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+--- Thread: Ravenshook Cliffs enter, stranger, but take heed (/showthread.php?tid=24766)
enter, stranger, but take heed - Flaris - January 10, 2018
We don't have to do both threads at once, but here's our first! @Smokestep :) p.s. sorry dis got long
The cold, lofty nights and abbreviated days had begun to bleed together for Flaris the Second. She was growing tired of her father's unflappable cheeriness, and had even begun to resent meeting him at all; but this was before realizing that their long season's journey had been for naught.
"These are The Sentinels?" she had asked coldly, unable (or unwilling) to hide her disappointment and disgust from him. Beginning to think that maybe she preferred her fathers to remain of the absentee kind.
I don't know what happened... this place was.. it was beautiful.
It was magical.
But a lot of it now was charred. Its ancient green countenance burned -- and now frostbitten -- defaced for all to see. Flaris snorted. "It's nothing now -- you've wasted my time." She scowled, her typically unfettered mood dashed as she realized the hardships she'd needlessly have to face now; all because she had chosen to trust a wolf who looked like her, and had believed her mother when she had assured her it was wise.
She supposed none of this was his fault, but Flaris was young still and impulsive because of it. Blame needed to lie somewhere, and she certainly wouldn't shoulder it herself. She missed Avarice in this moment, who up until the arrival of Flaris the First, had been her red right-hand. He had chosen wisely to stay with their mother, and she remembered scoffing at him for a lack of bravery that she now saw as sheer intellect. Loathe as she was to admit her decision had been the wrong one.
My dear, we can find the Donnelaith wolves, I'm sure. Let us just do a bit of searchi--
"No," the young twin balked, her tone implying that she was appalled at the very idea. "I won't spend another minute with you. Stay and hunt for your past if you'd like, Father," she spat the word like bile. "Either way, I'm going on without you." The man protested of course, and followed his daughter for some time, but when her resolve to be rid of him turned to physical retaliation, he let her on without another word.
* * *
A raw snowstorm brewed overhead, turning the sky to pitch before the sun could even set. Flaris felt that the weather suited her, as frigid and tumultuous as it was, so she followed the salt-scent of the ocean, hoping to observe its might. She reached the coarse outcroppings of Ravenshook, and looked out to the wild sea from her perch. The sound of the waves -- dancing, crashing, spraying, and clawing -- soothed her miring spirit, and as she faced the coming storm with whiplashed fur and burning eyes, she vowed in a prayer to overcome.
RE: enter, stranger, but take heed - Smokestep - January 12, 2018
lovely post! i'm happy to start our second one too if you want that to run at the same time, or we can definitely wait. you just let me know <3
The waters rocked back and forth with the hand of the wind guiding them. His pale figure stood, shoulder deep, as the waves crashed against him. The Kingfisher was pushed to and fro. He struggled to hold his ground against her might. He had been taught that if he were to submerge himself and glide beneath the swell, she would turn from a violent beat to a serene and breathtaking other world. It was one that he knew would never bring him disappointment, and so the seafarer would spend the remainder of his days devoted to her.
Another crash beat against his chest and he took the opportunity to return to shore. The long quills of fur that stood along his neck and shoulders were drenched, but still erect. The ghost appeared almost otherworldly as he picked his way from the edge of the water to the beaten path that lead upward through the decimation of the forest.
Skellige had spoken fondly of the wolves who had lived there. Deirdre had been sweet and gentle. Smokestep had spent a vast majority of his childhood in wild disbelief that the two had found love in each other. He – as savage and unforgiving as the sea, and her – an ethereal sprite of the woodland. Did she know what had happened to her homeland? Did she know that it had been devastated? He did not care much to inform her, if she didn't. Smokestep was not likely to be returning to Warsaw.
Stepping through the woods, his limbs carried him carefully across fallen log and scorched earth. He did not understand why one would choose to live in the woods. The risk was not equal to the reward. The sea, though; she carried the answers and the touch of flame did not threaten the surge of the water. The temptress did not fear what the earth had for her. She fought back with reckless abandon.
Through the wood and onward, Kingfisher caught sight of a dark figure further ahead. He watched her with a steady heterochromatic stare. He followed with a brazen swagger. The length of his spindly limbs carried him swiftly, but he did not say anything to her. He watched and did not fall far behind, hoping to close the space between them. When the inky female did not seem interested in his company, he moved on and did not part his lips to speak with her at all. The pallid creature vanished and found his way back to the coast some time later.
Another crash beat against his chest and he took the opportunity to return to shore. The long quills of fur that stood along his neck and shoulders were drenched, but still erect. The ghost appeared almost otherworldly as he picked his way from the edge of the water to the beaten path that lead upward through the decimation of the forest.
Skellige had spoken fondly of the wolves who had lived there. Deirdre had been sweet and gentle. Smokestep had spent a vast majority of his childhood in wild disbelief that the two had found love in each other. He – as savage and unforgiving as the sea, and her – an ethereal sprite of the woodland. Did she know what had happened to her homeland? Did she know that it had been devastated? He did not care much to inform her, if she didn't. Smokestep was not likely to be returning to Warsaw.
Stepping through the woods, his limbs carried him carefully across fallen log and scorched earth. He did not understand why one would choose to live in the woods. The risk was not equal to the reward. The sea, though; she carried the answers and the touch of flame did not threaten the surge of the water. The temptress did not fear what the earth had for her. She fought back with reckless abandon.
Through the wood and onward, Kingfisher caught sight of a dark figure further ahead. He watched her with a steady heterochromatic stare. He followed with a brazen swagger. The length of his spindly limbs carried him swiftly, but he did not say anything to her. He watched and did not fall far behind, hoping to close the space between them. When the inky female did not seem interested in his company, he moved on and did not part his lips to speak with her at all. The pallid creature vanished and found his way back to the coast some time later.