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 Posted: Fri Oct 05, 2007 6:21 pm
It was a beautiful afternoon with the sun slanting through the trees and casting happy, dancing shadows of the leaves that it bounced off of. It was the perfect place for the female to get away from everything. Golden hooves dug into the ground silently, pressing up and moving her further on through the canopy of trees that the forest offered.
Gold-tipped wings glinted in the shadowy light and she had a fond smile on her lips, ear listening intently to the birdsong that the creatures of the forest made. Every little thing came together in its own little symphony and left the little gemling in complete amazement.
The world was a place full of awe and Gemma, newly grown, was just now seeing things differently from a filly's eyes. Such a naive little thing, she'd been, too! But even now there was a soft naivety about her that showed on her face. A filly on the brink of adulthood, if one was to be honest. On the threshold of child and mare.
Awkward, yet graceful in her own way. Today, she seemed more graceful than awkward as she slid herself through the shadows and cast her own happy lights. Today. Today was the perfect day for an adventure and a quiet walk.
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Posted: Fri Oct 05, 2007 6:55 pm
 He had heard of the depths of despair. He had even pretended to be caught in them himself several times, during his imaginings. But now he knew them. Intimately. Their shadows rolled about his heart like the mist from the sea. Oh, that cruel, bitter sea. How it had mocked him, letting him weave his own illusions, then bringing one born of her depths to enter his dream, to fool him with play, to let him decieve himself. Oh, what a true fool he had been. A dreaming, idiotic fool.
He still lay where he had collapsed the night before. He had lain there all night, unconcious or asleep, who knew which? Creeping bugs stirred by morning breezes had woken him. He had rolled up to tuck his forelegs beneath his chest, but he had not moved since. He had simply laid there, staring at the bugs as they crawled and scurried about in the dirt, or over his legs. His mind had simply stopped functioning, and he occupied himself in the lives of these insects. Just a day or two ago, he'd have said that they had much scope for his imagination, but now that would only earn a sour laugh from him.
His imagination had been the undoing of him, and now he'd gone and done what he had always dreaded. He'd fooled himself that a mare loved him. He had told himself a lie. It didn't matter that he'd done his best to make it right, to do the proper thing in the midst of his confusion. All that mattered was that he had been right. The world was no place for the likes of him, and didn't want him dwelling in it.
So for now, he merely sat, almost two days without food or water. He was blind to his own needs, his body quiet in its pleas so far. But before long, hunger pains would strike, driving him from his stupor. Thirst would bring his mind back to his body and force him to rexeperience the pain in his soul. But for now, he merely sat, curled up on the ground, and stared unseeing at the tiny bugs and their mysterious doings.
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Posted: Fri Oct 05, 2007 8:34 pm
Gemma would have been happy to continue on her merry way and would have if it hadn't been for her golden eyes spotting the brightly colored body in the distance. It looked...listless. Not necessarily sleeping and something pulled at her. That natural tug at her heart that happened when faced with someone or something that needed help.
Not knowing if he was dangerous or not - and not really caring - the gemling picked her way through the forest until she was at his side and looked at him quietly for a long moment. He seemed to be staring at the insects that were scurrying along - but he didn't look happy. Or...anything that would be construed as a good emotion.
Made her heartstrings tighten.
"...Sir, are you all right?" she asked, kneeling down slowly and already going forward to run her muzzle along his body to check for soft spots or injuries. It was the medic in her, the unicorn. Just in case, she wanted to make sure he was just fine. Raphael always said she should have had the horn - and she had to agree. But perhaps he said it because he'd been tired of healing everything the female brought to him.
Faced with the fact of not having a horn the mare had learned other ways of healing people from listening to the two legger villages. Unlike her mother, the two leggers intrigued her. So she studied, and listened. Sometimes she was rewarded with a carrot, too, so it was a win-win situation!
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Posted: Fri Oct 05, 2007 8:50 pm
The stunned stallion was oblivious to the presence of another soquili so close to him. Her hoofbeats through the ground did not stir him. Her voice did not penetrate his stupor. He remained locked in his self-induced lethargy entirely.
That is, until the sensation of a very soft muzzle stroking down his side. He promptly came unglued. Even as his hide twitched in mute protest and horror, his body lunged suddenly away from the gentle touch, levitating to his hooves in practically one motion. With a startled and strangled squeal he wrenched himself away from the clearly female touch, one he associated with the intimate lies of the cruel daughter of the ocean.
Eyes rolling, he skittered sideways and finally took deep, gasping breaths, staring at her in a mix of fear, indignation, and a creeping anger. A niggling thought in the back of his mind told him how very wrong it was to be angry with this mare, but his sense of violation was still too raw. His fears told him this mare intended to do the same... act out the love, then deny him all over again.
