home is behind the world ahead
there are many paths to tread
Long white and pink tail tossed lazily back and forth behind Weir as she made her way towards the creek known as Amare Creek. The moist soil was forgiving under her pale and pinkish hooves, clinging to her almost translucent tips of her hooves. The color striking against the lush green foliage of ferns and low laying ground-cover flowers, clovers, and wild grasses. She trotted peacefully and calmly through the brush to where the slow-moving waters flowed. She could see the water through the birch and cedar trees. The water reflecting the sunrise on the water’s surface. The surface is smooth since the creek is flat and wide. This part of the creek is not very steep so there are no rapids. Small circles would appear occasionally and rippled out until they disappeared. She couldn’t see the bugs that made them but she could see the mouths of the fish as they would jump to try and catch the bugs.
Her hips effortlessly carried her whole body to the edge of the water, where she sauntered to a halt. Long, loose, and braided hair swayed forward and then returned to its usual resting place randomly around her face and down both sides of her neck. She is here because of the beautiful golden water in front of her and the possibility of finding the relic everyone is thinking about. This time she thought about searching the stream bed since it was calm, shallow, and easy to see through the water. She lowered her head and sipped the cool, crisp water until her lips felt chilled. Next she stepped into the water with her nose above the surface of the water and looked at the rocks below the surface. Occasionally she would turn over a rock here or there and see what is underneath. She hoped maybe the next one covered something lost, shiny, and of value to her.
The witch is unaware of her own intrusion. How is she to blame? No lines have been drawn in the iridescent green grass on either side of the grumbling creek; there are no borders here to tell the hag where and when not to trod through the faintly fragrant flowers. She is merely curious, and like an empty and aching belly she must satiate her curiosity swiftly before relenting to worse repercussions. The vixen's gaze reflects the same soft blue of the sky today, but she pays little attention to the cloudless atmosphere. The beauty of the realm before her has entranced the witch, and she finds herself drawn towards one foreign plant to the next as she tries to study them all. Some of the species are recognisable for the witch has endured many years as a subject to their potent qualities: yarrow, to cure ailments of the belly; mint, a poultice of which that can ease a headache; and even the beautiful black berries known for their toxicity seen close to the perimeter of the forest: nightshade. It is her lack of knowledge regarding the regional flora that unsettles her the most. How is she to carry on concocting potions if she knows nothing of the local plants? Black lips clench tightly at the thought.
We will need to correct this, and swiftly.
Leaving the flowers alone for the time being, the star-strewn girl redirects her attention to the creek. She stops her approach immediately, and although her head is held low in relaxed posture her ears stands tall and erect: someone else is here. Her eyes watch the maiden as she lowers her head to drink.
Horns. The people here have not only wings, but protrusions from their head as well. It is another new concept for the girl who only knows of a world of sorcery, not genetic diversity. I will have to watch this one as well.
She watches as the alabaster and rose maiden wades into the water, noting the height at which the gentle rapids rise on her bodice. The stranger was yet another behemoth, and the black hag was beginning to think herself as less of a witch and more a dwarf. Her tail lashes against her hocks as she remembers the winged boy she met in her swamp.And where are you now, little soldier? Looking for your lost relic?
Her eyes narrow in suspicion at the sight of the dame, who no longer appears to just be bathing. Is that what you are looking for?
Leaping forward to transition into a smooth trot, the black makes her way to the creek bank and stops just shy of the water. A crisp gust of wind tousles her ivory locks as she greets the horned lady.
"Are you in need of assistance? You appear to have lost something."
home is behind the world ahead
there are many paths to tread
As weir slowly stepped across the serene and calm stream, she slowly turned over rocks here and there. Old dirt and decayed remains of leaves, mosses, and other residue that has fallen to the bed of the creek was stirred up again and again every time she moved too fast. The small clouds would swirl for a few moments before the light current and its own weight took it further down the stream and cleared the water in front of where Weir was looking. At one point the focus in her eyes changed and she was looking at her own reflection. It surprised her, how different she looks. Something inside of her naturally accepted the physical changes in her body, it never seemed to affect her mentally. It just was accepted. Seeing herself in a reflection was very different. Her long face with the stripes across her nose. The massive caribou horns that resembled the deer like creatures from her northern birthplace. The necklace that her adopted mother made for her when she was a child now hung in the spikes of her right antler. The 6 red leaves to symbolize her 5 half siblings and herself. Her eyes were her usual pink shades but the necklace was a bright vibrant striking red.
