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 Posted: Sat Jan 12, 2008 9:31 am
 The trouble with storms is that you always seem to get caught out in them when you have no way of getting back. Cadance stared glumly at the river where the usual crossing point was now a little too deep to cross. It didn't help that the cold of the water was bone-chillingly numb or he would have swam across gamely. Looking around he spotted the Willow Tree that had been one of his many haunts as a colt and shrugged. It was as good as anything right now. Hair plastered to his face, the burgundy stallion made his way under the some what shelter of the low falling branches. Some of the rain still made it's way through but the thick leaves above his head helped keep some warmth inside. It wasn't the rain he usually did not like but that wet feeling of everything clinging to you after. He shook himself a bit to try and get the most of the wet off.
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Posted: Wed Jan 16, 2008 2:51 pm
The big tree blocked the hard chill of the wind and the heaviest of the rain, but it was still cold and damp inside the protection of its branches, water running down its leaves in droves, making it very easy to imagine how the tree got the name 'weeping willow.' But eventually the air heated up a bit from his presence. Perhaps just as the most soppiest of parts on Cadance started to reach a pleasant 'damp' stage, a gust of wind picked up. The leaves in the tree rusteled gently for a moment, then a violent crash in the branches above sent a cascade of water pouring back down.
Tangled high in the braches of the tree was a wet, crumbled bit of purple and puff, a young Soquili mare, clinging to the brances for dear life.
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Posted: Fri Jan 18, 2008 11:23 pm
Cadance was not too pleased with the new torrent of water that managed to drench him once more. However, it wasn’t every day a large bird crashes into a tree, especially during a storm. He peered up at the branches, vision obscured by the large drops of water that had a habit of landing on his nose. Partially worried that there was a creature stuck up there, otherwise worried that it would land on his head. “Hello? Are you ok up there?” The burgundy stallion called out to the branches above, not sure if the creature could hear him, much less understand him. Trying again, a little louder just in case, “Hello! Are – You – O – K? Are – You – Hurt? Can – You – Come – Down?” Gazing up he paced in a circle, snorting every now and again as the large drops kept falling upon his nose.
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Posted: Sat Jan 19, 2008 8:06 am
Nymph was trying to collect her thoughts when she heard a voice from down below. She was so scared about falling out from her branches, as she no idea how high up she was, that she almost didn't answer. She would just... wait for the storm to pass, her wings to dry out...and she's be on her way. Right?
A few moments passed and a chill ran over her form, causing her to shiver and the branch to shake along with her. "H...hello?" she chattered out, slowly trying to strain her neck to look below her. "Someone there..?"
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Posted: Sun Jan 20, 2008 10:33 pm
No answer... was he imagining things? The stallion let his head drop and felt the water drip down his back and neck. He looked a right mess at the moment, his normal curly hair plastered to his neck in straight rivulets. He watched the water drip off his nose before he heard the fain voice call out above him... Someone there? Quickly, picking his head back up, the striped stallion looked up once more. "I am here! Do you need help? Are you stuck?" He wasn't quite sure what was up there but it didn't sound like a big scary monster so he was more worried that it'd be a smaller creature that was trying to brave the storm that raged in the cloudy sky.
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Posted: Wed Jan 23, 2008 2:18 pm
Nymph tried to flap her paper thin wings, but alas, they were useless so wet, nothing but limp purple leaves hangling deadly from her back. It didn't help that, for a flutter at least, Nymph was fairly massive. She was the size of a fluttercorn, but lacked the horn that her mother had. She was still rather slight compared to a normal Soquili, and generally she could fly just fine... but maybe just lacking the grace of her father.
Of course.... Grace was the last thing she had right now. "I... I think so," she called down to the voice, flailing her back hooves in a futile attempt to find good footing. "Oh my..."
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Posted: Sat Feb 02, 2008 4:10 pm
Cadance stared up and wondered how he was going to get her down. So far he had managed to figure out she was a girl, she had wings and she was not a bird. "Well... um... What is your name anyway? Oh! what if I shook the tree, do you think you could safely get down? I can't get up there you see." He hoped that she might get dislodged from the branches she was tangled in and then be able to fly down. Looking around he scraped together a small pile of leaves and grasses. They were all very wet but he was sure that if she did fall, a wet pile of leaves would be much better than the hard ground.
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Posted: Sat Jun 28, 2008 9:14 am
"Nymph," said the vouce after a moment's hesitation. "My name is Nymph." She looked around her surrounding and tried to evauluate his suggestion. "Shake the tree you say?" She shook out her wet mane and tried to gain footing...to no avail. Her hooves slid off the wet bark with no friction. "Do you think it will work? I'm afraid I will fall...."
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The trouble with storms is that you always seem to get caught out in them when you have no way of getting back. Cadance stared glumly at the river where the usual crossing point was now a little too deep to cross. It didn't help that the cold of the water was bone-chillingly numb or he would have swam across gamely. Looking around he spotted the Willow Tree that had been one of his many haunts as a colt and shrugged. It was as good as anything right now. Hair plastered to his face, the burgundy stallion made his way under the some what shelter of the low falling branches. Some of the rain still made it's way through but the thick leaves above his head helped keep some warmth inside. It wasn't the rain he usually did not like but that wet feeling of everything clinging to you after. He shook himself a bit to try and get the most of the wet off. 
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