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Post by Crow'sia on Sept 23, 2007 19:00:58 GMT -5
MESMERIZE PSYCHRO
fear of the cold
It had been seven long years and she was finally looking for a place to settle down, the turmoil of her mind having settled at last, only a few remnants of self inflected insanity remaining. She felt for once at peace, her mind calm and blank, her memory washed. She did remember one stallion though, how pretty he was. A god really. But all else seemed insignificant. It was a clean slate, a new beginning.
Today was one of those unnaturally warm spring mornings although the sun was about midway through its rise and fall through the sky. She had selected this horrible and arid place to live, only because it seemed like the closest thing to winter heat she would get. However the idea of open land and wind did disturb her. These thoughts were pushed aside. She had begun in a place that seemed to be uninhabited, and now she was hoping to find others, compelled at last into collectivism. If the Desert proved to be useless, Mes would move on.
And so far, it was just that. An empty land which she could only eye with varying levels of distaste. It was this distaste that made her cry so pitched, so sickeningly loud and dangerous. She was only filled with frustration and failure. Had there not always been others around? Why now when she needed them were they gone! Mes found herself tearing apart a number of small stunted trees, which grew at the edge of the small oasis she had been inhabiting. She dropped to her knees, eyeing a pond idly. How she longed to rip apart something that could truly feel.
Ridiculous. She would move on by night fall.
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Post by moka on Sept 24, 2007 21:08:30 GMT -5
Fell Keeper Of The Desert Huge black stained brute shifted in his sleep, in his dreamng stts a sickening cry rang through the air, thank goodness it was only a dream... Or was it? the stallion's optics opned with a flash, his hole body changing from rest to alert in a matter of seconds. His nostrils quivered as the scent of a femmora wafted on the slight breeze. The climate was always hot here, but it was warmer now that winter's chill was leaving the isles, but no matter. Fell shifted his great mass, unlocking his knee joints. He lashed his tail and three beated his way around his kingdom. The only place he thought any equine would wander to in this wastland would be the oasis.... if they could find it. Optics wide to catch any the shapes in the fadding light, he spoted a figure around the stumpy trees and cactie. He noted the flying splinters as the femmora lashed out at it. He saw her frame drop to her knees and nose the spring waters; he slowed his pace and walked the rest of the way there. He was in no rush at'tal. Are you lost? Or is your fancy this wast-land of mine.His optics were slightly amused, he was often good at sneeking up on others in the sands now... although he hadn't seen his little refugee for a while; even if the other had know idea he knew about him. His zinniths pricked forward in a sort of curiosity. He hadn't left the desert in a while, mostly due to the changing times of the wourld around him. The cold would have been a shock to his system. He snorted at his wandering mind and pawed impatiently at the dirt filled sand that covered this little patch of the vast desert. |
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Post by Crow'sia on Sept 25, 2007 19:27:25 GMT -5
MESMERIZE PSYCHRO
fear of the cold
Mes was in the middle of tearing apart yet another strange looking plant when she noticed the stallion come up by her side. His gait was slow and calculated, and he seemed to have been built for the sands, for where she would sink his steps were quiet and graceful. She made no move to rise to her feet though and busied herself licking a thorn from her nose. This was probably a most unintelligent decision.
His words were heavy upon her, and his amusement seemed to radiate in her face as much as the glaring sun. The mare turned to him slowly, with little consideration, but was prompt to answer feeling that he was a little on edge.
“I’ll be gone by tomorrow, I can assure you. There is nothing in this forsaken damn place,” she snarled, spitting the thorn. Mes turned her head to meet the animal’s gaze again, expectantly awaiting an answer. It did not even occur to her that this might be a leader, and that she had overlooked a herd at some point in her travels. No, this was certainly in her mind just another horse passing through.
