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Horizon Ridge mara mesta - Printable Version

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mara mesta - JB13 - July 22, 2018

The light of urin grew stronger each and every day. There was no end in sight for the brilliance or the warmth it afforded, and the days grew long in accordance with the season. Brier dominated the majority of the slab-like plateau, and the scrubland itself was home to many tiny birds singing their praises to urin with their sweet little voices. It was the late morning—the sky was clear and so bright, it seemed to stretch on endlessly, transitioning between a striking azure and deep cerulean along the horizon. And there, among the ruins of scattered rock, a pale shape drifted. It might have carried itself like some lowly hravan; a wild beast, which was apt, for she was a wild thing and more a creature than a wolf, or so she had been told. She was smaller than the mighty wolf that roamed the wilderness and this was a fact that little Ruku accepted, for there was no way to dispute it. Being smaller made her quick but not quick enough, lithe but not powerful, and even if she had wished to be something more, her brethren would always overpower her. Such a meek thing she was, and she slunk across the earth with the hope that no-one would notice her. It was better this way.

When the figure finally gave pause, she was on the leading edge of a brook. It might have been stronger at another time of the year, but the summer heat had worn away at its limited supply of water—she dipped her face to the surface and tried to lap at what remained, and stopped a moment later. The grit of grainy clay touched upon her tongue; the water had been sitting for too long and was not palatable. She moved on in mere moments and the deeper she went across the plateau, the more amazed she was by the vista that spawned around her. There were many weary trees with sun-baked leaves dotting the hillside interspersed with evergreens (some tinged with reds rather than their natural deep greens, and she felt a sudden stab at her heart, knowing what ailed them and also knowing she could not stop their decline), dense scrubland peppered by the amorphous shapes of broken boulders and loose clay that had settled many days ago. She dipped her nose towards patches of this too, investigating the gaps in the plateau and the piles of rock which had fallen in to place. Something had gone desperately wrong here—and she wondered what it had looked like in its prime.

When there came a shift of movement in the trees, the pale figure stopped and without thinking her body flattened against the dirt. Whisps of thin fur floated around her with a gossamer sheen. She looked sharply towards a nearby copse of trees as they shuddered beneath the pull of a warm wind, and realized a moment later that she was watching a small doe with an aging fawn creep through the trees. The fluttering of the creature's heart abated somewhat; her gaze softened and while her body did not relax entirely, she began to slip along after the tiny family. Her goal was not to harm them—she was merely an observer, and hardly equipped for the task of taking the fawn for her own gain. Alas, that would have helped her—hunger was ever-present for the girl, but she knew she could not do it without proper praise and supplication to her people's gods. 

Instead, she breathily spoke a smaller prayer. Eru lye mánata, and the mother doe lifted her head from grazing; the girl took the twitch of an ear and lazy descent of her long neck as acquiescence, and let a rare smile press upon her face.


it is absolutely not necessary to match this, omg, i'm sorry i just got really in to it.



RE: mara mesta - Cephaloryn - July 24, 2018

He didn't explore too much, preferring to stick to the island. Sometimes though he would stretch his legs just far enough to last him another few weeks of being held down in Undersea. Perhaps held down was harsh but he did feel rather tied there. Only through loyalty though, not from fear.

The land grew rough beneath him as he seemed to elevate. A look over his shoulder exposed the coast to his silver gaze. How odd to think he had been so familiar with the place only to be sorely mistaken when given a wider view. There were parts he had never even seen let alone touched. It was breath taking.

Rokig kept moving. Each step he told himself just a little bit further, there was no harm in exploring. He would stop by the river on his way home to pick up a fish or two as a silent apology for his absence (although he was mildly unsure of who would notice. Maegi? Seelie? Stockholm?).

His nose twitched gently at more lively scents mingling. Prey and a fellow predator. Curiosity dragged him along for the ride. Silver eyes spotted a pale figure that made him halt. They looked positively ghostly yet beautiful. A gasp escaped him as the disproportionate male found himself unsure of what to do.



RE: mara mesta - JB13 - July 31, 2018

The fawn was most peculiar, but it was new to the world and adapting to it. Clinging to it's mother's shadow with as much care and control as that tiny body could muster. The mother must have been aware of the pale maiden; as she moved along through the trees the child gave pause, and so she stopped and raised her head. Ruku felt the wind shift across her narrow shoulders—it's change brought something else to her attention, but before she could conciously make sense of it the doe had startled and hurried to move along. It did not bolt, but it was clear by the strain in the mother's haunches that it was fighting the fight-or-flight instinct. The fawn was too small to make such a run. If the doe left now, as instinct demanded of her, then the child would fall behind. Ruku watched them go—they crossed through a gap among a copse of alder trees, and only then would Ruku begin to fathom what the wind was whispering.

The scent had a salinity to it that reminded her of the bubbling brooks of the forest, of the minerals found in ponds, but much more concentrated and specific. She had never seen the ocean before and had no concept of a great river filled with salt—but the wind blustered again, and the scent was stronger. She sighed deeply. There was no way for the wandering girl to recognize where, precisely, this person was—but she knew she was not alone, and that precipitated only a slight change to her demeanor.

She looked to the path she had been taking and, oddly, took on the aspect of that startled doe with the arch of her neck and widening of her pale eyes. Only briefly did she do this, and soon she was back to aligning her head and shoulders, staying low. Whether this was due to her own fear or a learned behavior was unclear. She could have called out, but did not. She cold also have bolted—but, much like the doe, she appeared to be calculating what to do next.