[PRP] Finding the Limit (Milagro + Sitareh)

[Lady_Ourania]

It had started out as a game, chasing soft, retreating light as the sun pulled itself into a hiding spot along the edge of the forest, darkness nipping at their heels. The objective was to stay ahead of the golden decline, to capture the last few minutes of daytime on their tongues and eyes, on bark-encased knees and leafy boughs. Hallon had been beside her, their falling hooves silent on the leaf-strewn ground, the retreat marked by laughter and spontaneous snippets of song. Their voices rang louder yet as they gave colors and substances they'd never seen before names, something to summon them back again later when they were beneath their mother's tree and reminiscing. Her legs had lengthened and grown strong in the last few months, giving her speed to accompany the euphoria, youth and adventure clinging stubbornly on as she ducked between cousin oaks. From all around them came the rustling noise of creatures settling down, letting the night tuck them in peacefully; but her musical taste was different, too awake by half. The fruit that normally sat amulet-like on its string of vines rebounded off her chest, a separate beat that was strangely thrilling, her heart a drum and her striped skin its accompanying chorus. She couldn't have stopped the rhythm if she'd wanted to.

The filly continued to veer wildly after the sinking globe, leaping over undergrowth, dancing around obstacles that snagged her too-long hair and tried to slow her down. The warmth strung her along until it finally vanished, falling behind the distant shadows of the mountain range, the sky a bridge of orange and crystalline blue that marked its passage. Sitareh stopped to catch her breath, watching the spectacle segue into richer shades with quiet wonder. She'd seen sunsets before, had even enjoyed them in a similar fashion, but they were always different. Clouds and luminosity never appeared the same way twice, the sun's leaving impermanent since its demand as an artist was too great.

The air was dark and velvety around her when she finally turned in search of her brother, intent on describing such thoughts aloud. Jade eyes picked past unfamiliar trunks, queer little hollows and odd terrain, and it came to her suddenly that she'd stopped hearing his shouts a while back, that they must have taken separate paths somewhere along the line.

"Hallon?" she called, voice slightly winded still from the run, ears perked and listening for a response. Although none was forthcoming, she remained undaunted, considering the fragmented canopy above and trying to get her bearings. Sita didn't believe she'd ventured too far out from where her family made their temporary home, but she clearly saw the fringe of the woods from where she stood, a scraped section of earth peppered with grey stone where the trees ceased sprouting with such frequency. Curious at the change, the kirin-blooded Soquili approached the perimeter, peering out and setting a toed-hoof down to hear it rap against the rock. This must have been where the nearby ranges started their steady climb, the distant snow-capped peaks spread out in an arc that divided what she knew from the rest of the world. Although tufts of grass and spindly trees had taken root further out, she could feel the departure in her bones, her nostrils flaring to fill with new scents. Had her brother ever been out this far? The impulse to rush back and find him was tempered by her desire to continue looking for herself, to know what she was talking about when he inevitably asked. Sitareh stepped further out, the spill of moonlight across the area painting contours she hadn't seen before, everything sharper with more pronounced contrasts. It was stark, exciting, even as her tail dragged through the last bundle of pine needles and flicked across the cooler ground.  

[Tsunake]

Gods above, but it had been hot today. Though his fur was nowhere near as thick as his father's impressive coat, the young stallion was used to handling much colder weather. When the sun had finally dipped its head below the horizon, he'd welcomed the cool wind of the night with relief. Still, danger also carried itself to him with the coming of darkness, but Milagro saw no need to seek shelter and wait for a safer time. Predators? Hah! He laughed at the thought, and eagerly welcomed the challenge. He was young and invincible, his blood fiery in his veins, and the thought that he could be taken down and out for good never once crossed his mind.

Though he made no attempt to be particularly loud, he moved with a brazen confidence that young males often had, and he liked to imagine that the shadows cast by the moon made him look intimidating. Silver eyes swept across the open plains, but they were empty. It was a touch disappointing, but the useful part of being a vagrant was that there was no place in particular that he had to be.

