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+--- Thread: Neverwinter Forest faoi bhun mo chiche beats croi de laochra fior (/showthread.php?tid=20793)
faoi bhun mo chiche beats croi de laochra fior - Szabala - March 01, 2017
All welcome! Please excuse me while I attempt to get into her character!
Despite all that had been on the Theta's mind, she found herself trodding jovially through the evergreens she loved so dearly. There was a song in the young maiden's heart, despite the sorrow that encompassed her life. Szabala, her family, and the rest of the pack had gone through many hardships in a short span of time, and the eldest of Kaskara's brood didn't feel like bearing such feelings on this peculiarly sunny day. The light that reached through the limbs of the evergreens rejuvenated the lass and almost made her feel anew. Despite this, and even on the girl's happiest of days, she would still find some darkness in realizing that she could not share such feelings with her father.
This realization came to her as she pulled up to the river that ran through the forest. It overtook her suddenly, occupying her mind within a shake of a lamb's tail. Szabala was not a stranger to the sudden shift in her mood, especially when it came to thinking of Kieran, but she wished that it didn't affect her so. There were times in which the feeling almost destroyed her and others in which the thought appeared to her like a gnat, annoying her with its sudden appearance.
Bowing on the riverbank, Szabala bowed so that she could lap at the water's surface while her eyes roved the surrounding territory. She was hoping that she could find something to distract her, but, currently, it appeared as if nothing captivating was occurring around her.
RE: faoi bhun mo chiche beats croi de laochra fior - Cypress - March 02, 2017
NOTE: In Cypress’ personal timeline, this takes place after his thread with Rian and before his thread with Ondine.
Cypress didn’t mind the way the murkwater turned his fur into a wreath of twisted brambles. He didn’t mind the blood that streamed down his forelegs and blotted the mismatched corners of his mouth. The Eastmire was swiftly growing on him as a favored — and literal — stomping ground, and he felt an instinctive possessiveness toward it, but it provided little in the way of drinkable water. Reluctant as he was to leave it, his parched throat and empty gut led him briefly away — and he thought again of Alya and her brilliant blue eyes — eyes that had become a shade uniquely their own the closer and longer he looked.
Alya was the Eastmire — an entity that he wanted to protect and preserve at all costs; a sanctuary that settled and grounded him — but she was the river, too. For want of her company, he’d willingly breach the unknown, because she satisfied something in him that he still couldn’t fully understand. Reuniting with Rian had empowered the haggard raven in a strange, invigorating way, and his long legs had a glimmer of their old snap as he trotted without thinking to the stretch of river he’d decided to add to his claim.
Lapping at the water was a female of short, compact construction and pale coloration, and Cypress’ immediate response was to backpedal. Stricken, he paused midstride and rewound, settling his weight on his asymmetrically settled hind paws as he glanced nervously over his shoulder with a furtive air. One muddy forepaw hung awkwardly in midair before he swallowed hard and placed it, forcing himself to refocus as he licked at his bloodied lips. He knew who the girl was by process of elimination: she hadn’t been present on the Night of Fireflies, and she certainly wasn’t Rian, so, “Szabala?” he intoned, uncertainty and adolescence causing his quiet baritenor to crack sharply in the middle with a squeak. One tall, sharp ear winged awry. Did he introduce himself? He knew who she was, and he thought she knew who he was — there were no other black wolves in Neverwinter Forest, after all — but this was their first time actually conversing.
“Sorry,” he muttered ineloquently, apologizing for his unkempt appearance and his absence and everything in between.
Alya was the Eastmire — an entity that he wanted to protect and preserve at all costs; a sanctuary that settled and grounded him — but she was the river, too. For want of her company, he’d willingly breach the unknown, because she satisfied something in him that he still couldn’t fully understand. Reuniting with Rian had empowered the haggard raven in a strange, invigorating way, and his long legs had a glimmer of their old snap as he trotted without thinking to the stretch of river he’d decided to add to his claim.
Lapping at the water was a female of short, compact construction and pale coloration, and Cypress’ immediate response was to backpedal. Stricken, he paused midstride and rewound, settling his weight on his asymmetrically settled hind paws as he glanced nervously over his shoulder with a furtive air. One muddy forepaw hung awkwardly in midair before he swallowed hard and placed it, forcing himself to refocus as he licked at his bloodied lips. He knew who the girl was by process of elimination: she hadn’t been present on the Night of Fireflies, and she certainly wasn’t Rian, so, “Szabala?” he intoned, uncertainty and adolescence causing his quiet baritenor to crack sharply in the middle with a squeak. One tall, sharp ear winged awry. Did he introduce himself? He knew who she was, and he thought she knew who he was — there were no other black wolves in Neverwinter Forest, after all — but this was their first time actually conversing.
“Sorry,” he muttered ineloquently, apologizing for his unkempt appearance and his absence and everything in between.
RE: faoi bhun mo chiche beats croi de laochra fior - Szabala - March 06, 2017
It was as if Szabala's boredom had conjured her cousin's arrival. Turning her attention to the raven's nearing form, she watched with interest as he made his way onto the scene. He looked much healthier than she had recalled and it seemed as though he was well onto the path of healing. This pleased the Theta significantly. She had been concerned for her cousin since the news of his parent's passing had spread through the forest like wildfire, yet, she had not gone out of her way to seek him in his time of need. Instead, she allowed him to heal to his own accord, just as other had done when her father had vanished.
When Cypress realized that he was not alone, he back peddled in a manner that tickled the girl's fancy. Lifting her chin from the water's surface so that she could watch her cousin carefully. Her eyes scrunched as an enchanting laugh escaped from his parted lips, humored by the way he moved. When her name was spoken, she perked. "Ae," partially confused about the tone in which he spoke her name. More confusion ensued as he went on to apologize and in response, she tilted her head.
"Sowree?" she questioned, her brows lifting as she spoke. "Wot dew yew 'afta be sowree fur?"
RE: faoi bhun mo chiche beats croi de laochra fior - Cypress - March 11, 2017
Cypress’ ears winged out to either side of his narrow skull like the wings of a mantling raven at the enchanting lilt of Szabala’s laughter, but sprang forward upon his crown at the thick brogue that shaped her words. It was subtler in Rian, but Cypress didn’t have any trouble comprehending her. “I don’t know,” he admitted, feeling…sort of weird. His cousin was beautiful, and he enjoyed her attention, but he didn’t really know what to do with it. Almost immediately he’d come to regret engaging her, but it was too late.
“I’m not the only one who lost someone,” the eidolon said in a careful baritenor, “but I didn’t want to see anyone and — well, my mama and paw would’ve been disappointed if they knew I stayed away on purpose.” That was the biggest reason for his apology, but he tacked on the other things, too: “and I’m all muddy.” Cypress’ sinister sulphureous gaze settled firmly upon his toes.
He was assured by his cousin that she did not mind his presence, and they spent a pleasant afternoon together before he returned to the Eastmire and she to her family.
“I’m not the only one who lost someone,” the eidolon said in a careful baritenor, “but I didn’t want to see anyone and — well, my mama and paw would’ve been disappointed if they knew I stayed away on purpose.” That was the biggest reason for his apology, but he tacked on the other things, too: “and I’m all muddy.” Cypress’ sinister sulphureous gaze settled firmly upon his toes.
He was assured by his cousin that she did not mind his presence, and they spent a pleasant afternoon together before he returned to the Eastmire and she to her family.