<font size=2 face=times color=d1d1d1><i>Moth wings & dusty books.</i></font>; any

Your King Asmodeus
Your Queen ~~Nyimara~~
The Second None
The Herd Name, Name, Name		The Sub-Herd Name, Name, Name
Allies Name (Land)		Enemies Solomon (Cove)
The Rules There will be no fraternizing with enemies. If you put yourself knowingly in danger, don't expect a rescue. We are only as strong as our weakest link. See to it that you are getting stronger in some skill that is useful, whether it is battling, recruiting, charming, etc. The King and Queen have final say in all matters.

Moth wings & dusty books.; any
Posted on May 31, 2012 at 11:32:18 PM by sova

s o v a

The sun had been dying that day. When she had found her father, sombre and on the edge of the shore, his eyes turned mysteriously out to the sea, she had asked him about her. Her mother, of course. Whether or not he had remembered her had been a test all in itself, but his answer had been short and satisfactory, before, with barely a blink or a farewell, he dove into the ocean and started making for some other coastline, one that was far, far away.

Sova had returned several weeks later, her legs tired from walking and fighting with the salt water sea, her mind swimming with all the questions that had risen from the smallest mention of her mother. When the black mare had been happy and weak, twisted up in the strange embrace of the stallion, seemed like it would have been a long ago, long, long before Sova had even become the smallest inkling of a thought. Alas, she was infact in their minds, because it was only through odd creativity and careful steps taken in the consummation of her parents� love that she was conceived. Even if Lyov had assumed that Sova had died inside her mother, who had in turn died because of the strain of a child upon her already terribly weakened hips.

These some odd weeks later had been filled with a particular nothingness, just blank stares that pushed out into open areas, staring at unfamiliar faces and listening to the questions that mulled over violently in her head, like a battle in the forum.

She wasn�t entirely certain when she decided to return to the desert.

By now, with winter already having passed without her seeing a day of snow in the islands, she had landed on the edge of the sandy wasteland to discover that something was amiss. Not that she had expected Encantador to stand aside waiting graciously for her return, but she felt somewhat forgotten. Even though she had decided that she would make her home here, and perhaps she would one day turn to having a family (though the thought was tragic and painful, seeing as how her once strong and valiant family had fallen with the death of her grandfathers). Instead of moseying into the terrain and calling out for anyone to find her, she instead stands undecided at the edge of the ocean, the water licking at her heels and her wet mane sticking coolly to her neck. Sova looked tired and confused, even with her amber eyes pouring over the vast landscape round her, she can�t really discern why she had decided to come here in the first place.

Sova Lyovna Levanevskaya, the little russian owl.
mare. smoky black. three years. mutt. Ee aa nCr. 15.1 hands.
sova: pronounced as soh-vah.

html & character by Russell

Replies:

The devil is in the details - By El Aran June 1, 2012 at 06:01:12 AM
- Moth wings & dusty books. - By sova June 1, 2012 at 09:26:55 AM
  - The devil is in the details - By El Aran June 6, 2012 at 03:16:06 PM
    - x - By Canta June 16, 2012 at 02:42:22 PM

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