The sound of a name echoing curiously across the grasslands was enough to make his ears swivel, catching the sound before it could escape and fade into silence. With his chain clanking against his neck, there was no real way for him to be subtle and sly, so his approach was more bold than it probably warranted. He didn't know what to expect--a snarling kalona, a rabid skinwalker, something big and hungry attempting to lure the foolish deeper into the night. Well, they certainly hadn't expected Milagro to show up.

The pale, wisp of a mare hadn't been what Milagro expected, either.

Though it was hard to see in the dim, she had horns like a demon and a tail like a unicorn. The stallion's ears tilted forward almost aggressively, and his pace slowed to a confident, casual strut. "Little bit late to be walking around," He drawled, blatantly ignoring his own hypocrisy.  

[Lady_Ourania]

Everything was brighter out in the open, the stars strewn overhead pinning the sky in place, their gleam managing to fill the yawning barrenness with something verging on friendly. The temperature had also dropped slightly, a breath drawn from her belly fogging the air as she tilted her chin back and absorbed the change. But it was a bearable difference, and she continued her investigations without a thought, hooves clacking strangely on the harsh surface. Behind her, the forest stretched out in an infinite wall of lustrous blackness, a breeze shushing through the leaves beckoning her back. She ignored it temporarily, keen on the smell the wind was bringing to her nostrils. It wasn't a scent she knew, but there was a sense of oldness to it, as though whatever had transpired to create it had long since come and gone. Her ears tipped back, and she closed her eyes to better take in the atmosphere, letting it wash over her in increments. If she didn't push her luck, maybe something would reach out and help her understand.

A jangling disruption had her blinking back to her immediate surroundings, body curving involuntarily toward the noise. It was not the music the trees made when they batted at one another with their limbs, blaring less fragile and playful than when her scaled sides raked her brother's. Neither was it an answer she could comprehend, if it was one at all. And though it wasn't in Sitareh's nature to wait and be found, she realized that the steady rhythm was drawing nearer, seemingly intent on her location, or at least drifting close enough for her to spy its source. If she moved, slipped sideways into the familiarity of the woods to track it from there, she feared she would miss the reveal. So the filly stood motionless on the hard ground, striped features attentive through the messy veil of her forelock.

Seconds ticked by, just her and the sound beneath the vault of the night; then one of the shadows parted company from the rest, slowly stabilizing in her sights until colors bled into the darkness. It looked like a section of the mountain had broken away and rolled down to meet her, cold white patches draped over earthy cinnamon shades, still capable of looming even at a distance. But it was just a stallion making his way elsewhere, densely furred and pale eyed, suddenly in less of a hurry to go when he spied her. Her head canted to the side when he spoke, registering just above the racket that emanated somewhere south of his mouth, his tone smooth and relaxed to her ears.

"It kind of is, huh?" Sita chirped agreeably, taking the slowed gait as an invitation and crossing toward him. The inky planes that claimed his feet and muzzle soon resolved into a solid state, indistinct shapes becoming horns that sprouted from his skull like sticks of charcoal, devouring any light that dared trace them. But she was more interested in the something at his throat, an adornment the likes of which she'd never seen before, linked together and ending in a heavy bar. "I wasn't walking, though. I was running," she pointed out, head angling to examine the chain with fascination. Metal was not a material she often came across, the extent of her knowledge being that it was man-made, and also that her father had a peculiar aversion to it. Still, she stopped just short of bumping it with her nose to check its composition, recalling her mother's lessons in decorum long enough to straighten back up again to look its wearer in the eye. "I'm Sitareh, by the way. Is your necklace very heavy?"  

[Tsunake]

His ears pinned themselves back almost immediately at the bright and bubbling quality of her tone, painfully reminded of his own sisters--or at least one of them. His mother and other sister had been absent for most of his life, and as such, Milagro felt little attachment to the pair of them. Besides, one sister had been enough. He'd come to associate fillies and mares in much of the same manner; loud, too curious, and irritating. Of course, his sister wasn't someone he'd cross, weakness or not, and a grudging sigh eventually grumbled around in his throat.