Before she could examine herself further, a spoke shattered the pure serenity of the moment. Weir popped her head up so fast she worried she would pull a muscle. Her ears helped in directing her face to stare right at the starry stranger. Weir started for a moment stunned. Her eyes adjusting to try and find all the details of the mare in the early morning light that liked to play tricks with the light. Oh you scared me! I hope you realize that! She shook her head, red leaves clinking into one another lightly. She took one breath in to recollect herself. No, no need of assistance. I haven’t lost anything. Since you asked though, I am trying to find something that may have been lost by someone else. There is talk of a great relic that is somewhere, hidden. It beats me on where it is, what it looks like, or if it's even real. I like treasure hunts though so I figured I’d give it a shot. I like to create things anyways and have been collecting things from my adventures.
Weir reached over to where her mane crossed over her shoulder and using her lips she dug through her hair lightly and pulled out a bone, a small neon green feather, and a long stem with flowers of the nodding ladies tresses on it. Weir showed them to the ivory hair stranger before placing the items back into her mane where she was hiding them. Have you found the relic? Do you know why it is so special? I know it is supposed to belong to someone extremely important like a king of the universe type of thing I think. Innocently she smiled. She is young and did not grow up religious so much of the gods are new ideals to her. She was raised loving the earth more than trying to worship the sky.
@Yana - OMG I am so happy Weir is meeting Yana! Yana is so pretty!
He had been to the creek before - many times, in fact, and yet the serenity of the place never failed to inspire him. This was a place untouched by courtly politics and whispers, standing outside of the other realms, as independent and ancient as the slow burble of the creeks path. It was perhaps not one of the wildest territories, nor the most awe-inspiring - but it called to his blood as much as the heat of the sun or the whisper of the stars, it's passionate history as labyrinthine as Denocte's - if not more so. How many lovers had come before him? How many secret loves had it seen? How many great ones? The thought brought the slightest of smiles to his velveteen lips as he picked his way upstream toward the sound of voices.
He hadn't initially planned to seek them out - those feminine, cool voices, but he was a curious man, and one that rarely turned down company. So he paused at the creeks bend and peered through long lashed eyes at the pair conversing within the delicate embrace of the creek, a smile hooking his lips at how paradoxical they looked together. The first looked positively angelic. Her skin was made of delicate porcelain tipped by the softest pink, with lips that looked as if they would taste sweet and subtle and hair that slipped to the earth in waves of alabaster silk - and she was as tall as he, although more slender and feminine. The second was the night sky turned woman, with star-spun skin and the milky way of her hair cascading in the lightest waves, though it was her eyes that Reich could not help but to lose himself in. He could have been stranded upon the ocean shore with a tempest, not staring at her long lashed eyes. They were storm-ridden, sharp, dangerous.
Paradoxical indeed.
Silence fell between them like a heavy blanket and the Night Court warrior stepped into the midst of that silence, ebony curls bouncing and a jovial grin upon his handsome, rough hewn face.
"I believe it is a relic of Tempus, the original creator of our world."
His voice was a warm breeze, low and lyrical, humoured but sincere. He grinned, offering;
"I am Reichenbach, a warrior of the Night Court." There was a small pause, then he added "Apologies for the interruption. I am also seeking the relic, though not for my own gain."