Trembling from eartip to coronet, he managed to stutter out, "W-w-w-what do you want?!" His tone was mildly panicked. Clearly he was vastly over-reacting. Perhaps it was from stewing in his own dark feelings for the entire day. Perhaps it was partially due to his weakened state of body, lacking proper nutrition and hydration. And perhaps it was the daydreamer in him, reveling in truly playing the part of the one wronged. It wasn't anything he'd ever pretended before, not really.
But even as he stood, leaning so away from her, the rational part of his mind was working... slowly, but working nonetheless. It calmed his shaking body, for the most part, and made his eyes stop rolling. It steadied his breathing, and forced him to realize he probably was going to scare the mare silly with his antics. But all this happened slowly, so slowly, perhaps not even percitibly to the mare, who still stood before him.
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Posted: Fri Oct 05, 2007 9:15 pm
Gemma's eyes widened when her checking sent the stallion into a panic and she was almost knocked over by the quick movements. In fact, in her surprise she did flop straight onto her rear and she looked up at him with confused golden eyes. Well, he certainly wasn't hurt physically if he could do that, though something had scared him badly.
"I wanted to check to see if you were hurt, but clearly you are not," she said after she caught her wits and pushed herself up oh so slowly. Wince. There was a pinecone sticking in her bum now, and that hurt! Funny how she didn't notice it before. Head turned to try and look behind her, tail flicking, "...But now I am."
Oddly calm about it, though. Not even a sound of pain from the thing sticking into her flesh. She'd had worse when rescuing a rabbit as a foal and she'd run into a thicket of thorns.
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Posted: Fri Oct 05, 2007 9:26 pm
The steady, sane influence within him was winning over, so that he heard her words this time, and they registered. Him, hurt? He frowned in thought. Why would she think he was hurt? The growing sanity gave him a mental kick and the image of a full-grown stallion, curled on the forest floror, staring at nothing. An honest bit of embarassment crept into his mind, settling the temporary madness a bit more.
Thus he was able to react more normally as he realized a sharp-edged pinecone had attatched itself to the poor mare's rump. He sucked a breath of guilt, knowing he'd thorwn her onto it himself with his blind reaction. He ducked his head, managing to mumble somewhat intelligibly, "I'm sorry." He took another breath and stepped towards her. "Here, let me help." His voice was steadier this time, but he still trembled slightly. That very well could be hunger, for just as he delicately, without touching her, set his teeth around the pinecone, his stomach rumbled. In fact, it growled loud enough to give him pause.
With a mental grumble at his sorry state, he gently worked the pinecone loose. It hadn't done much damage, really, but the wound did ooze faintly. He spit the offending article away and gave her an anxious look. "I really am sorry. Does it hurt much?" Internally, he was discovering it was easier to pretend... ack, not that word again! He amended the thought swiftly. It was easier to put aside his own troubles and focus on someone else. He couldn't go accusing every mare of trying to seduce him. In fact, he refused to do such a onerous thing. After all, what would his sister say if she found out he was pointing accusations at all stranger mares? He rolled his eyes once at the scolding he'd likely get from her.
"Perhaps we could start again?" he asked hopefully. "Perhaps after we tend to your wound?"
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Posted: Fri Oct 05, 2007 9:39 pm
"It's all right," she answered as he took a step toward her and began to wiggle the cone out of her rear end, "I've been through worse, if I'm honest. A little pinecone is--ah---no big deal." Pain she'd been able to deal with from a small little foal. It was something she was used to (much to her parents displeasure, certainly).
The growl, however, caught her attention and she half smiled, "How long have you been laying there and why haven't you eaten? If your stomach is protesting that much, it has to have been a while. Perhaps we can eat after we tend my wound and start again. I know a place where some really sweet grass grows, as well as raspberries. My mother was quite fond of those berries, making my father fetch them for her."
Perhaps the offer of food would set the stallion off edge - he seemed rather uptight and Gemma's curiosity was getting the better of her. Of course she wasn't going to press anything and if he wished to spill the beans she'd be a free ear.
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Posted: Sun Oct 07, 2007 3:11 pm
At the mention of food, his stomach growled again, though less loudly this time. Thoroughly embarassed, his ears wilted. A fine first impression this was. Though not as bad as being caught in a game of pretend... and not realizing the game continued with someone else in it too. He snorted and shook his head, swishing his tail so hard that another of his roses fell out, landing in a sad, wilted lump. He glanced at it and sighed gustily.
