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 Posted: Thu Sep 27, 2012 7:02 am
This is a private rp between Aderyn yr Eira Duliisdi and Isilmé Taurë.
 
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Posted: Thu Sep 27, 2012 7:03 am
The woods are a wonderful place, a great place for a scene in a story, for it seems that something interesting always happened in the woods, be it the nesting grounds of some creature of horror, a dream, a fantasy, a dream within a dream, or of course a forbidden romance. Perhaps it was because the trees radiate an ancient sensation that leads the traveler to believe he or she has entered into a strange unexplored new world where magick was not a myth, but a reality.
Aderyn yr Eira Duliisdi stared in wonder at the landscape before her, she could imagine the story the scene would inspire in those versed in the art of storytelling, those like her father, although his tale would hint on the darker, more horrible aspects of what could occur. The young filly closed her pale silver eyes, the same color as her mother’s, and envisioned wood sprites and faeries dancing within the greenery; when she opened her eyes, they could almost be real, the faeries of legend. A rational part of her brain thought that perhaps the myth of the tiny creatures derived from flutters, who could shrink in size and become pixie like to those who do not know of the species ability. Aderyn shook her head, causing her multicolor mane to swish back and forth; she wanted magic, not some scientific technical answer to the myths she loved. Yellow eyes stared at her through the dark underbrush and she suddenly thought of the story her father loved to tell when the moon was full and the night was filled with an eerie air. The cat was a a-da-nv-do di-tli-hi or a Spirit Warrior who was sent down to earth by an evil spirit who was impersonating the Powerful Moon Spirit Geyaguga to swallow the S-gi-na or Bad Spirit who had been cursed to watched over a darkness that sucked the land free of life. Without the bad spirit watching over the curse, it spread across the land, causing havoc in its wake. Aderyn shivered as she usually did when thinking about the tale, it always surprised her that the one she thought was bad was good and the ones that were supposed to be good were bad.
Thinking of beings with citrine eyes, her thoughts went to her horror story loving father of the Asgina Kanehelvsgi. “Daddy would love it here,” her accent was strange for it was a combination of Scottish and Cherokee, an equal mix of both her parent’s cultures and ancestry. Saying those words out loud, the young filly remembered why she was in that enchanted bower in the first place; she was lost and not at all worried about her predicament. She smiled, “Can’t have an adventure without getting lost in the process. It’s all part of the fun.”
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