"Could have tripped and killed yourself," He pointed out reluctantly, as though blaming her for not sparing him from this meeting. The moonlight didn't give away as much as he wanted it to, but he could make out the long and tangled mane framing her youthful face--and even more eerily, the pale, glowing lights that adorned the vines that seemed to be wrapped around her body. He'd never seen plants like that before, much less heard of them, and if he squinted, he could make out scales covering her entire body, protecting her from harm while stiff and spiky hairs outlined her spine.

Suddenly her face was inches away from his neck, and the stallion jerked back with a low, grating snarl bubbling up in his throat. If she thought to take him by surprise, she was sorely mistaken, but before he could hammer the side of her head with his strong, blunt teeth, she was warbling again about something stupid. His necklace?

"It's a chain," He snapped, bristling at the thought of her accusing him of adorning something so girly around his neck. From his father, in fact, but he didn't feel the need to share that information with her. "Sitareh? What's that supposed to mean?" Looks like he'd unknowingly stumbled into the weirder neck of the woods...  

[Lady_Ourania]

Taking his muttering to mean he was concerned for her wellbeing, Sitareh's face crinkled with a smile, bright and uncomplicated. She shook her head enough to stir her tousled mane away from her face to better see him, the motion carrying all the way down to her furred spine. "I'm good at running," she assured the stallion, the mild ache in her legs a testimony to her practice. "Sometimes my feet don't really touch the ground, so it's hard to trip on stuff, even the stuff I'm not used to." The kirin glanced around them at those last few words, taking in the flatness, the blank canvas quality of the world outside her homeland. Maybe things were different out here, the topography more competitive, less forgiving of mutual faults. It was a completely new line of thought for the young mare, and she found that she didn't particularly care for it, tail winding around her back leg to stabilize her position while firmly resettling her mind on other, more important facts. Like the one where there was a largely unknown male in front of her, bedecked in strangeness and smelling of other regions. Did he really hail from the mountains? The coolness laced up in his thick-set shoulders made her wonder, his cloven hooves distinctly longer and sharper than her own back pair. It also partially explained the fashioned ore around his neck, a foreign thing from an unknown place for which she lacked a basic understanding.

While she was still trying to determine the quality of the object around his neck, a sudden growl echoed in her nearby ear, making it swivel down and away to protect itself from the sound. It was a note that clawed and fanged creatures hit, throaty with warning and strange from a grass-eater's lips. For her part, Sitareh could only stare at him with wide-eyed incomprehension, not entirely sure what had prompted such a reaction. He backed away slightly, and she remained watchfully in place, the flattened ear forgetting its dismay to perk when he provided an answer. "Chain?" she repeated, brows furrowing as she filed that information away. He hadn't addressed her other question, but he had posed one of his own, and she paused to consider it before answering. "It's just a name to call me by. You know, like how your necklace's name is Chain." Surely he had a name – everything did, in one way or another, whether it had been given or taken on – but he appeared to be in no hurry to tell it.

Regardless, he seemed sort of prickly, like she had irritated him somehow. Puzzled, she shifted in place to relieve the tension in her knees, eyes downcast and mulling. Remembering his earlier interest in her own necklace, she ducked her head to tenderly seize a strand with her teeth. Her movements were precise to avoid damaging the vegetable flesh as she brought it up for his inspection. Its exterior was silken, tickling her gums as she breathed over it. Every inhale brought the familiar tang of dew-fed flavor. In the faint green-tinted light its buds cast, she could see that his pale iris swam in a pool of obsidian, resembling nothing so much as some miniature cutout of the moon on a solitary night.

"They glow brighter on my mother," she informed him as an afterthought, the eternally ripe fruit that dangled from the vine swaying gently in the air between them. Why Laurelin had bestowed it upon her, the filly wasn't precisely sure. Her mother was an enigma at times, more settled in her birthright than either of her children could claim. But the gift felt like a safety net in many ways, something that wrapped her up in all the warmth and affection she so often found in her family's nearness. It was a treasure, a reminder of her heritage, and she cherished it accordingly.  

