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Feliks
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#1


Feliks
Like Mud-flaps on a Tortoise



He sighs at regular intervals, always catching his breath though he moves slowly in his hobbling gait. It’s as if his lungs occasionally empty and somehow forget to expand again until the rest of the body cries out for air! Coffee colored eyelids fall and refuse to reopen when blinking, the split second of darkness behind them being greedily taken advantage of by his sleep deprived mind, which lapses into blissful semi-consciousness almost instantly.

His head lowers as his systems falter and his nose bumps against the ground in front of him. His dragging hooves stumble, and he only barely and unattractively stops himself from crumpling forward, his heart racing suddenly as if to forcibly inject some life in the other organs attached to it, sneering, I never rest, what’s your problem?

There are many types of tired and the mud-colored stallion has felt his share of each, but this is something different, something outside the familiar confines of weariness or fatigue or exhaustion. It’s not like the intense pain and stiffness of strained muscles or the suffocating, dripping heat of overexertion. It’s more like a war of attrition, a slow and losing battle of endurance and determination.

It's a whole mind-body type of waning where every part of his very essence is thinned, drained, frayed. It’s been so long since he started out on this marathon that his body has all but surrendered to eternal movement, given up complaining to an unresponsive brain and silently accepted meeting death mid-step, almost relishing the thought of it just to finally be at rest, to finally be still.

Each time he staggers, blinking and squinting at the unfamiliar rock formations around him, he yawns, ears flopping lifelessly in either direction atop his head. “Ahh, shit.” He groans, shaking himself, almost giving in now to the hypnotic urge to fold his knees and let himself fall flat against the ground. He wants it so badly, but he should keep moving. His only advantage over the faster, more able horses behind is a stolen head start and how much longer he can maintain it than they. Stopping risks being overtaken and returned to the place he left, because he knows they’ll want him back and he’s sure they could convince him to stay if he listens, if he hears the dismay and the love in their voices.

Love is selfless, after all, but he won’t make them be. He refuses to burden those he gave so much to protect. What would be the point then? And why should they make sacrifices for a commitment they entered unwittingly? Better to burden a stranger, he thinks, to drag down a herd who knows from the start what an impractical addition he makes. At least then the sacrifices will feel – fair? No, but something nearer to it he wagers, he hopes.

 

"speech"











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Aletheia
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#2


I FEEL DIVINITY IN MY BONES LIKE ACHING; LIKE FIRE.

      It wasn't planned. There was no plan when Aletheia had left the little group of family that she had. She had known deep within her gut that there was something better out there, something that called to her, something that made her soul sing. Things that would edge her ever closer to the oncoming status of that of a god! There was a small churning in her gut that drew her to this place, a place of too tall plateaus and a sun whose loving kiss had long turned sour upon Aletheia's dark back. It was tempting to try to climb the steep slopes, to try and glimpse if she was coming or going and what exactly lies on the other side of this wasteland. She had tried once before when she had been first met with the expanse of stone, only to be hit with a shower of small stones upon her face and a few scratches upon her shoulder from the rough slide down. A small slight against her, but certainly not one that would deter the young creature from venturing further into the labyrinth of stone. It was worth noting that despite Aletheia's annoyance towards the canyon, she found wonder in the small hues of color that wove their ways through the layers of rock, mimicking small ribbons in their dance as they stretched on for miles, changing and colliding, all coming together to form some sort of grand beauty that the pegasus had yet to see in any of her travels.

 

     Such admiration would have continued as Aletheia picked her way through the winding landscape if a dark figure had not caught her eye. They stumbled and shambled along, tired and broken. The pegasus narrowed her eyes with slight concern and wariness at the distant stranger. There was a hitch in their gate, one that put a pang in her heart. It was not out of pity per say, but rather a sense of companionship. Another creature that was not exactly pristine was wandering this golden place, just as she was. Such thoughts of camaraderie came to a screeching halt as the stranger stumbled and let a quiet, barely audible curse slip from their lips, “Ahh, shit.” A small snort of amusement left Aletheia's nose as her rather concerned expression turned to one of childish interest and amusement, a small grin tugging upon her dark lips. Her once lazy walk soon shifted into a rather brisk jog as she tried to catch up to the stranger, both out of concern and curiosity. As her pace quickened slightly, her left wing fluttered out slightly, as if in an attempt to further right the dead weight that rested at her side. A welcoming "hello," slipped from her lips as she grew closer, the small smile on her face had soon faltered as she was able to truly take in the state of the stranger. From afar, they simply looked as though they were a weary passerby but upon further inspection, worry crawled over Aletheia's heart like a swarm of spiders. Long ago, the temple Aletheia had once called home had taken in the occasional traveler, often tired and worn down from their travels. The creature before her was certainly not the same as them. There was another sense of weariness that ate at their frame, once of age-old trials and tribulations. A weariness that could not be brought on by miles traveled alone.   





