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+----- Thread: come to me clear and cold on some sea (/showthread.php?tid=4362)
come to me clear and cold on some sea - Septimus - 12-07-2019
TO TRAVEL ON AND TRAVEL LIGHT
to travel deep into the night
Night has fallen, and the cold is almost unbearable.
Septimus trudges through a particularly thick snow bank, his lips curled downward, into an expression that borders on pain; the chill wraps itself around his legs and into his bones and makes his teeth chatter so furiously that the tightness it creates in his jaw threatens to bloom into a pounding headache. His wings are pulled in tight at his side, and, though they hang heavy with a kind of perpetual tiredness that he seems to feel all the time nowadays, he is grateful for their presence, which is almost like a cape about his shoulders. They provide some degree of warmth, though not much. It isn’t as though there isn’t still skin beneath those feathers.
He would have covered more ground if he flew, and it is a particularly clear and starry night, with the full moon high in the sky; however, that would only make him colder, so, although Septimus is anxious to find somewhere to hide from the cold, he remains on the ground, trotting restlessly between the trees. He tries to keep a steady pace – he’ll be warmer if he stays moving, and he stays moving quickly. (Just not quickly enough to break a sweat, which is possible, in spite of the weather.) His satchel is tucked neatly under one wing, shielding his notebooks and quills from the cold; he can only hope that his body heat will be enough to keep the ink pots from freezing over, but he doesn’t feel especially hopeful about it. He might have to resort to the charcoal, which smudges something horrible, or some of the lead…which is better than the charcoal, at least.
He is shaken from his thoughts by a burst of light.
It seems to flicker into existence just a few feet away from Septimus; he freezes, his hooves kicking up snow from the sudden movement, and stares. The light bobs, and the gestures seems almost welcoming. When it drifts further into the trees, which seem to be growing denser and denser (and greener and greener; once he passed by dead deciduous tree after dead deciduous tree, he began to discover some firs, and he wonders if they won’t be even more populous deeper in the woods) the further he walks into the forest, it moves slowly.
Mortality has not yet taught him caution. Septimus, shaking himself from his trance, follows.
He does not know how long he walks, following the light. It could be minutes. It could be hours. Time does not feel the same here; it is too fluid. However long it takes, he feels as though he crosses a threshold – and suddenly there are hundreds of lights and a grove amidst the conifers, with a frozen, shallow pool in the center. He can see little beings at the center of the orbs of light, ever-shifting, never the same creature for long; more and more appear from the woods, like a hundred thousand fireflies blinking in unison. Dazzled, Septimus moves towards the center of the grove, pacing out onto the ice. (If this island were not so different, he could almost imagine it was the pool with that strange fish he encountered last time.) He looks at these shifting creatures, and he forgets that he is cold. He feels them, and he almost, almost forgets that he is mortal.
He stands amidst the swarm of little lights, his eyes bright and wide, and he doesn’t ever want to leave.
@Vaeri || <3
"Speech!"
to travel deep into the night
Night has fallen, and the cold is almost unbearable.
Septimus trudges through a particularly thick snow bank, his lips curled downward, into an expression that borders on pain; the chill wraps itself around his legs and into his bones and makes his teeth chatter so furiously that the tightness it creates in his jaw threatens to bloom into a pounding headache. His wings are pulled in tight at his side, and, though they hang heavy with a kind of perpetual tiredness that he seems to feel all the time nowadays, he is grateful for their presence, which is almost like a cape about his shoulders. They provide some degree of warmth, though not much. It isn’t as though there isn’t still skin beneath those feathers.
He would have covered more ground if he flew, and it is a particularly clear and starry night, with the full moon high in the sky; however, that would only make him colder, so, although Septimus is anxious to find somewhere to hide from the cold, he remains on the ground, trotting restlessly between the trees. He tries to keep a steady pace – he’ll be warmer if he stays moving, and he stays moving quickly. (Just not quickly enough to break a sweat, which is possible, in spite of the weather.) His satchel is tucked neatly under one wing, shielding his notebooks and quills from the cold; he can only hope that his body heat will be enough to keep the ink pots from freezing over, but he doesn’t feel especially hopeful about it. He might have to resort to the charcoal, which smudges something horrible, or some of the lead…which is better than the charcoal, at least.
