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+--- Thread: Chimera Fields Until you step into the unknown, you don’t know what you’re made of (/showthread.php?tid=21367)
Until you step into the unknown, you don’t know what you’re made of - Isora - April 07, 2017
The sun was slowly setting beyond the horizon, the sky beginning to take on a much darker hue compared to the warm glow that had previously painted the heavens. The warmth of the early afternoon sun was fading and now the crescent moon could faintly been seen by any wondering eyes that decided to search above. And stood, quietly amongst the tall grass, Isora allowed her own bright eyes to peer up to the sky, the girl's sleek tail giving an idle sway behind her till her blue gaze looked away from the sight and on to the path ahead of her. Isora continued on her way, white socked paws guiding the girl carefully through the fields as her heart pounded excitedly within her chest – her body trembling as she glanced around warily. She wasn't at home any more and knew that this was just the beginning of her new adventure.
Walking at a slow and curious pace, a sudden cold breeze blew, her light ears twitching as she listened to the soft rustling of the long grass dance around her, bright eyes watching as they swayed gently to and fro in a calming way. Isora gigled lightly, blonde and white tail wagging behind her as she then skipped forwards, bounding through the field, weaving and winding through the tall grass that seemed to swallow her form.
RE: Until you step into the unknown, you don’t know what you’re made of - rip gemini - April 07, 2017
hope you don't me & a wild mato!
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Mato grows bolder and takes to territories out of the immediate vicinity of Broken Antler Fen. The worry that he might meet reprimand are briefly considered but he does not focus upon them largely. He knows the way back home and swears to himself he will return home promptly when he has finished exploring. The heath grass sways idly on the soft breeze, tickling against his elbows and hocks as he wades through it careful not to trample. It is not entirely avoidable, of course, but the druid gives his best attempt nevertheless. It bows beneath him and underfoot as he surpasses it to what he can only describe as a scar of the land. These Fields are a true wonder, he thinks as he moves so he can study the odd phenomenon before him. One half is filled with life and the other is desolate. It is a marvel, he thinks as he cast his gaze between the two faced territory. His attention is drawn from the inspection of the chimeric marvel before him as the sound of a light giggle carries upon the breeze. His ears splay to the side of his crown before they smooth back to rest at half mast atop his skull as his verdant gaze studies the tall heath grasses when he just barely catches them rustle in a manner that is unnatural for the breeze and a fleeing shape takes a canid shape. A low chuff spills forth betwixt the powerful druid’s lips as he aims to draw attention to — if nothing else — his presence to avoid startling her.
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RE: Until you step into the unknown, you don’t know what you’re made of - Isora - April 07, 2017
Not at all! Sorry for the tired post :3
She was caught off guard in mid jump, Isora's concentration being broken as her bright eyes opened in surprise to the sudden sound of a chuff, one loud enough to indicate to the girl that the source was lingering close by. The she wolf came tumbling down to the ground with a loud thud and then with no control, rolled out from the tall grass and into view of the stranger. For a moment, she laid there on the floor in a heap, her bushy tail flailing around as she sheepishly found her way back to her paws, the girl's bright eyes eventually meeting those of the silver hued male and Isora offered him a small smile. Slowly her light ears flicked back against her skull as she shifted her posture, embarrassment washing over her as she licked her muzzle, ”Hi there.” She offered softly, pearly whites revealed in an awkward smile as she dipped her head politely, ”I'm Isora.” The girl blurted out as her white paws shifted upon the rough, dead ground, "I'm new to the area.." She said with a small wag of her tail, her blue eyes averting to the floor as she gradually noticed the split within the lands, one side seemed to be alive and the other.. well, not so much, ”Any idea on what happened here?” Isora asked curiously, cream muzzle pointing to the difference between the two plains.