[Tsunake]

Yeah, her and every other Soquili on the planet were good at running. A disbelieving snort was issued at that, but Milagro soon realized, with an uncomfortable twinge, that she was completely serious. "Er. Yeah. They aren't supposed to if you're actually, you know, running." He muttered, his ears pinned flat against his skull even as he shot a look over his shoulder, half-hoping a Skinwalker would rise up and rip his throat out. Any day now... aaaany day now. No luck. A blustery sigh forced its way out of his throat, and Milagro wearily shifted his weight, as the silence stretched between them. Had she simply forgotten what she was going to say next? Hell, maybe she didn't even remember where she was now. That'd be just his luck. He was already weaving up some terrible tale to spin her and send her galloping on her way when she chirped at him like a brain-dead filly.

"Yeah. Chain." He answered grudgingly, his mouth falling open in disbelief at her next statement. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, it's not a necklace. It's a chain. It doesn't have a goddamn name." If that wasn't the most emasculating thing he'd heard in a while, he didn't know what was. Girls wore jewelry. Except his sister. She was in a league of her own, though, and to be fair, Agro still had trouble classifying her in his mind.

As she suddenly seized whatever was gleaming around her neck, he gave her a suspicious, sideways look. What was she doing now? His eyes continued to dart over the vine and her face, clearly missing some sort of vital piece of communication. "Why the hell do they glow at all?" He wanted to know, curious despite the bluntness of his words. He'd never seen plants that gleamed like that before in his entire life. Maybe it was a forest thing.

"Your whole family glow like that or something? Do you have to stay near the woods?" That was an adventure he could get behind. Maybe there'd be some sort of fair maiden to rescue. A glance at Sitareh made him correct himself. A fair, sensible maiden.  

[Lady_Ourania]

They weren't? How peculiar, especially considering the fleet-footedness of her entire clan, small a sample though they may have been. Still, she dismissed the thought before registering his uneasiness at its possibility, instead noticing his hopeful glance when he directed it just behind him. Sitareh leaned to look expectantly where his attention had fallen, seeing more of the same flat, trampled-down earth punctuated with the barest slips of greenery. Her head angled back towards him, a question in the tilt of her mouth and communicated plainly in her stare, though she was surprised when he missed it to let the silence deepen. She was used to doing a great deal of talking with her eyes, but his seemed guarded in their examination, flat and fierce as they gazed back at her. And maybe her language was not his language, her skills as an interpreter flung uselessly against an insurmountable barrier. There was nothing of the forest's infinite tranquility in him - his reaction to their misunderstanding was proof enough of that. A trace of dubiousness finally graced her features at his insistence, still not completely certain why he was so determined not to call a thing what it was at its core. Why wouldn't it have a name? Yet he was firm on the subject, and she let it drop, hardly eager to continue picking at the same thread of conversation when it caused his voice to tint with something approaching anger.

At least her offering snared his focus easily, and she felt a burst of pleasure at his question, even with its harsh phrasing. Interest was interest, no matter its delivery. "Because they do." Then, sensing that perhaps that was not sufficient, she added, "Because they help with a lot of things, and they want to be found." There, that answer was much more comprehensive, and she let the precious tendril drop back down, the slight pressure it exerted on her neck a comfort. Mention of her family soothed her posture, even as she half-suspected that Chimalsi would soon be along to fetch her away. "Not my dad or my brother, just me and my mom. Mostly mom." Hallon had his own tree, of course, but it didn't bear fruit, at least not yet. The second part of his question made her hesitate, the ever-present grin slipping into something more thoughtful. "I don't know. I haven't been away. Not until just now, I mean." And even that was only a few short steps, not nearly enough distance to judge by. She was partially aware of the fact that her parents had not always dwelt in the wooded area they did now, stories recounting their much-glossed over courtship having lulled her to sleep when she was younger still. It was part of the reason she sometimes dreamed of the ocean, despite never having seen it. But she hadn't ever thought to ask her mother about the emerald cast she carried with her, whether its brightness was eclipsed without the trees to control the level of darkness exerted on them. And even if her mother did have an answer, the same might not have applied to her and her secondhand treasure. There was really only one way to know that for sure.

