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Tags: soquili, horses, breedable pets, pet horses, familiars 

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[PRP] To Each a Season (Al-Hattal + Chione)

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Lady_Ourania

PostPosted: Thu Nov 05, 2015 9:39 pm


User ImageThe day dawned bright and cold, everything blanketed in a mounting layer of white powder. Chione had woken to find the pines she'd taken shelter under covered in a sheet of ice, their boughs pulled protectively inward. Standing up and bumping her head on its lowermost limbs had prompted a musical twinkling, icicles jangling against one another while she listened. Green needles still clinging to her coat, the mare strolled through the winter world with her face directed upwards, thick, heavy flakes of snow caught on her tongue and blinked from her eyelashes. She'd sensed the temperature drop sometime during the night, though the tree's well had insulated her from the worst of it. Before her, the ground was pure and level, devoid of footprints yet so early in the morning. Sounds were muffled to her ears, even as they swiveled inquisitively from side to side.

After ensuring that no one appeared to be within range, she took advantage of her talon-clad feet, hopping bird-like through the new drifts. Doubling back over the tracks made them look all the more strange, vaguely leaf-shaped and stacked atop each other. Her down-covered legs were quickly matted with snow, but Chione barely noticed the clinging stuff. Instead, she buried her nose into a bank, flipping it up to let the wind have it again and grinning at the resultant patterns. Winter had always been a favorite time of year for her, a reminder of happier times. Few of her peers had bothered to pursue her through the snow, too soft and well-bred by far. And so she'd been left largely to her own devices. With no one to comment on her childishness, Chione had indulged in the kinds of play from which she'd so often been excluded. Every year, she expected her giddiness at the sight of snow to wane, to become just another aspect that she'd left anchored to her past self. And every year she felt a resurgence of the filly that she'd been, delighted to have a world wiped clean of even the most minor-seeming cruelties.

Breath puffing out of her in pale clouds, Chione eventually collapsed into the snow, rolling onto her back with her feet crooked towards the sky. She snagged snowflakes on her talons like a bird might catch its prey, reeling them in for a closer examination only to have them quickly melt away. The mare completed the rotation when she felt wet points working their way past her coat, pulling her legs up under her and flicking her tail in a half-hearted effort to sort the tangles. Humming in an absent-minded way, Chione arched her dappled neck and curled her toes, working out the last of the kinks acquired from sleeping in a cramped position overnight. Definitely not the worst way to wake up, she wagered, closing her eyes and letting snowflakes settle on her lids. They dropped like soft, cold kisses on the thin skin there, and she sighed contentedly into the sensation.
PostPosted: Fri Nov 06, 2015 5:45 pm


User Image Augh. Snow. Not just a light dusting of the stuff, but real, serious snow. It had been inevitable. The leaves had fallen from the trees, the temperature had been steadily dropping, and now winter had officially arrived. Desert-bred and born, Al-Hattal had hated the cold, wet, awful stuff from the very first time he'd encountered it. He was no stranger to cold, but the clinging wetness of snow was different from simple chilly air, and the ice! Ugh. Ugh, ugh, ugh.

But of course, here he was anyway, picking his was through the powder only for it to stick to his fetlocks and form into clumps. Yuck. He'd meant to be well away from this area by the onset of winter, had intended to meander his way down to the jungle, perhaps, but he was never good at keeping to a schedule. He was forever falling victim to distractions - albeit delightful ones - a few days with a mare here, a week or two with one there, and just like that, one season had turned into another! It just so happened to have turned into his least favorite. Now he had to choose whether to stick it out, slog through it all the long way to his original destination (inasmuch as he ever had a destination), or tromp through it the somewhat shorter way to the desert.

He couldn't really complain, his dalliances had absolutely been worth getting himself snowed in, but damn was he cold! The fine-boned stallion puffed out an exasperated sigh and flipped his forelock out of his eyes, scanning the frosty landscape: white, white, more white...blue? There was something - or rather, someone - distinctly bluish moving about in the distance. Intrigued and always hopeful for company, doubly so given the weather, he set out towards the hint of color with steps muffled by the snow.

Soon, he was near enough to see in better detail who had attracted his attention, and was pleased to see that it was a mare, who to all appearances was actually enjoying the snow. He paused to shake away the dusting of snow roaning his thickened coat (another thing to hold against the stuff, ruining his sleek black form!) before approaching to a distance more appropriate for conversation so that he could offer an amiable "Good morning!"

While he hadn't been feeling particularly pleasant until a few minutes ago, nothing brightened his mood like the sight of a pretty mare.


Lady_Ourania

Meepfur


Lady_Ourania

PostPosted: Wed Nov 11, 2015 12:20 am


Lulled by the quiet, she could hear the wet element behind the snow as it piled up around her, gathering cold and feather-light in the dip of her spine. It was difficult to tell whether the footsteps or the voice startled her first, her eyes flaring open and tracking the words to their source. Someone approached at a light canter, dark eyes set in a darker face intent on her position. Dread melted the pleasant chill from her bones, left the mare feeling flushed and uncomfortable. Someone she knew? Habit saw her burrowing her feet into the packed snow, trying to hide the evidence in an act she'd performed so often as a filly. Chione berated herself for the reflexive gesture a moment later, but made no move to correct it. To do so would draw needless attention, and apparently she had done enough of that already.

