Welcome to Gaia! ::

Chemosh had been slinking about, like the venomous snake he was, he was looking for the perfect place to strike from the shadows. He wrinkled his nose and narrowed his milky eyes against the stinging ash. The ground surrounding the area was ablaze and the smoke billowed upwards, noxious and black. The smoke was so thick that he sometimes could not be seen, his shadowy tail lashed behind him as he slunk through, creeping quickly towards the sound of shrill voices and the smell of blood.


Inkling had also heard the cries and had watched Chemosh creep into the smoke plumes, no doubt expecting to find his prey on the other side. Well this was the best part about stories, sudden and unexpected things happened all the time. And this book was getting interesting, She followed him, her ink swirling about her, furiously jotting down things upon her paper like scales. She stretched her wings as she walked through the smoke after the snake, she had been born of shadows and this was the perfect time to use them - as she strolled through the smoke, the darkness seemed to congeal around her, it dripped from her horns and her inky mane, she left wet black footprints that seemed to writhe like worms before settling into tame inky pools. She hadn't had any interest in getting involved in the fighting, but sometimes you just had to get your fangs wet to get the perfect story.


Chemosh came sliding out of the smoke to find Seance and Taraxippus defending against three winged opponents, He knew someone had been following him through the smoke, and by the sharp scent of ink and paper, he knew who it was - Inkling, also known as backup. With that in mind he charged over in front of Seance, his shadowy tail trailing behind him like a black flag. He turned to Canaan and grinned unnaturally wide to display an impressive mouthful of needle like teeth, hissing at him for good measure. He glanced out of the corner of his eye at Seance, though one could not really follow his gaze " Hello cousssin~ heard you were in sssome trouble."


Inkling seemed to carry the smoke with her like a cloak, coming out a bit farther from Chemosh she took in the situation and spotting Taraxippus with interest she tucked her wings and sped with purpose towards him, her papery scales whispering frantically in the wind. As she galloped towards him she spied another winged stallion about to strike at him, a plan formed, - "twenty feet, fifteen, ten. Once upon a time, there was darkness-" She felt her magic tingle like bubbles in her blood and she let it spill forth, the surrounding shadows caused by the smoke darkened and spread, throwing a shadowy blanket over the immediate area and effectively shrouding the shadow children on the ground, hiding them from their winged opponents. Inkling was sure her adopted herdmates would know what to do with this distraction, she could use this ability for a while longer, but didn't want to drain her powers too quickly, fighting was tiring work.
" Well this wont do, I think you both still have interesting stories for me, no use being ambushed and threatening that promise~ I hope you wont mind the intrusion."

Dip, Dive, climb, spin and hug the ground. Climb again. Teumesia's heart was begining to race, and suddenly the war was turning into something Teumesia was more familiar with. Direct conflict - that wasn't her specialty. But a chase, life or death, that was living. One of them - the big mare, balked, and the black one redirected. Her FIRST thought was that this was some kind of tactic: that he had thought to anticipate her movements. But no. Teumesia didnt have to turn her head to spot the flickers of smoldering embers and the coiling smoke on several patches along the herdground. Fire. It was on fire.

Was that part of the plan? An ear flicked back.

It didn't matter. She would escape, and this was her opportunity.

She angled her flight, and went straight for the thickest column of smoke, hoping to lose herself in the darkness.

NOTE: Thunderbird is maxed out

Thunderbird felt exhaustion pulling at him from every fibre in his being. After the lightning struck near the black beast, he felt even weaker.

He heard his mate, Stormcloud whisper to him to rest, and he fought against the exhaustion, poorly. How could he rest when the herd was under attack?!

That's when he saw the smoke. It felt like a massive rock had appeared in his stomach as he turned his attention from Barghest and towards the fires that dotted the herdgrounds.
"No...." He choked.

Fury and fear filled him as the stormclouds grew thicker overhead, and with all of his remaining strength, Thunderbird wished for... called for Rain.

But as much as the thunderheads gathered, as much as they lightninged and thundered, there was simply no rain to summon.

Exhaustion finally won at that last force of exertion, and Thunderbird found himself only just able to land by the river, barely conscious after the exertion.


In a battle with Barghest

Xibalba saw the great stallion flag above them as well, but the bone-masked stallion's eyes narrowed cautiously instead of of the mocking grin that his herdmate bore. Something was different about dat one. He seemed to weave and breathe with the spirits of the storm, dat one. It was almost like he was the wind himself. And Xibalba saw a different interpretation all together. As the stallion flew upwards, spread his wings - that was when the storm intensified.

Xibalba drew in a breath. He was calling the storms. Never for a moment did the soquili doubt that that magic was possible. But he had never seen it done so... directly.

Hesitance began to bloom in the stallion's breast. What sort of herd were they attacking that bore the favor of the spirits in such an awe-some manner? And this mare - he saw her now as she landed before them - she crackled with electricity in the same way that his herd ebbed with shadow.

He took a step back. "Dese... be de elements, Barghest. We should not be fighting... dey are de storm... we are de shadow. We belong under de mountain. Dey belong up here."

"STORM!" He called to the mare before him, not even realizing that that was actually a component of her name. He called her what he saw - the storm itself. "We have made a grave mistake being here! Dese be your lands. It is meant to be."

He turned to leave, simple as that, hoping that his appeal to these spirits was enough.

It was then that he, too, saw and smelled the fires. He had not even seen them spring up, but they were spreading so quickly. He needed to get out of there - and fast - while the path was still open. He could not fly like many of his bretheren.