RE: Until you step into the unknown, you don’t know what you’re made of - rip gemini - April 08, 2017
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The empyrean watches as the girl gives a start — so much for his attempt to keep from startling her! — and watches with an unapologetic leer upon his lips as she rolls out of the tall heath grasses. Mato does not inherently mean to mock but he lets out a low snicker of amusement nevertheless as she flails about before him attempting to find her paws; forgetting that he once harbored a clumsy, inelegance not so very long ago. Her blue eyes are bright, the druid notices as her gaze touches his for a moment. “Hello,” The druid offers her, unable to mask the mirth that threatens to spill from betwixt his lips. It bubbles in the strong column of his throat but never breaks the surface. “Mato.” The empyrean offers her simply after she gives her own name. His muzzle extends ever-so-slightly towards her so he can take in her scent with a flare of his black, leathery nostrils. He drinks it in noting that unlike him she is lone. She confirms this information a few seconds later when she admits she is new to the area and inquires as to what has transpired to the chimeric territory. He is decidedly not new to the Wilds but the druid cannot say what has necessarily happened. This is his first time visiting the two-faced lands but the scars run deep. He can see it, he can feel it — the ache. “I do not know,” The druid admits, verdant gaze sweeping over the ruined half of the territory, noting the felled trees. “It could have been powerful winds or a wildfire.” Though there is a distinct lack of charring; but he does not know for sure as he has never bore witness to either disaster. “There is ache to the earth here,” He murmurs his thoughts aloud, as if he has forgotten she is even there. “perhaps it will one day be reborn,” He muses quietly. “— or perhaps it will always bear these scars.” There are more experienced naturalists who would, without a doubt, know much better than he.
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RE: Until you step into the unknown, you don’t know what you’re made of - Isora - April 10, 2017
Blue eyes gleamed in the light of the setting sun as her bushy blonde tail swished behind her, the girl's ears twitching a top her head as she caught the male's mirthful snigger, which caused Isora to tilt her head some. Though a smile still grew across her lips when the stranger replied in greeting, the blonde wolf politely dipping her head when the other introduced himself as, Mato and Isora offered a friendly wag of her tail, ”Mato, it's a pleasure.” She said softly. The girl's blue eyes focusing on the silver wolf, quietly watching as he leant in somewhat to inhale her scent and instantly, without thinking, Isora mimicked the gesture, but with a light hearted giggle.
Gradually, her attention turned back to the lacerated ground as Mato's voice sounded, a blank expression crossing her face when he replied, stating that he didn't know, but went on to explain the possibilities of what could've happen to cause such damage to the terrain. Isora was silent, eyes peering to the land with an earnest stare, a soft sigh escaping her lips for a moment, till her light tanned ears arched forward, catching the sound of Mato's voice. She listened as he mentioned that there was an ache in the earth and slowly, Isora glanced over to the silver male with a curious gaze as he continued on. The young female licked her muzzle briefly, till the young man fell silent, the girl's soft voice sounding out, ”Oh, I guess that makes sense.” She said, tail swaying gently as she spoke once again, ”Are you a herbalist or something?” Isora questioned inquisitively, bright eyes observing him with a fascinated stare.
RE: Until you step into the unknown, you don’t know what you’re made of - rip gemini - April 10, 2017
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Mato is drawn from his thoughts and their poetic and verbose ramblings as her voice breaks his concentration, reminding him that he is, in fact, not alone. Verdant gaze rises from the chimeric earth to rest upon her once more. Of course it makes sense, Mato bites his tongue to keep the words from spilling from betwixt his lips. The thought is particularly harsh and unfair. It is a perfectly normal thing to wonder: he, too, wonders what happened here. He is not sure where the scathing thought came from. He has been taught better manners than that, and he knows that not all are as attune with nature as he. The druid’s ears cupped forth, politely attentive as she breaks the silence once more. A herbalist or something. A herbalist or something. In her defense, it is a fair observation. A fair question; and botanist isn’t — technically — that far from geologist. The empyrean draws back slightly, brow furrows and ears smooth against his skull. The self proclaimed king of starlight understands she did not mean it to be an insult (and truly it shouldn’t have been as were they not of the same vein his aspirations and botanist were all different facets of the naturalist trade) but he is like an imperious house cat: gossamer pride so easily affronted.
Her fascinated observing of him does not slip from beneath the druid’s notice and his riposte withers where it burns against his tongue. “Not quite,” The starlight king corrects her as conciliatory as he can manage. She is inquisitive and he appreciates that. “A botanist, or herbalist as you called it,” Mato pauses to draw his salmon pink tongue across his jowls. “they are specalists in plant care and identification.” He remembers what he deduced of the balance of nature — of the cycle of life and death. “I am a guardian of sorts, attuned to the earth and the balance to nature.” He thinks to the duties he has taken upon himself since that day with his father: of going through the Fen’s caches and sorting out rotted meat from flesh still good for consumption, burying the rotted meat so it might give life. “As the earth nurtures us so must we nurture her.” That way it remained a symbiotic relationship instead of a parasitic one. “And I am a navigator of the stars.” He was no master (not yet) but his navigation skills are improving, he has noticed. He is still curious about the untold stories the constellations hold but as he ages the druid has begun to seek more practical uses of his chosen skills.