@Feliks
OOC - asdfghjkl I'm so out of practice, sorry ;v; 

 
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Feliks
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#3


Feliks
Like Mud-flaps on a Tortoise



Hoofbeats.

He stiffens, ears twisting backward to point in the direction of the sound, dread rising in his chest as the rhythmic trip-trop draws unmistakably nearer. His head tilts, only slowly turning to look behind, apprehension glazing his eyes with a mixture of defeat and embarrassment until a cordial ”hello,” breaks the tension of his silence and elicits an immediate, visible change in his demeanor.

He doesn’t know this voice.

Relief rushes through his system, washing away the heat of adrenaline in a flurry of involuntary self-soothing gestures. He exhales, realizing suddenly how dry his mouth is and runs his tongue across his lips to wet them, shuffling around his bad leg like a pivot point to face the winged mare and greet her openly, ears flicking forward as he does, all trace of alarm now drained from his features.

Smiling weakly around a clump of fraying braided forelock, he answers, his tone thin, but friendly, too weak to seem wholly cheerful but still pleasantly conversational. "Hello. Who are you?” His eyes roam over her face, her fiery auburn hair, her wings, glancing politely away when he notices how one is bound tightly to her side, not wanting to seem rude or insensitive without knowing her circumstances or state of mind, but hoping the injury is temporary, for her sake.

How much more bitterly must she long for mobility and freedom, he wonders. How trapped must she feel? He misses the use of his leg - of course - of galloping, leaping, cavorting with friends and brawling with enemies, but the world he's limited to now is the same world he paraded through then. He can reminisce, revisit, but her? How do you go from racing with eagles and storm clouds, viewing the world as only she and her kind can see it, to being utterly earthbound? Does she climb mountains in search of panoramic views, he wonders, brows furrowing very slightly at the thought.

"Do you live here?" He catches himself before more questions can slip into the space between them, flashing an apologetic grin. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude. I'm just passing through, but this canyon is enormous. It's a labyrinth in here and, well, I could do with a rest. If you know somewhere."

Having stopped his forward progress, he's not sure he can go on again, not without the promise of something being there besides loneliness and starvation. Despite what it may look like, what he may look like, he didn't come out here just to kill himself. "I'm Feliks, by the way."



"speech"
@Aletheia Don't apologize! That was lovely to read. ^.^











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Aletheia
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#4


I FEEL DIVINITY IN MY BONES LIKE ACHING; LIKE FIRE.

      Aletheia viewed the stranger contently, her ears flicked forward and her eyes slightly wide with curiosity. The creature before her was not one of glamorous beauty, nor did they carry an ethereal sense of grace. They were earthly, they were real. There was no sense of falsities emanating from the stallion, only a sense of genuine existence. Aletheia's gaze traced the creature's frame as they spoke, her eyes lingering upon the mess of braids that sprouted from the arch of their neck. 'tree roots' her brain had whispered as she looked briefly upon the dark chunks that wove their way through the stallion's mane, spilling onto his face in a way that only further cemented together her ideas that this creature before her and the earth were one and the same. Exceptionally mortal and real in one of the most beautiful ways one could be.

     It was with a confident, charming smile upon her lips that the pegasus had replied, "I go by Aletheia," There was a small moment of hesitation, a pause, before Aletheia had responded, a rather unusual tone of caution winding its threads through her words as they spilled from her lips, " I'm not quite familiar with this land myself quite yet," The hesitation soon fled as her voice continued, morphing into something more confident and playful, ringing through the air in a rather rejuvenating way,"I'm a traveler, similar to you, I assume. I've heard that despite the rather unpleasant landscape, there is some sort of civilization past this."  There was a harsher edge of determination that had latched onto Aletheia's words at the end of that phrase, as if there was a part of herself that was perhaps still unsure of those grand tales, a part of her that she desperately tried to stuff away, back into the dark depths from which it had ventured from. Awful creatures, those thoughts were.