"That," he began slowly, trying to keep his mental footing, "would be very nice. But how do we tend your wound?" He bypassed her question of why he hadn't eaten. He wasn't ready to discuss such a painful and mortifying memory with a total stranger, much less a lovely mare. The thought made him slant another look at her, realizing she was indeed lovely. Fat lot of good that does me, though, he chided himself. Bringing himself back to the current situation, he schooled his features into an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, I don't know much about what to do with injuries, small or large."
There, hopefully that would help distract from him hungry state, and the looming why. Another soundless burble from his insides reminded him also that it would be beneficial to hurry on through looking after her cut so they could move on to the necessary sustenance.
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Posted: Sun Oct 07, 2007 4:15 pm
It was as if his stomach wanted to tell Gemma, right then, that tending the wound would likely be better held to later. At least in it's not so humble opinion. It made the wind mare laugh and shake her head again despite the dull throbbing in her rump, "If we can find a stream of some kind there should be some silt and mud to pack over a leaf. I can have my mother heal it when I go visit her later this evening but the mud and silt will dry into a nice bandage and the leaf should keep most nasties out if it's cleaned in the water. I'd rather not have my rump infected. There's nothing attractive about a swollen, red rear end."
Gemma flicked her tail and started through the trees, "I think there's one not too far from here. However, I'd rather enjoy knowing my traveling companion's name rather than having to call out 'hey you' should anything go ary." she tilted her head to look back at him and flashed him another smile.
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Posted: Sun Oct 07, 2007 7:37 pm
Leon's face burned as he suddenly realized the pretty mare was blithely discussing attractive rumps. He hastily cleared his throat and made sure he was waling beside her rather than behind her as she moved off. He was a little puzzled by the application of mud and a leaf to heal an injury, but having already professed his ignorance, he didn't comment. Mud to heal something? His ears twitched in his confusion, then one pricked towards her as she casually inquired his name.
A sudden rush of memory of his day with the pretty sea-mare made a mockery of his newly gained internal balance, and he sucked a deep breath. It dawned on him in that moment of memory that he had never known her name... nor she his. It added further humiliation atop the already painful encounter. Well wasn't that a fine kettle of fish? He wrinkled his nose briefly, then vowed he wouldn't make that particular mistake anymore. Time for introductions indeed!
"I am Leon," he replied softly, but with a steadier voice than he had expected. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss....," he gave her a carefully inquiring look. Everything felt so very stilted, so forced, but at least he was being polite while also holding his still wildly floundering heart and head in check. He was bound and determined that his previous experience would NOT affect and dictate how he treated other mares. That would be giving that sea witch too much power over him. He shuddered his hide briefly, then shoved the thought aside and did his best to smile at his companion as he waited for her own name. If the smile was a little sad, and a little reserved, there still was some real warmth in it to make up for it.
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Posted: Sun Oct 07, 2007 7:49 pm
Gemma wasn't really trying to make the other one uncomfortable - and her father probably would have had her hide if he knew she was discussing the attractiveness of her rump but she REALLY didn't mean it in that way, honest! So she was really quite oblivious to the fact that Leon was embarrassed. "Leon. That's a nice name," she commented, ducking down under some low hanging branches. It wouldn't do at all to have a sore rump AND a sore forehead.
When he left the 'miss' hanging she coughed - oh, how polite SHE was, leaving her name out of things. Her mother would have chastised her something fierce for that one. "Gemma," the mare answered, "My name is Gemma." Fitting for such a little gemling, for certain. Her mother's choice, in actuality. Raphael had been named by her father.
Finally she came to a stream and nodded, golden eyes squinting to look around for the correct plant. Snake root was particularly effective in its antiseptic properties and she wouldn't be satisfied until she found some or something with similar uses. Luck would have it that her eyes found the pretty flower she was looking for. "That, there," she said, indicating to the flowers that had triangular leaves and woody stems with pretty white blossoms, "Take one of the leaves, chew it just enough to release the juices and put it over the wound. Then pack in mud around it."
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Posted: Sun Oct 07, 2007 8:07 pm
He moved around the branches, rejoining her on the other side, still doing his best not to look at the rump they had been discussing. He bobbed his head politely at her introduction. He mulled the name mentally... Gemma. It rolled about the mind and tongue rather pleasantly. Not the name of a princess, most likely... another wince at the memory of the day before.... but he'd had enough of princesses, thankyouverymuch. "A lovely name. It suits you."
Indeed it did. As they approached the water and it's reflected light, he noticed how she shimmered, her hide glimmering like light on a wind-rippled lake, seen from afar. And then there was the gold edging her like the delicate tracings of color in chunks of marble rock. A random thought that her mother must be a stunning mare as well trickled through his mind, but he focused on the here and now as she began to speak.
