wasn’t the kindest thing to have hacked and sneezed all over his savior.
Full of good intentions, he rubbed his nose all over Shrubbery while they walked, gathering as much of the blobs as he could. He stared, cross-eyed, at the accumulated lump resting atop his nose, and in conspiratory tones whispered, “I’ll name you Shrubbery Jr.”
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