 
     A small pause occupied Aletheia's mind once more as she glance at the stallion once more, taking note of his posture, the exhaustion that looked as though it were invisible weights upon his frame. It wasn't a heartbeat later that the creature before her muttered his own name.  Feliks. It was oddly fitting. Earthly in every way. Short, blunt, and rough. If someone had spoken such a name to Aletheia before she had met the one who stood before her, she had a good feeling that a similar appearance would flicker through her mind.

     A small 'hm' left her lips as she took a stride forward, words following as she moved, "I'm not too much of use at the moment with my wing being as it is - no scouting for me - but I would like to think that it would be fair of me to assume that you are someone who finds the sun to be rather unfavorable at the moment with that dark coat of yours." It was with a small huff that Aletheia paused on one side of Feliks, stretching out her left wing so that a dark shadow fell over him. It felt nice to stretch her wing after such a long walk, the slight breeze playing with the golden feathers that lined the underside of her wing.

     A small grin slipped upon her features as she entertained herself of the idea of providing for someone such as this. Like a proper god ought to! To provide for those who are fortunate enough to be graced with her presence! A golden gaze locked onto Feliks, waiting and watching for a reaction, gratitude, but also watching for the next move. If nothing else, Aletheia was someone who loved an audience. She had been wandering for a great deal of time without so much of a word tossed towards her. Now that there was a creature before her that has acknowledged her? That she may aid? Oh dear, what an opportunity! Certainly one that should not be lost. Aletheia was happy for the company and to have someone who may not find her to be a horrible creature. She certainly didn't read the stallion as someone who would be fawning over her in extreme adoration. She wasn't looking for that. She knew that wasn't something achievable out here in these wastes. Despite that, she certainly wasn't deterred from wishing that Feliks would be appreciative in some way, shape, or form. Surely, it shouldn't be asking much for people to view you as a god when you're basically already one, right? 

     
The small grin that had made a home on Aletheia's lips soon slipped away as such grand thoughts became muffled, a much smaller whisper taking its place as she looked upon Feliks. She couldn't help but think that he looked as though he was a creature that would smell of the earth along the forest floor after rainfall.



@Feliks
OOC - idk if this is considered a nice moment or not at this point lol

 
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Feliks
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#5


Feliks
Like Mud-flaps on a Tortoise



"Ah.” He mumbles, too exhausted to hide his disappointment and more than a little demoralized to learn that the winged mare can’t lead him straight to food and rest like he’d hoped. "I guess our only option is to keep walking then.” Resignation rings prominent in his voice, but there’s nothing else to do about it. Staying where they are accomplishes nothing, nor does complaining.

Glancing up at the sandstone walls, he sighs and lets his head hang low as he shuffles forward. "I don’t think it would be so unpleasant if it was familiar. The colors and patterns are pretty interesting. I never saw anything like it in my home, or,” He fumbles for the right words, discerning suddenly between the ideas of home as in where he resides and home as in his birthplace, both of which used to fall under the same term. "Where I came from.”

He might have let himself dwell on the idea, just this once while fatigue and disorientation undermine his optimism, but the shadow of the mares wing falling across his forequarters draws his attention up and away from his thoughts, a lifeline thrown and gratefully accepted. "Oh!” He perks slightly, scanning the overlapping layers of amber and gold above him, appearing almost to be made of the precious metal when silhouetted by the sun above. "You’re very kind, Aletheia. Thank you."

He answers her smile with his own, thin and pained, but no less genuine for the effort it takes to assemble. "I guess I do fluff up pretty early in the season. Winters were harsh where I grew up. Have you heard anything about the snow here? Or anything else about this place? I don't even know what it's called." A scoff escapes him, self-deprecating. How ridiculous for someone once so careful where borders and factions were concerned to go gallivanting into unknown places, unarmed and unequipped to deal with even the smallest adversity. He swallows down the thought that he may have effectively killed himself after all, had he not been fortunate enough to cross paths with another traveler, and then the more sinister thought that they haven't yet escaped the possibilities of starvation and dehydration.

Selfishly, he's glad for the company, whatever the outcome.

In truth, he's not at all accustomed to being alone, and that almost as much as the hunger and exhaustion has worn on him. He finds himself glancing repeatedly in her direction, reassuring himself in the sight and the smell of her, and prompting her to speak whenever silences fall. He tries to wrap himself in her presence, going so far as endeavoring to match his step to hers, head bobbing lamely every time his ruined leg bears weight.




"speech"
@Aletheia











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