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 Posted: Wed Aug 07, 2013 4:19 pm
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Posted: Wed Aug 07, 2013 4:29 pm
There were days when Sylph recalled his fateful encounter with his mate; he'd been the most uncouth, inconsiderate and rude creature in existence. In fact, he'd been so incredibly ill mannered that he had actually hit her and given her a potential concussion. Granted he'd soon remembered his manners, or at least his sense of honour, and had promptly taken her to a healer before 'escorting' her off the premises...but Farsiris had chastised him for his behaviour and rightfully so. Admittedly at the time the large stallion hadn't felt particularly guilty, in fact it would have been safe to say he had felt entitled, but that was then and well...things had changed.
He hadn't been looking for a mate, he hadn't even been humouring the idea due to the nature of Tut's arrival, but ironically it had been because of Tut that things had spiralled to the point they were now. A dramatic pursuit of Tut's attacker had led him to Azshara, and had he not intervened against the very same beast that had attacked his son, the Harpy would no longer be here today. He had been surprised to say the least, that the harpy was not with her Flock, but as he had taken her with him to safety he had eventually discovered that she hadn't gone to them.
...In fact, he'd soon discovered that she didn't want to, and that she didn't fit in.
Unsurprisingly he had done exactly what he seemed genetically programmed to do, and just like his mother and father he had invited Azshara to make her home with him. She had settled in well, and suspicious as he was he had watched her, only to find that eventually her eccentricities had grown on him. Well, what happened after that was entirely unavoidable and he could only assume that this was how his mother had successfully ensnared his father - Sylph had become somewhat obsessed by his bird...
The years had passed by quickly after that and the Summit had been in a state of peace. With so few threats everyone had had the opportunity to pursue their own hobbies and relationships, to hold deep rooted and important discussions about the future. Sylph was no exception to this, and in a fateful discussion with his father, the former patriarch had quietly reminded him that he was the only protector who lacked an alpha to represent the line. While Azumoth did not immediately indicate that Azshara should take the position, he had said that Sylph should consider cementing his status as protector in some form.
Thus the stallion now found himself all too aware of the necessity to have this conversation with his mate. He wasn't cowardly or afraid of how she might receive it, but for someone so carefree he wasn't entirely certain as to whether she would want it, and then where would that leave him? He would need an alpha in some respect, even if it was out of mutual respect, but he would much prefer it was well... her. After all, a pacifist could temper his warmongering capabilities and ensure he didn't go too overboard. He was fairly sure that this was what Elizabeth spent most of her time doing with Ambroise, surely it would be appropriate and fitting if Azshara did the same!
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Posted: Sat Nov 09, 2013 7:35 am
The harpy had indeed taken well to life on the summit. While it had not been the most auspicious of meetings, and was one of the few moments in her life Azshara truly wished to do over, it served its purpose well. The pair had crossed paths, and neither would so quickly forget the other. Had someone told Azshara that the warrior whom had left her half-concussed would one day be her future mate, she would have laughed and called them a fool. Ah, but the spirits are tricky and fickle things, and with time, and circumstance, a near-death experience shortly after her leaving the Flock officially had brought her once more under Sylph's regard. And with time, and a very peculiar sort of courtship, the two found themselves quite smitten.
Though she missed her sisters, from time to time, Azshara enjoyed the freedoms found in the Kawani way of life. No extreme ranks, no second class herd members, no judgement if one refused to fight or raise claw, and an ability and encouragement to find love for the sake of love. No need for children to be judged on gender, or purity, or be taught two different upbringings. No, she had the world at her claws, and while Sylph might be the sort to go out and defend and protect the herd with other warriors, she could preach pacifism and peace to her non-violent hearts content.
Never would she be encouraged to leave, or blatantly run out. Finally, for once in her life, Azshara felt as if she belonged. She did not always agree with some of the herd's tactics, but, though it was a hard pill to swallow, after the skinwalker attack, she understood that there were some situations where peace could not, and would never be found. A skinwalker didn't care to set keep their claws sheathed. Demons could not be reasoned with.