"Do you want to find out?" she invited after a few sparse seconds of internal debate, stepping forward and then aside, unraveling her tail from her leg to accommodate the motion. The stretch of ground was coarse, but she could take it at a steady pace without complaint, and the idea of racing under starlight was enticing. It was similar to the game she'd played earlier, the one that had separated her from her brother in the first place, even if the aim was slightly different. In trying to beat out the sun, they'd known that they stood no chance; but this was an unexplored contest, with an unspoken set of rules. If he agreed to participate, then they could work the rest out along the way.  

[Tsunake]

Because they just did. Well, wasn't that peachy? His bad temper soured even more, and a spiteful and jabbing retort laced the tip of his tongue when the mare quickly amended her statement, adding information as though to soothe his ire. Of course, it was useless information, the sort of stuff that made him shake his head with an explosive snort of disdain. He didn't believe a word of it, though clearly he'd simply decided that she was perpetually stuck in the clouds, her mind fluttering about at random with no real direction.

Only the women in her family? A brow arched just slightly, but he had no comment to offer for it, and simply chose to accept it as it was. It at least made more sense than the dribble about names wanting to be found. Her offer took him by surprise, and he watched her warily, muscles tense and twitching with anticipation. "No." Follow her into the woods at night, where her whole, crazy family might be waiting to toss him in a cook-pot? No. Not tonight.

"Listen, are you always this friendly with strangers? You aren't worried I could take you out?" Because he could, of course, and he swelled slightly at the thought. She was a mere wisp of a mare--he could spin around and kick her down before she even knew what was happening! Not that he would, of course--not to a mare. Unless she was evil. He was getting a far away look in his eye, and he ruefully pulled himself back to the present. "You're odd. I haven't met anyone like you before--and you're just weird."  

[Lady_Ourania]

A small frown flitted across Sitareh's mouth when he refused her, unable to hide her disappointment. He had asked, but he didn't really want to know? Her own curiosity was harder to abandon, bobbing just above the level of confusion his apparent discomfort stirred up in her. Perhaps she had misspoken, though she was hard-pressed to discover where. It seemed much of what she said was being turned on its head tonight, unpacked in ways that were unintentionally offensive to the stallion. Or maybe it was simply an imposition on his time that he couldn't afford. It would have been a more compelling argument if he hadn't continued to stare her down.

"You're sure?" she asked, even as her lifted hoof settled again. Her gaze lingered wistfully upon the open plain before returning to him, prepared for a second rejection. If he didn't want to accompany her, she supposed she could wait a little longer, just until they said goodbye and parted ways. He still hadn't granted her anything to call him by, but she was accustomed to the mystic, the cryptic, and took it in stride. Given enough time, he might tell her, or let it slip to be collected like some rare gem. Sitareh could be patient.

At his next words, however, her brow furrowed. She mouthed the words to herself - take you out. Sitareh allowed herself to mull for a long second, peering unabashedly into his face. He was taller than her by a fair margin, built thicker and more resilient as a consequence of his environment. There was no doubt that he counted as a stranger in her limited worldview. It didn't help that she was removed from her element, and outside of her family's long reach. Still, did that automatically mean something sinister would happen? All of her experiences as a filly making friends in the forest said no. There had been the occasional mean-spirited colt, and the beasts that wandered through were not always friendly; but the grand majority of them had been good, if a bit lost or lonely. No one had ever hurt her without a reason, and she didn't think that she had given him one.

Opening her mouth to answer, she was quickly shut down by his accusation, green eyes widening. The stab of hurt took her by surprise, feeling it establish a home base inside her breast. Name-calling was nothing new, but it had been a while. Sitareh dropped her muzzle, letting her forelock cascade past her horns and across her cheek. When she finally responded, her tone had altered slightly, lower and a little hesitant. "What's wrong with that?"