He is shaken from his thoughts by a burst of light.
It seems to flicker into existence just a few feet away from Septimus; he freezes, his hooves kicking up snow from the sudden movement, and stares. The light bobs, and the gestures seems almost welcoming. When it drifts further into the trees, which seem to be growing denser and denser (and greener and greener; once he passed by dead deciduous tree after dead deciduous tree, he began to discover some firs, and he wonders if they won’t be even more populous deeper in the woods) the further he walks into the forest, it moves slowly.
Mortality has not yet taught him caution. Septimus, shaking himself from his trance, follows.
He does not know how long he walks, following the light. It could be minutes. It could be hours. Time does not feel the same here; it is too fluid. However long it takes, he feels as though he crosses a threshold – and suddenly there are hundreds of lights and a grove amidst the conifers, with a frozen, shallow pool in the center. He can see little beings at the center of the orbs of light, ever-shifting, never the same creature for long; more and more appear from the woods, like a hundred thousand fireflies blinking in unison. Dazzled, Septimus moves towards the center of the grove, pacing out onto the ice. (If this island were not so different, he could almost imagine it was the pool with that strange fish he encountered last time.) He looks at these shifting creatures, and he forgets that he is cold. He feels them, and he almost, almost forgets that he is mortal.
He stands amidst the swarm of little lights, his eyes bright and wide, and he doesn’t ever want to leave.
@Vaeri || <3
"Speech!"
RE: come to me clear and cold on some sea - Vaeri - 12-15-2019
as the moon ascends ,
the wolves come out to see the end
the wolves come out to see the end
The full moon hangs high, its light illuminating Novus and making everything more beautiful than ever. This time of the month is when Vaeri feels the most alive. The floating moon in the center of her antlers mirrors the moon above and her coat shimmers like the stars in the night sky. Her magic is the strongest on these nights, although she still has a long way before she's mastered it.
There is no way she's sleeping, not with the moonlight's power coursing through her and still so many places to explore. Denocte as a whole has been kind to her, especially the market streets and their many unique finds. Her pack had been heavy with goods from her last trip. Tonight, she feels the urge to stray farther. It seems to be time as she's technically grown up in Denocte. While she only lived in the mountains most of her life, she feels like she's known these lands as a whole this entire time with how much she could see from up there. No, she wanted to see something new, something exciting. After rumors spread of the island rising up from the sea again, she knew it would be the perfect place to mark a new adventure.
So on she went.
It proved to be no easy trek having to find the bridge she was told about and making her way fully across. It's one of the times she wishes she had wings to carry her across lands more easily. Either way, she's made it safely to the shore and once again she is filled with a childlike happiness and wonder. The island is not like any island one would expect. It's a winter wonderland with snow-covered forests and rolling white hills. The shore is a mix of sand and snow under her hooves and she trots onward, finding amusement in the hoofprints she leaves in the ground.
Out of the corner of her eye, there is a floating orb of light. Vaeri immediately follows it with curious eyes. Her pace slows as she comes up to it and realizes that it's some kind of magical creature. A fairy, perhaps? It does not linger in front of her long and instead flitters forward, then stops, looking back at her. Apparently, it wants her to follow. She does not hesitate.
She follows the fairy through the trees, a breeze blowing through and causing the cold to seep through her. Somehow, it feels colder here than back home. Still, she is determined to see what the fairy has to show her and tries to ignore the bitter cold. It will all be worth it soon.
And she is right. The creature leads her to a grove where more of them float. It's like a thousand fireflies in a field, but they are bigger and more brilliant. She also notices that she's not alone here and there is a man a few lengths ahead. Like her he wears a bag, but his seems more purposeful with its multiple pockets and larger size. On his back are a pair of magnificent wings and she is partially envious of this. He is looking at the fairies in the same sort of awe as she. Vaeri smiles wide as she approaches him, the shimmer in her coat even more pronounced with the fairies' light.