That was why Sylph did the heavy hitting, and Azshara clung to diplomacy. It worked out well, despite her eccentricities. . . behavior, that even after all these years, she could not quite get over or truly forget. She was an odd bird, so to speak, literally and figuratively; she did not always think the way a 'normal' Kawani soquili might -- from cooing over the beauty of delicate hooved mares, to climbing trees, and cooing and chirruping and singing in a most avian like manner -- she stood out rather significantly. She truly did seem to be more bird than horse, but . . .details. That she was now accepted within the lands, and even loved by a few, was something Azshara truly did cherish.
Her upbringing had its great flaws, and she truly had never fit in to the Flock, but . . . They had ingrained in her a love and want of family, of connection, of care. Sylph and his family, as well as the over all herd in which she now lived, was essentially this little bird's world. She was able to coo and fuss over them all -- she disregarded some of the males grumpy days, and certainly hit it off with some of the mares -- and this was her nest and most beloved home.
So it was, the delicate mare had taken to foraging this afternoon. Her usual golden jewelry had been replaced by a few makeshift sacks and bags as the mare sought out the mountain plants and fruits and nuts that would feed them well come winter. Some of the fruits, she knew, could be dried and saved for later; while others would simply go well to pick upon the rest of the week. So it was, the mare had taken to a thicker orchard, lost high up in the branches. Her petite frame and delicate bones made easy work of slipping high above the rest of the world; for being one without wings, she was often looking down at the world, and admiring its splendour from high above.
Unfortunately for Sylph, his lovely ladies trail had stopped cold at a tree long before the orchard. With how close they grew together, she had no need to climb down, and could simply hop from branch to branch, limb from limb, and move freely. Thankfully, Azshara was relaxed, and was not necessarily known for her quiet or reserve. As she worked, she occasionally warbled a song, or cooed with the pigeons and doves and cackled with the curious ravens and magpies that could treat themselves to the too rotten or bruised fruit which she might discard.
It would not be difficult for Sylph to find her, if only he might listen.
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Posted: Sat May 16, 2015 11:39 am
This was where familiarity with his mate came in handy, where an awareness of her eccentricities became useful. Enjoyable and amusing as he might have found her bird-like tendencies in general, they set her apart and made her so unique that with enough practice he had gotten fairly good at hunting her down. Granted he still hadn't mastered the art and for the next hour he had wandered about, picking up her trail and discerning various possible 'routes' she might have taken.
It was only after trial and error (he was on his fifth attempt), that he finally pointed himself in the right direction. He had rightly assumed that her trail had disappeared because she had taken to the trees, this was normal for her and fairly standard procedures. However, given the multitude of directions she could have gone in and the density of the forest, he hadn't necessarily selected the right part of the forest to head in. Consequently he had bumped in to a number of familiar faces, including Moppet, who had kept him for nearly forty five minutes, and then at last found the correct route.
Even he would admit that this was not the most efficient ways of tracking something, but the only way to get more efficient would be to learn to climb and he didn't have the necessary limbs for that!
Nevertheless, within ten minutes of selecting his path he knew it was the right one. Here and there he could see discarded fruits, some littered the ground and others had been partially caught in the branches over his head. It was enough for him to discern that something, or rather someone was scavenging for snacks. A little more walking and he could hear the usual birdsong... but also the gleeful little cackles. Make no mistakes, the mare was certainly up to something even if he couldn't see it... He'd be the first to admit that he was rather curious as to what she got up to up there some times.
He remained silent for a time until he was reasonably sure she was either overhead or close enough to hear him above the chatter in the trees (which he assumed was louder than at ground level). It was then that he drew to a halt and tilted his head upwards, amber eyes flicking surveying the canopy for telltale signs of life.
"Azshara?" he enquired. "What are you doing to the poor birds?" he mused, obviously referring to her cackles.
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