“You have yet to give me your name.” He reminds her after he has fallen silent, giving her some time to interject and inquire as she wishes.
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Her fascinated observing of him does not slip from beneath the druid’s notice and his riposte withers where it burns against his tongue. “Not quite,” The starlight king corrects her as conciliatory as he can manage. She is inquisitive and he appreciates that. “A botanist, or herbalist as you called it,” Mato pauses to draw his salmon pink tongue across his jowls. “they are specalists in plant care and identification.” He remembers what he deduced of the balance of nature — of the cycle of life and death. “I am a guardian of sorts, attuned to the earth and the balance to nature.” He thinks to the duties he has taken upon himself since that day with his father: of going through the Fen’s caches and sorting out rotted meat from flesh still good for consumption, burying the rotted meat so it might give life. “As the earth nurtures us so must we nurture her.” That way it remained a symbiotic relationship instead of a parasitic one. “And I am a navigator of the stars.” He was no master (not yet) but his navigation skills are improving, he has noticed. He is still curious about the untold stories the constellations hold but as he ages the druid has begun to seek more practical uses of his chosen skills.
“You have yet to give me your name.” He reminds her after he has fallen silent, giving her some time to interject and inquire as she wishes.
RE: Until you step into the unknown, you don’t know what you’re made of - Isora - April 24, 2017
Sorry for the wait and sucky post :(
Isora paused as Mato spoke in response, her head tilting to the side slightly as she watched him with curious blue eyes, ”Oh.” She said softly, blue gaze averting from the male back to the tarnished earth as his voice sounded once again. She remained silent, her tail swaying behind her as she listened carefully to his voice, ears constantly twitching a top her head as he went on to explain the difference between the two. In truth, Isora had grown up around hunters and fighters and found the discussion of the earth and stars to be an engrossing topic, though her father had wanted her to become a fighter, Isora knew that becoming a warrior wasn't something that interested her, so as Mato continued talking, the blonde and cream female kept her gaze upon the silvery wolf.
Her light fur bristled as a sudden cold wind blew through the land causing the tall grass to dance again behind her, ”I'd never really thought of it like that.” Isora said with a slight smile, her head dipping some as she thought more about it all, ”I have to say, you're very wise.” The girl smirked, ”Or maybe, you've had a really good teacher?” She giggled lightly, offering a playful wag of her tail, until his voice sounded once more and a singular ear twitched as Mato asked for her name, ”I'm Isora.” She replied simply.
RE: Until you step into the unknown, you don’t know what you’re made of - rip gemini - May 13, 2017
i'll go ahead and archive this.
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She calls him wise — a compliment that the empyrean is ready to accept humbly and in the next breath tears it down and snatches it from him by linking his intellect to a good teacher. For a moment, realizing that the insult (though a part of Mato understands that she perhaps does not mean it this way) entirely erases the compliment. Yes, Mato acknowledges, he has a good teacher. Sebastian was a great teacher, even, but he was more than just his father’s teachings. He did not speak his words mindlessly, like a parrot taught to mimic. He had his own interpretations of the things Sebastian taught him and to demean them so cruelly by claiming he is nothing more than mimicked ideals leaves the druid with a sour taste in his mouth. Seething in indignation the starlight king’s lip curls back over his teeth. The impulse to spit that he is intelligent on his own and that no one could possibly teach intellect (for Sebastian could have taught him and Mato could have been as unyielding as a rock) bubbles on the tip of his tongue but he refrains. This indignant beast of wounded pride feels ugly to the druid but he cannot help that he is insulted and no longer wishes to spend any further time in her company. “I have to leave,” The air of the fields has changed, filled with tension that snaps on the chilly wind and he mimics the chill of the wind with terse lips and stiff shoulders. “Good day, Isora.” He is cordial with his parting words before he turns abruptly and heads back the way he came eager to leave her behind.
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