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Post by moka on Sept 27, 2007 14:26:45 GMT -5
Fell Keeper Of The Desert Fell snorted at her comment as if in dicust, but then when he thought about it there really wasn't anything here. He shook his head. The temperature was gradually getting cooler as it always did at night, which was a relife from the sweltering sun. The air around them was thick with moisture, the mountains in the distance would probably be getting a heavy storm soon, and maybe, if it was lucky, the desert would get a small tast of moisture that the mountain ranges didn't pick up, for it was in the rain shadoe of the great rock formations. in a way this lightened his mood, for at least things would have a small chance of growing for a short pieriod of time before the sun dried it up again. That may be, at first glance. But there are things here. It's not the dry wastland that it takes the shape of all the timeHe voiced dryly. his optics watching the femmora spit a sthorn that had been stuck in her nose away, her gaze locked onto his as if challenging him to make a retorting reply... or so thats what he was thinking. He had a 'raised brow'/sarcastic expression on his face as he waited for a reply |
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Post by Crow'sia on Sept 29, 2007 12:02:04 GMT -5
MESMERIZE PSYCHRO
fear of the cold
Had she insulted him, was this actually his home? Whatever insane animal might live here. Mes shifted from the shade to climb cumbersomely to her knees and then feet. Soon enough she was standing and she turned to face the stallion again; her legs locked, she was still in the mood for simple relaxation. She considered his response. So apparently he did have some experience with this place, but her eyes found the desert rolling far beyond the oasis, and she stared past him in awe. He must have been exaggerating, unless some other oasis existed, and that was something she had not seen.
Even the weather was peculiar. The air was damp and heavy here, even the sun had only just started its decline and it had been unbearable earlier; although Mes found it pleasant. In some places she saw the great bugle of mountains- where she was considering traveling next- in the distance and in others it was nothing. Only when she peered into the oasis did she truly see life, and a small bit of life at that. Were there better food sources around?
He looked at her strangely, as if still amused. “Oh yes, and I guess it just magically transforms!” she drawled. It was ludicrous to think otherwise. Yet, clearly he was surviving here without limiting himself to this small area.
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Post by moka on Nov 4, 2007 20:22:16 GMT -5
Fell Fell considered his response, his mind wandering a little. She obviously thought he was crazy, but he didn't really care about that, for maybe he was for living in this place. His black pelt cooling as the sun descended, large frame's shadow fading into the darkness. He raised his head higher as he brought himself back to the conversation. Well, it takes a bit of imagination at times but it's not always a wasteland all the same. He voiced optics amused. He shifted on his limbs as they started to stiffen up. He was rather board, and if the statement the mare had said was true then he would want this conversation over with soon. His zinniths flicked inquiringly as the humid wind rush down from the mountains peaks. His optics wandered to the horizon as he half listened for a response, although he listened all the same. |
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Post by Crow'sia on Nov 11, 2007 21:51:20 GMT -5
MESMERIZE PSYCHRO
fear of the cold
She again took in his words briefly and spat them from her mind with such ferocity had she actually spat she might be choking. The sun’s decline served as her indicator now, and she glanced at it with a longing. Would the nights become unbearably cold, the winters here to rough to endure when the wind blew? Or so protected by the looming and distant giants? The warmth of sound and rush of water called to her; sang in her ears a much different pitch. The soothing shade of a tropical and far more than temperate tree.
“Maybe it’ll grow on me, but I doubt it.” Mes grinned uneasily. Her welcome she felt might have been wearing thin and the air simply multiplied this. It made her drowsy and stupid. Assuming she had not already hopped to her feet, she did now, and meandered through the odd plant and stamped her feet in the small pool of water that the sun reflected deep orange upon. Dipping her head she lapped at the liquid, and it ran in the shallows awkwardly warm down her throat. With a dripping mouth she turned her head in gesture. Making a peculiar and not at all horse-like barking sound she motioned to the sun. “I’ll see you maybe,” she said and with no more words or looks, hopped around the stallion and into the opening stretch of desert. Sand flying up in a great cloud behind her as she clumsily galloped across it.
OOC; O.o First time I’ve not really had muse in awhile. I figured to close, since I’ll be off to New York soon. Want to tie up loose posts. =D
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