Peak |
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The Prime MinisterKhar'pern |
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The CodebreakerAshteroth |
The GeneralMarceline |
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The Companions |
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The ThinkersNaydraTitan |
The PoliticiansAraratAxelle Hollis Mae Nashira Serenity |
The WarriorsClarityKaeja Lysimache Starling |
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The TrinketsBelovedCato Cullen Güneşlenmek Isengrim Jigsaw Kazimir Octavius Starscream Yıldırım |
PRIME MINISTER'S DECREE"None." - Leader |
The OffspringDiccon (Cicada x Khar'pern) |
Rules• The Vulcan Peak is where homeless mares come to live as a sisterhood. Stallions may not live here except as captives or companions for the Leaders. • Warriors keep mainly to fighting, Thinkers keep mainly to raiding, and Politicians may do both, neither, or act as diplomats. Members may issue their own battles and raids, but should generally consult the General, Codebreaker or Prime Minister for permission. • All major decisions are determined by vote, but the Prime Minister maintains order within the Peak and has the final say. • Elections for leadership positions will be held every TLI summer, provided the qualifying criteria are met. • You can find detailed information about how the Peak works on the Rules page. |
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Posted on August 20, 2012 at 02:45:49 AM by thane
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| His reason for coming had been to forcibly scrub the scent of the lagoon and all the memories that it held off his skin. As if there was enough boiled water in the world. On the outside, he looks fine, healthy and fit. Even though the slow and thick air of the lagoon had been enough to tire him on the inside, the rich soil and the even richer waters had been enough to restore him to a former glory. While his skin did not shine, for there was a lack of friendly teeth to groom out the grass and dirt stains, and while his mane and tail were tangled up with mossy strays and leaves that belonged to age old trees spread throughout the lagoon.
The grullo stallion still looked different. Even as he had spun, assessing his surroundings, he had not spotted the pale, smooth skin of his only comrade, lurking in the trees and playing the act of guardian angel. Perhaps it was to ensure that he was not confronted, for certainly any sort of physical confrontation would have turned into a scuffle, which in turn would have evolved into a fight- and the peak mistress knew all too well of the stallion’s tendencies to fall into violence, despite his desire to remain unresolved in the art of war. When she shows, he turns about to face her, and then he stares at her for a long time. Minutes, almost. His dark eyes pour over her face, skimming where the lines of age were sitting, despite her always young demeanour and her ability to never age; she too looked different. Perhaps not as grungy, dirty, or wild looking as the stallion with the backwards tilted ears tipped in black, his head held high despite his off-handedly aggressive stance. They say body language is the most important language to horses, and it would seem that the stallion was giving off a mix of words. He stood squarely, legs braced as though he were expecting an attack, but it was how his shoulders were set and how his neck was hung that said he was open for greeting- and then the ears. With how they were folded back, even if they were not slick against his tangled black mess of hair, Thane still held that telltale air of agression that hardened hsi face and looked so natural on him. Time seems to drag on, his eyes burning into her face before he moves forwards, completely ignoring her words, but softening his appearance, almost reaching forwards with his nose. Thane has never touched her before, save during their fight so long ago. The silence seems to have run on for too long now, but he finally breaks it, saying a phrase that had been so common in his homeland, but something that, he imagined, must have never been uttered here, the way the customs go. Ducking his head a bit as was custom, he looks up at her through dark eyelashes and half-lidded eyes. “May I touch you?” His voice is quiet, not as rough sounding as he says the phrase, just begging for a touch of home in place of all the new customs here that had flooded him and overwhelmed him. He’s sure she will be thrown off by this request, as it is a rather personal one that breeches the wordless agreement of their friendship, pushing just past what had been comfortable for the both of them and perhaps being enough to make Anath nervous. Once again he speaks, this time just her name as he lets it roll off his tongue for a moment. “Anath.” Like he needs to get her attention, with his dark eyes burning into her skin and his face holding a familiarly blank expression. Somewhere inside, the hammering of his head has ceased and his conscience has stopped blaming him for what had happened. But now, everything is silent, and he finds solace in that. Thane "The swamp king moves in stealthy silence." stallion. mutt. smoky grullo. Ee aa DD nCr. 15.2 hh. character and text by russell. |
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Replies:
- LEGENDS NEVER DIE - By ANATH August 20, 2012 at 04:43:50 AM
- Pure, innocent instinct. - By thane August 20, 2012 at 07:03:06 PM
- LEGENDS NEVER DIE - By ANATH August 21, 2012 at 08:50:57 PM
- you win, or you die - By ravnur August 21, 2012 at 10:33:43 PM
- Pure, innocent instinct. - By thane August 24, 2012 at 07:12:20 AM
- LEGENDS NEVER DIE - By ANATH August 24, 2012 at 06:37:18 PM
- Pure, innocent instinct. - By thane August 24, 2012 at 07:12:20 AM
- you win, or you die - By ravnur August 21, 2012 at 10:33:43 PM
- LEGENDS NEVER DIE - By ANATH August 21, 2012 at 08:50:57 PM
- Pure, innocent instinct. - By thane August 20, 2012 at 07:03:06 PM
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