In truth, he sought the relic mostly to keep it from hands that might use it for unsavoury purposes - no good could come of a relic that was once held by the original creator, at least no good that could not be corrupted. Reichenbach had made no plans of what to do with the relic if he did find it, perhaps cast it into the sea or bury it under stone for another millennia. The fact that the Courts were all in a state of limbo with their Sovereigns had made the world of Novus ambitious, chaotic... power hungry. If he were not to find the relic, Reich hoped it did not fall into the hands of someone that would use it against the fragile peace the hung so precariously around them.
The subtle clink of metal on metal draws the witch's gaze to the horned girl's trinket. She was too far away to make out much detail, but it was definitely some sort of chain. Interesting. Her horns are useful for holding things. The striped lady soon speaks again, and the little witch abandons her thoughts regarding the necklace to focus on their conversation. She talks a lot. This is good.Not known to talk much herself, Yana prefers to shun social interaction rather than seek it out. Information is easier to give away than it is to attain, however, and the starry mare has nothing to tell at the present; listening to the talkative girl will prove to be more of a blessing than anything else.
An unknown voice startles the hag into a bout of coughing. Speaking of surprises... Who is this? His tone is rich and welcoming, but his words... Something about them raises her suspicions. If not for your gain, then for whose?
When she is finally able to breathe again, she returns the stranger's greeting. "Yana." In case you missed that part whilst you were eavesdropping. The witch keeps her identity simple: she knows little of the courts that inhabit these lands, and does not wish to align herself with one just yet. "No apologies are necessary. We have gathered together here for a reason, surely. The three of us seek a relic, be it for Tempus, some other God, or otherwise."
Her gaze slips from the amiable expression in his eyes to the star between them, but only for a second: soon it is travelling down the slope of his nose to the smile perched on his lips. What is it you find amusing, warrior? Do you know something we do not? The fiery man is as much a stranger to her as Weir, and yet he seems to know the most about the land and the realms residing within them. It seems as if she must try to learn more about the surrounding country as well as the relic, especially if the starry mare is keen on keeping her swamp.
"I've heard little of this relic. A... companion was seeking it." She is unsure of what to refer to Damascus as. Is he her friend? Will she meet him again? White hairs go flying when the hag shakes her head with a cough. "But I've heard even less of the realms. Your Night Court- are we trespassing on their lands?"
home is behind the world ahead
there are many paths to tread
The evenings finger crept across her skin beneath her hair in cool waves as if to try and message her muscles. Bugs twirled and darted across the surface of the water and creating ripples across the surface in the reflections of the trees. It was relaxing but weir always has her guard up in a place she knows little about still. There are mysteries in every corner of this land peering around every stone, leaf, and shadow. There feels like there is a force here that vibrates the land and controls forces beyond Weir’s imagination.
Before Yana had a chance to respond there came the sound of movement from around a bend in the river. Weir might have been more frightened if she wasn’t already in the company of a possible ally, that is if Yana flight alongside Weir if need be. Obviously, this handsome stranger was listening in on their conversation for he provided valuable information with the first warm passage of air from his tongue. His voice matched perfectly with the trinkets that wove around his body and his leg. She already liked the look of this one. He reminded her of the dark-skinned travelers of her village that would bring the most amazing items to trade and were her favorites of the traveling traders.
She glanced away from the stallion to the mare as she had a bout of coughing. How strange. She looked back to the male for he appeared to pose the highest risk but who is more dangerous than the next. Each one of us can harm in any numerous way. He does seem awfully full of himself but he is so beautiful, weir could hardly hold it against him. I am weir. I am from the dusk court. Is the night court across the terminus sea? I have heard about this place. You may know of him, he is a warrior of your court, a very capable one from what I have heard.
She didn’t mean to take over the conversation and direct it only to the chocolate gypsy and so she decided to speak again to the starry skinned female. I can show you around if you would like. Her next words were directed to both of them. I am a caretaker of the Dusk Court, located on the other side of the terminus sea and past the Tinea Swamp. Yana, you might like it there.
@Yana @Reichenbach
Trying to wrap this up so we can count it towards completed threads. :)
![[Image: 118oync.jpg]](http://i67.tinypic.com/118oync.jpg)
