The Susurro Fields, when slumbering under a white blanket of snow, appears formless under grey overcast. The horizon is hard to discern, as it melts with the sky. The world becomes an ivory bubble, encapsulating those who tread its wide expanse. The brush of wind escaping the coast, the hard earth under hoof and the hidden lumps casting soft shadow breaks the illusion. If only for a moment.
 
Noëlle stands at its precipice. Bundled by the thick, indigo wool scarf wrapped about her neck. Pressing a silver necklace, attached to the white half-horn, close to her chest. At times it throbs, too close to the skin – but she imagines it beats with her, pulsing in faint memory. The fields spike a feeling of excitement in her flesh, a jolt of electricity that promptly propels her forward. Running headstrong into the wide berth, and trailing hot air from parted lips.
 
She looses all thought, digging deep into the sensations that begin to flare in the heat of the sprint. Limbs begin to burn with want to rest, and lungs threaten to lose their mechanical rhythm – for heaves and gasping. By then she’s already deep within the fields themselves. Swallowed whole by the illusion of monochrome and off-whites. She pulls back as exhaustion creeps, shifting into a walk with a heavy, bated breath. The heat rolls off her body, and follows along like a flag in the mild wind. She enjoys the coolness surrounding her, revels in its sharp bite and tender embrace. A wayward smile holds carelessly against Noëlle’s lips.
 
Besides the thrill and simplicities of the challenge, her eyes glittered in sapphire as they scanned the lands. In search of striking blood reds, and obscene orange colored berries taking shelter under snow. Perhaps – a juniper found its roots in the earth, offering hues of deep blue. She finally had a plan for herself, a sustainable business that would take quite some time to cultivate. The young fae licked her lips, and eyed the formless gray above with a narrow gaze. Only briefly, casting her demands on the forces commanding the skies. “A few hours,” she mumbled to them. “And that means three at the least!”

It would snow, again, perhaps sooner than expected. If it did, if it covered the earth again and blanketed the air as well – she would surely be trapped by its fury. Any effort to seek and find, that which held value to her, would prove futile. At least, she could look forward to its cautionary beauty.

ooc// for @Aeranas =)

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RE: feel the wind rise - Aeranas - 01-07-2020

We'll leave this empty room, into the air we'll climb

The ghost found himself back in Terrastella once more. He found that he loved the landscape so dearly that he could not stay away for very long. It provided him the source of inspiration he needed to plan his first night of entertaining in the Dawn Court. He wanted to collect stories of wonder that could be found right here in Novus, no matter how beautiful he knew the rest of the world was. There was always something comforting in rediscovering the beauty of your homeland. Aeranas pressed himself onward through the fields that had led him to Terrastella once before. It is in these fields he saw a pale equine breezing through them at a high speed. Aeranas stopped to watch them run, he seemed to be unnoticed for now. That was how the ghost liked to be most of the time, an observer. Aeranas laughed slightly at that thought and the thought that he was comparable to a phantom. His long, limber form swayed gently with their movements. It was as if his body wanted to race and join them as if he could feel the same burn in his lungs that this stranger surely felt. Aeranas studied her when she cast her gaze to the sky, taking but a few moments to focus on something other than this hunt. A hunt that the ghost could only guess about until he spoke. The words that drifted from the stranger sounded feminine, her voice carried into the sky with an indiscernible emotion. It sounded as though she wished for more time for something.

Aeranas took this as an opportunity to approach her, a gentle smile was carved onto his marble face. His antlers had been covered in frost, as the sea between Delumine and Terrastella had left a thin dusting of sea spray on them. He had surged into colder terrains after the sea had kissed his antlers. Aeranas admired the stranger, she too was muted against the landscape. She looked more like the sky than the snow. Gentle grays were splattered with ash and snow in an elegant way. Her daggers, when he caught sight of them, were split in the middle. Cloven. His gaze quickly swept from her gently sloped face to the three horns that emerged, each one painted with the finest ivory. Upon her nape was a scarf that was dipped in rich indigo. Aeranas felt his heart ache with a fondness he could not explain. No, he could explain it, but he chose not to. She was gentle in the frigid snow, and she was fierce. Her determination for whatever it is she was doing had caught the admiration of Aeranas. A ghost who held only stories, and haunted no one but himself. "Does the sky challenge you to a race? It might be hard to accept a challenge without the ability to kiss the sky." Aerie joked to the woman lightly, but he did so in good nature.

The ghost was feeling less poetic today than he usually did, but perhaps that would come to him in time. He had already fallen in love with her aesthetic against the barren, white landscape of Terrastella. Perhaps he would fall in love with all of the details that constructed her into who she was. Aerie smiled at the thought, for there was no doubt in his mind that this would be the case. It was always the case. He always fell in love with the small details and shared the joys of others.  "Tell me, what is it that the tricorn hunts? What has the blankets, the sky has so lovingly covered us with, hidden from you?"
 

"Speech" Thoughts

@Noëlle | Ahh I hope this is alright! <3 | 612 Words

Crisp footfalls lend to the presence of another. Noëlle twists her focus upon the stallion, at first glance nearly washed into the backdrop. A specter gaining form, and peeling away from ivory walls. Noëlle’s eyes brighten, holding true to the hue of soft rose-petal orbs shining back. Absorbing her attention more than necessary. Broken by the creature’s lyrical tone, and the line that he casts upon her.

It is as he jests that she can take in the subtle elegance of his form. Of long sloping structures, and supple angles. Her lips curl into a grin, and her voice releases an off-handed laugh. “If the sky must prove it’s dominance over me, it has no choice but to grant me wings! It’s the only way to guarantee a fair fight.” There is an air of playfulness, a mock stubborn tongue in reply.

A crown of antlers sits proudly upon his head, glittering with a thin sheen of ice. He is followed and trailed by cerulean fabric, having the effect of mist that trails and ebbs behind, upon and below. There is a desire to inquire of its origins. The make of the thread, the source for the way it sits like air beside him. The stranger reminds her of the mythical, of woodland fae, a vision of ice harboring warmth from his gaze.

“I’m afraid I search for the simplest of things, on this fine winter day. Much of the plant life hibernates, but there are champions who thrive in this frigid land...” She shies away from speaking it aloud. Her pause is warranted with a subdued giggle, shifting her body towards the fields ahead and staring out in the landscape. “Berries. Oh – but not the kind you would want to eat. Well, some perhaps… but most of them are poisonous this time of year. Blackthorn, rowan, dog rose… juniper perhaps.” Her focus turns inwards, as she purses her lips in contemplation. She finally turns on her heels, and wears a frank, curious expression. Perhaps in the very form of an innocent child, seeking worldly questions – of the heavens and the stars – where and how the world came to be from the wisdom of an adult. Accompanied by the very same naivety; placing good will on strangers. “Have you encountered any of them on your way?”

It is more likely that her expression is one of hopeful curiosity. To have lived this long, Noëlle knew better than to outright trust. But she yearned for company, and the prospect was very rarely thrown aside. Especially with the menial work ahead, a companion would be a refreshing pace.