"This place is absolutely breathtaking, isn't it?" she asks, hoping he feels the same way. He's not hard on the eyes, but a stranger to her. It was to be expected that she would meet new horses outside of Denocte and she certainly doesn't mind.
"I'm Vaeri, but you can call me Vae," she says, leaning in just close enough to be able to toy with a section of his mane. A quick tease and she steps back, tilting her head. "Do you know much of this island?" Maybe he could tell her a story of the land and all its wonders.
@
RE: come to me clear and cold on some sea - Septimus - 12-18-2019
TO TRAVEL ON AND TRAVEL LIGHT
to travel deep into the night
He has not been standing amidst the glowing lights for so long when he becomes aware of the sound of hooves crunching against dry snow, the particular rhythm that suggests the approach of someone else. He doesn’t tear his eyes away from the scene before him until he is absolutely sure that the stranger is coming close, however – very close, and even then his turn is slow, as though he hesitates to tear his eyes away from the dancing lights and the full moon in the sky above. (Some part of him worries that the creatures will disappear as quickly as they came, that if he lets himself look away, they will leave him in the dark. It would be very like his family to pull that kind of trick and leave you wondering if you had ever seen them dancing in the dark of the woods at all.) He shifts, shaking the snow from his wings, and he glances in the direction of the sound. The moonlight is to his back. It almost feels regrettable, but he tells himself that whoever is emerging from the woods might be worth the glance.
It is easy to spot the emerging figure, if only because of the glow emanating from between her antlers. She is, Septimus quickly discerns, fascinating – certainly fascinating enough to warrant momentary distraction.
Her coat gleams like the night sky, the star-like markings and glossy sheen accentuated by the dancing lights; she is a patchwork of blues, deepest navy with stripes of something paler and more ghostly with just enough white – on her legs and her face – to make her interesting. Her form is graceful and lithe, with eyes that seem to shift with the light like precious stones, and her antlers are as impressive as his own, but with one more detail. It is that he finds the most striking, the full moon suspended between her monochromatic antlers; it gives off a healthy glow all its own, and, when he looks at it closely, in spite of its brightness, he realizes that it seems to have a patchwork of craters, just like the real moon. Fascinating. He’ll have to ask her what kind of magic created such an elaborate illusion. He wonders if he can reach out and touch it.
She approaches him, quick and close. He doesn’t stop her. This place is absolutely breathtaking, isn’t it? He couldn’t agree more.
“It’s stunning,” he agrees, though something in her tone – or her posture, perhaps – makes him wonder if he should add and so are you, because it seems like she would want to hear it. She leans forward, and, though he does not turn to watch her do it, he feels her toy with his mane; he suppresses a shiver at the contact, the sudden warm against cold, turning his head instead to gaze at her with amused, amused green eyes.
She’s quite young, he decides, and quite sure of herself. It is not a terrible thing to be; caution is as much a hamper as it is a blessing, and, though he was eternally youthful because of his magic, it did not stop him from aging in awareness. Vaeri, she introduces herself, but you can call me Vae. She asks him what he knows of the island.
“Vae,” he repeats, a smile growing across his lips. It is not quite broad enough to show his teeth. “I’m Septimus. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” At his question, he appears to think for a minute, then says, “I only know a bit – it is a very strange place, too strange to make sense of. Did you come here the first time that it rose up from the sea?” He tilts his head at her, the jewels on his antlers clinking rhythmically with the movement; her answer will inform his answer, he thinks.
@Vaeri || <3
"Speech!"
to travel deep into the night
He has not been standing amidst the glowing lights for so long when he becomes aware of the sound of hooves crunching against dry snow, the particular rhythm that suggests the approach of someone else. He doesn’t tear his eyes away from the scene before him until he is absolutely sure that the stranger is coming close, however – very close, and even then his turn is slow, as though he hesitates to tear his eyes away from the dancing lights and the full moon in the sky above. (Some part of him worries that the creatures will disappear as quickly as they came, that if he lets himself look away, they will leave him in the dark. It would be very like his family to pull that kind of trick and leave you wondering if you had ever seen them dancing in the dark of the woods at all.) He shifts, shaking the snow from his wings, and he glances in the direction of the sound. The moonlight is to his back. It almost feels regrettable, but he tells himself that whoever is emerging from the woods might be worth the glance.