He moved to the plant she'd indicated, glancing uncertainly at her as she gave him instructions. Chew it? Put it on her pinecone cut? With a mental shrug, he carefully bared his teeth and closed his mouth around a leaf, sharp front teeth easily seperating the stem. His brow knitted as he moved it to the side and carefully bit down in the green stuff several times. It was almost humorous to see his expression as the juice began to flow, and he hastily moved to spit it on her rump, nudging it into place and flat with his nose.
In fact, he was so distracted by the terribly bitter taste, he didn't realize he was practically nuzzling the pretty mare's rear end. Sticking his tonuge out in brief protest at the taste, he turned towards the bank of the stteam. Now for... mud? Again uncertain, he cast her a glance. How was he going to get mud from there to her? The idea of trying a mouthful was even worse than the bitter leaf had been.
He stood, working the problem through his mind for a moment. His first attempt was to dunk his muzzle, nostrils sealed tight, into the water and drag his soft nose through the mud in an attempt to scoop some up. When he emerged from the water though, it all of course had already run down his face with the water, and he was left with a very dirty, wet muzzle. Releasing his breath with a snort that sprayed water and mud, he gave her an apologetic look. "Uh... do you have any suggestions?"
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Posted: Sun Oct 07, 2007 8:16 pm
Ah, no, most definitely not a princess. She had no haughty bone in her body that would suggest royalty. Her parents had taught her humility and taught it well. It was her mother and father who had hated being looked upon like objects of beauty rather than the Soquili they were and it had passed on to their youngest child as well - if it had with the eldest, it was lost on Gemma. Raphael she was close to and he had confidence and charisma. Something she didn't generally have - but he never seemed too prideful. Which made her proud OF him.
"Yes, it is rather bitter, isn't it?" she mused as she watched his face go from nothing to a rather humorous expression. Gemma tried her best not to laugh at the expression and somehow, by a miracle, managed to hold in her giddiness.
...Until he came up with his muzzle and nose dripping with mud and water and making him look a sorry state indeed. She laughed, melodically, and shook her head a bit before she pointed to the large leaves of a nearby plant, "Take that, gather the tips to create a sort of basket and hold the tops in your mouth. Then dip your head downward and let the water wash mud into the little pouch of the leaf and use it to pat it onto the wound." Times like this, though, Gemma was quite pleased that she had wings. Had the wound not been on her rump she would have been fine to do it herself.
Sometimes, having a two-legger around was quite helpful as well.
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Posted: Sun Oct 07, 2007 8:25 pm
He didn't mind her laughter at his mussed attempt. Not at all, in fact, which honestly surprised the stallion. He could tell she thought the situation funny, as he did... rather than him as ridiculous, as the laughter that was usually directed at him was meant. He managed a smile as she laughed, then paid close attention to what she explained he should do.
And he tried. Oh yes, he tried. He did his absolute best, but what he ended up with was mostly water, the first time. Without a huff or a sigh, he tried again. And again. Finally on the fourth try he managed some mud, though not a whole lot. Thankfully, both wound and leaf were small, so the minimal amount he dribbled on it seemed to be enough to stick the nasty-tasting leaf onto her rump. He carefully patted the mud into place and then dropped his makeshift carrying contraption.
"Whew, I didn't realize it was such work to tend a wound!" he exclaimed with unfeigned astonishment. "My parents are generally careful with themselves, and I rarely venture from home, so that sort of thing never came up, even when we were foals." He gazed admiringly at her. "That is wonderfully useful knowledge. Where did you learn such things?" He dipped his muzzle back into the stream to clean off the mess he'd made, and then drank deeply, ridding himself of the lingering aftertaste from the 'bandage'. The situation was unusual enough to seperate his thoughts from the day before, finally. If he'd known, it would have been a relief. As it was, he simply was intrigued.
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Posted: Sun Oct 07, 2007 8:35 pm
She watched with quiet amusement, polite enough not to laugh at the botched attempts any more and when he finally did catch mud the small pores in the leaf she directed at him would absorb as much water as they could, leaving the mud just thick enough to create a seal around the wound. The leaf's juices would kill any bacteria that was in the small hole. "Thank you," she granted the stallion as he finished and went to wash the mud from his nose.
"It is much work when you have no hands, nor the horn of a unicorn, Leon. But it's something that's a little less difficult when you have wings like I do. I've been tending to creatures since I was a filly - and though it wasn't long ago, I generally had to take it to my siblings or my mother to heal as I was not but a foal. When I grew up, I started hanging around the two-legger village more." a bright smile, "They are handy beings, they are, and they give me carrots. I'm still learning, but I have watched their medicine woman with interest and have picked up what she uses. Experimentation has also played a part in everything, I must admit."
Ah, giving a hint to what a bleeding heart she was. Not something she generally did. Zaris always warned her of being taken advantage of...not that she ever listened to the sexist bird.
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