He ate up the distance between them, and proximity showed her what her ears had already guessed - a stranger out for a stroll. She eyed the stallion warily, taking in the silky black lines of him, the way he looked like a shadow miscast against the glaring backdrop of winter. "Morning," she returned, the answer clipped without yet descending into unfriendly territory. Her gaze searched behind him while she spoke, absorbing in silence the fact that he had no one tailing his steps. Curious, that. He was handsome enough, and something about the way he carried himself implied a self-assurance that had often spelled trouble for someone of her ilk. She would have expected at least one hanger-on in spite of the weather.

"Are you lost?" she asked bluntly, her snarled tail tucked closer to her side to minimize the chances of seeing it stepped on and pinned down. The desire to stand and confront him that way came and went, a tide of heat and indignation that he had yet to earn ushering it onward. Her current position made Chione more vulnerable than she would have liked, especially in uncertain company. He'd called out, though, effectively warning her in a manner devoid of any obvious threat. No claws or paws on his feet, and no fangs in his mouth added to the harmless impression. Prettiness aside, she had no real reason to be suspicious. Chione consciously relaxed her shoulders at the internal reminder, the tight draw of her mouth following suit a few moments later. Not the easiest technique to master, but recent years had given her ample reason to practice.

"You don't look like you're from around here," she added, aiming for casual after the tension that had steeped her previous words. He moved in the snow like it was a chore, nothing of her own enjoyment reflected in the steps he'd taken to draw up to her. Perhaps he'd stumbled onto the wrong path, or the storm had wiped away all familiar markers. Directions were simple enough to give, supposing he had a specific heading in mind. If he was a native of this area, she'd eat her own tailfeathers.
PostPosted: Wed Nov 25, 2015 6:00 am


She was a pretty thing up close, with a coat of blues and purples and a touch of pink, a softly feminine coloration he appreciated...granted, she could have been an obnoxiously bright shade of orange and he would still have thought her pretty, or had one of those tendril tails kalona sometimes had for all he cared. He appreciated beauty of all kinds, and genuinely thought her a lovely thing.

"A lovely morning," he said with a smile, despite the slightly clipped answer he had received, "Particularly now that there is something more than snow to be seen."

"Lost? No, not at all! Not where I had intended to be by this time of year, but that's my own fault for lingering." She was a little short, a little blunt, perhaps a bit uncomfortable if he was reading her right, but his own posture and tone were easy and relaxed. "Though you have me right, I'm not from here. I'm a traveler of sorts. My name is Al-Hattal."


Lady_Ourania

Meepfur


Lady_Ourania

PostPosted: Tue Dec 08, 2015 11:35 pm


His smile, white and dazzling enough to rival the surrounding environment, only served to unbalance her further. Either he'd missed her earlier cues, or chosen to ignore them in favor of furthering the conversation. Perhaps he was a bit dense? Hard to tell just from the look of him, no matter how tempting a correlation it offered. His latter comment snagged her focus before she could pursue the idea, expression narrowing at the ambiguity. It could have been a compliment, or it could have been a jab. More likely, it was just sloppy wording. Overreacting had proven to be a poor tactic in the past, and she wouldn't stoop to it now. Better to let it go, and reevaluate against the backdrop of further dialogue.

Chione exhaled long and slow, then shoved her feet deeper into the chill, powdery layers, pushing upward to bring herself to a stand. Drawn to her full height, she found that she was eye-level with the stallion in question. He'd seemed bigger from the ground, if not in girth, then certainly in height. Just as well, though; she hated it when others loomed. Her taloned toes flexed in a half-hearted attempt to warm them as she listened to him speak, head tilting in a vaguely bird-like gesture. His voice struck her as light and pleasant, and he appeared completely unruffled by both her attitude and appearance. She unobtrusively shook snow from her tail, the pastel-colored pinions near her flank puffing out with the motion. Everything he said more or less confirmed what she'd suspected, right down to his name. Al-Hattal. It was difficult to guess where he hailed from originally, but something about his mannerisms implied that snow was not a common sight there.

"Chione," she said after a momentary pause, realizing that an exchange was expected. And her name was hardly a secret worth guarding, after all, even if she'd fallen out of the habit of speaking it aloud. Or speaking in general, for that matter. Avoidance had proven easier than holding up her end of the conversation, and she'd grown adept at being elsewhere if an unexpected visitor happened to stumble through her temporary homestead. No wonder she was rusty. She cast about for something else to add, some anecdote in the same vein as what he'd supplied. But nothing of immediate interest rose to the surface of her thoughts, at least nothing she wished to share.

Shuffling slightly on clawed feet, Chione became aware that the temperature had dropped another few degrees while they stood talking. Orchid-colored irises flickered upward, noting the way that the clouds had started to darken, the snowfall coming heavier and faster. A near-imperceptible frown creased her lips, forming a dip on her brow. She followed weather patterns enough to know when they were gearing up to turn foul. At this rate, the snow would turn to biting sleet within an hour or two, and everything would freeze anew.

She brought her stare back down to earth, eyeing Al-Hattal's trim frame with a new, calculating element in her gaze. Only fair to warn him, especially if he was susceptible to the cold. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, traveler, but you won't be getting far if this keeps up. There's a storm coming in from the north. Might want to find shelter while you can."
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