It is easy to spot the emerging figure, if only because of the glow emanating from between her antlers. She is, Septimus quickly discerns, fascinating – certainly fascinating enough to warrant momentary distraction.
Her coat gleams like the night sky, the star-like markings and glossy sheen accentuated by the dancing lights; she is a patchwork of blues, deepest navy with stripes of something paler and more ghostly with just enough white – on her legs and her face – to make her interesting. Her form is graceful and lithe, with eyes that seem to shift with the light like precious stones, and her antlers are as impressive as his own, but with one more detail. It is that he finds the most striking, the full moon suspended between her monochromatic antlers; it gives off a healthy glow all its own, and, when he looks at it closely, in spite of its brightness, he realizes that it seems to have a patchwork of craters, just like the real moon. Fascinating. He’ll have to ask her what kind of magic created such an elaborate illusion. He wonders if he can reach out and touch it.
She approaches him, quick and close. He doesn’t stop her. This place is absolutely breathtaking, isn’t it? He couldn’t agree more.
“It’s stunning,” he agrees, though something in her tone – or her posture, perhaps – makes him wonder if he should add and so are you, because it seems like she would want to hear it. She leans forward, and, though he does not turn to watch her do it, he feels her toy with his mane; he suppresses a shiver at the contact, the sudden warm against cold, turning his head instead to gaze at her with amused, amused green eyes.
She’s quite young, he decides, and quite sure of herself. It is not a terrible thing to be; caution is as much a hamper as it is a blessing, and, though he was eternally youthful because of his magic, it did not stop him from aging in awareness. Vaeri, she introduces herself, but you can call me Vae. She asks him what he knows of the island.
“Vae,” he repeats, a smile growing across his lips. It is not quite broad enough to show his teeth. “I’m Septimus. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” At his question, he appears to think for a minute, then says, “I only know a bit – it is a very strange place, too strange to make sense of. Did you come here the first time that it rose up from the sea?” He tilts his head at her, the jewels on his antlers clinking rhythmically with the movement; her answer will inform his answer, he thinks.
@Vaeri || <3
"Speech!"
RE: come to me clear and cold on some sea - Vaeri - 12-26-2019
as the moon ascends ,
the wolves come out to see the end
the wolves come out to see the end
He agrees that the island is stunning, but it's his eyes that Vae becomes fixated on. They are a brilliant color, like two bright emeralds, and are a stark contrast to the chestnut color of his coat. The moonlight only seems to make their color more apparent as he looks at her and she finds them beautiful.
The man introduces himself as Septimus and it's a lovely, unique name indeed. As he speaks, she realizes he has jewels dangling from his antlers. It's only another fascinating quality to this man, although she begins to have a strong desire to snag one of them off to keep for herself. Unfortunately, their placement would make that a very difficult task, so she might have to forgo it this time.
It sounds like he knows some things about the island and he asks if she had been here when it first appeared. At this, Vae frowns since it had still been during the time she was stuck in the mountains with her family. Many stories trickled their way in at least, but it was just one of the many things she missed out on.
"Sadly no," she answers, looking back up at the floating light fairies. No matter what the island had been like before, she's glad she's here now and able to experience it. "I heard a lot of rumors though- of the seasons changing before your eyes, birds who sang like they had metal in their throats and a sought-after magical relic." A smile returns and she looks at Septimus eagerly. The rumors were just rumors and nothing like seeing the real thing. She wonders what sort of stories he held in his mind from his own experiences.
"What do you know of it and its magic?" she then asks, hoping she can pick his brain. At the same time, another fairy flutters over and plays with Vae's mane. It tickles, but the mare doesn't mind too much. She turns to eye the creature mischievously and then blows air at them. It throws them off balance, but they seem to laugh in response. The girl almost wishes she could take one of them with her back home, but it would be too cruel to keep it from its homeland (unless it wanted to leave, but that may be impossible to know for sure). For now, she will play with them and make friends with them while they listen to stories from the man with the brilliant emerald gaze.
@