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 Posted: Mon Oct 05, 2009 4:08 pm
He'd lost her. Lost her. A fully grown, physically matured, almost ridiculously tall Angeni mare, and he'd lost her.
Wings fanned to their full length at his sides, he spiraled over the land, muttering to himself as his sharp eyes scanned the grasses. Truth be told, she shouldn't be difficult to find. Aside from the fact that she was several times his own size, Celandine was blind, and so was rather obvious about her travel despite her best intentions. If only he hadn't fallen asleep -
That had likely been her plan, however. Eyes narrowing, he stretched his legs, catching a low-hanging branch and balancing on it for a moment. Despite her handicap, Celandine was independent to a fault, and she got restless when she had to indulge his company and, though he was loathe to admit it, fussing, for too long.
"Overgrown foal," He muttered, flapping his wings in irritation. Surely she knew how dangerous it was! She was Angeni, to be sure, but she was still a blind mare!
Diving from the branch, catching sight of a stallion below, Vrabel soared above him, but didn't see Celandine. Irritated, and plenty worried, he bit off an oath, using the wind to coast as he continued his search.
"At this rate, she's going to be fodder for some crazed skinwalker!" He didn't realize he was speaking aloud, nor that anyone below might have heard him. Vrabel's thoughts were all for Celandine, and the lecture he was going to give her when he saw her next.
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Posted: Mon Oct 05, 2009 5:07 pm
Promethius was there, in the dense forest of the mountainside, when above he had heard the flapping of the bird's large wings. The rustling of a branch made the large stallion finally look up to the bird, who seemed not to be talking to him, but to himself. He couldn't help but to overhear the worried bird's words. "At this rate, she's going to be fodder for some crazed skinwalker!"Now the bird had his full attention. Once he had been accused of being one. That had been when his wounds were fresh, and not as well healed as they were now. Though disfigured as he still was, he sure couldn't be mistaken for one anymore. Or so he assumed. Promethius had never had the displeasure of meeting a Skinwalker. Standing from where he previously lay, Promethius' large hoof beats soon could be heard following after Vrabel, and his soft, hoarse whisper of a voice called out loud as his tender voice box could manage -- "Bird! Who is it that you seek? Who is lost? I will help you find them..." Why? Promethius asked himself for a moment? The answer was clear to him - because he wanted to prove that he was a kind beast, and that would never happen unless he tried. A pessimistic voice in the back of his head quipped, 'What's the use in trying?' He beat back that voice, focusing his golden eyes on the bird above.
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Posted: Mon Oct 05, 2009 7:25 pm
Unaware at first that the stallion was speaking to him, Vrabel ignored his queries, still intently searching the land for his charge. He was fast approaching a dense collection of trees - the headstrong girl, she'd certainly planned this! - and his vantage point would be rendered useless.
Through his frustration, the stallion's words attained actual meaning, and he stopped, flapping his wings rapidly as he turned to face him.
An interesting sort. Not the kind he'd want around Celandine by the looks of him, but then, knowing her, that meant he was exactly the kind she'd seek out. He could have no way of knowing who he sought, however, so for now, Vrabel would consider his offer for aide sincere.
"Her name is Celandine." Sounding curt despite himself, Vrabel craned his neck, muttering an unintelligible phrase under his breath. When he spoke again, he snapped his gaze back to the stallion. "She departed some time ago, and she is alone... and unable to defend herself. Her colors are like mine, muted. You search on the ground, then, and I'll take the skies!"
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Posted: Sat Oct 10, 2009 7:08 pm
Promethius nodded, and with no further word, ran. His pale eyes scanned the area as his heavy hooves moved swiftly. He tried to catch a 'living' scent, and was about to try another direction when he caught the faintest of smells. It was, as he would describe it, warm, and full of life. Not like the smell of the foliage that grew all around, but that of another animal. It had an undertone much like his own. This was the scent of another soquili.
A wind blew and he quickly tried to determine the direction the scent had taken, and how the wind might have carried it. 'Shove' it, if you will.
Promethius' mind worked in a strange way. The way he often explained things could be rather unorthodox, but he was intelligent.
He took off again once he had determined what direction to go. Every so often he began to call out;
"Celandine?!"
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