[PRP] coming unhinged [ bechtwill + ignis

[houllow]

The weather was changing, and so were they. Winter had long shed its coat and left the world out to air, the sky always a merry blue and the grounds a soft green. It was enough that the winds could no longer carry the sound of bells despite the amount of laughter, and so the bell witch needed to move on. Not to greener pastures - how silly.

No, just on. They could happily stay in the domain of winter, resting in the shadows of branches that refused to grow leaves, but no. They were now Bechtwill, as some would call, and Bechtwill would travel and see. Plan, plot. Oh, the sounds and sights.

The children.

Spring.

Their slow wanderings had lead them to a new park, a place of wonder and noises and brightness. Not too warm, not too cold, but enough.

Full.

Valdmir Talamore

 

[Valdmir Talamore]

One of those noises that could be hear was the scrambling of paws in the underbrush of the trees that surrounded the little park. Ignis mindlessly chased his tail not paying attention to anything else around him till he got dizzy and stopped. He staggered out of the tree line like he was three days drunk. He spotted the other pony and headed strait for them. He gave a toothy grin that was way to big. "WHATCHA DOING?" He said in a way to loud voice before inviting himself into their bubble of space no regards for any sort of manners any other pony would have.

houllow

 

[houllow]

Ahhh, and there it was. The Bell - no, Bechtwill reminder, had been hearing something grow ever closer, ever stronger and louder. There was nothing to fear from this creature, but there was much to be feared from this pony. It would learn, with time. This stallion's arrival into their bubble would be tolerated.

Perhaps even, entertained. They were bored and traveling, after all, and stories were welcome. The storytellers were on a need to know basis.

"I am....traveling." Their voice was like a whisper, but one that could cut as easily as a wire draped where no one could see. The shouts had not bothered Bechtwill, oh no. They were used to screams after all, so how could such noise even hope to ruffle their mane? "I am....looking for someone." Or something. Or many things.

Valdmir Talamore