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[AW] A Little Geography Never Hurt Anyone - Printable Version

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A Little Geography Never Hurt Anyone - Somnus - 08-08-2017


S O M N U S

"What if I fall?"
"Oh, but my darling, what if you fly?"



He makes a mighty 'oomph!' as he lands, two cream-kissed hooves digging into the brittle, yellow overgrown grasses for purchase as he comes to a sharp halt in the middle of what appeared to be a vast flatland in full summer’s bloom. The golden tactician lands elegantly and with noticeable poise, muscled haunches tucking beneath a toned rump as magnificent amber wings coil and close, tucking themselves soundly against shuddering, breathless sides of pale flaxen. Sweat mars his hide in an unsatisfactory way, beading and perspiring beneath the cruel heat of the summer sun and darkening rich gold hairs to a deeper copper. Locks of ivory mane clung about his neck, sticky and wet, curling and furling about a handsome, youthful face and toned cheeks, and had he not been so satisfied with his geographical discovery, Somnus would be lamenting his current state of dress even more so than he deemed completely necessary.

“Hardly becoming at all…” He muttered sourly, less than impressed with himself. Still. There was naught he could do when flying beneath the harsh rays of a mid-summer sun with no protection or cover to shield him. Ah, well. That was what he received when traipsing on an afternoon flight in the midst of summer. What could he expect other than to become at least a little unsightly? It wasn’t as though he had planned to impress anyone today, not when the only thing on his mind was to learn more about this land he had only so recently arrived in.

Only then did he turn his gaze onwards, sharp, inquisitive depths of the purest emerald peering out across the scorched land, staring, absorbing. Memorizing. Dry and brittle grasses and vegetation stretched as far as the eye could see amidst the rolling hills and valleys, the visible earth giving only a teasing hint as to the true dimensions of the plains that he stood upon now. Scattered groves of trees broke up the monotony, splashes of greenery, all varying in sizes and species, scattered amidst the land and providing ample shade for any who wish to receive respite from the heat of the sun. Perhaps, after a bit more investigating, Somnus would retire amidst the shade for an afternoon nap. For now he was content to continue his careful scrutiny, relishing in the breeze that had since picked up and done wonders to cool hot sweat. To the south, its majestic figure, regal and dominating, was the large mountain that the tactician had soared past on both his way to the Dawn Court as well as to these very plains. It was a grand mountain, raising high up in the air and into the clouded heavens themselves. Maybe one day he would climb the mountain, if only to satisfy the curiosity of what might be awaiting at the top.

After a few more moments of admiring the majesty that was Mount Veneror, the dunalino gentleman continued his venture, humming a nondescript tune from his colt-hood beneath his breath as he roamed the fields of green and gold. Grass crackled and crunched underfoot with every step he traversed, bugs buzzing about and flies skirting far too close before a flick of an ivory tail sent them scurrying back into the air. It was a lovely day for a little stroll, albeit a tad bit too hot, but far from miserable. Nearby a herd of mottled, tawny bison grazed, and Somnus took heed to give them a wide berth. This was clearly their territory, their home, and the last thing that he wished for was to upset the balance that they had created.

Coming across a small stream bubbling merrily through the fields, the tactician paused to quench his thirst, and it was there that he decided to rest and cool off before continuing his exploration.






Open to anyone!


RE: A Little Geography Never Hurt Anyone - Bexley - 08-08-2017



[Image: 500_by_memuii-dbfxt60.png]

" BEXLEY BRIAR "



For weeks Bexley has sulked within the Day Court, pinned to her homeland by the omnipresence of the sun that had come with mid-summer. Not that she minds it, really - Bex is and always has been a child of the sun, one to relish in heat, in Solis’s gaze bathing her - but the high temperature has quashed her urge to travel, and so she’s only moved from Court to desert to oasis, curls flattened by the heat, sweat streaming off her ribs, made lazy by the arduous sunshine.

Yet today she’s somehow gathered the urge to move, and this is how she finds herself in the fields, crunching grass under those blond hooves, aureate skin damp from the dip she took in the creek on the way here. Above the sky shines its vibrant blue, with only the barest streak of clouds to block the sun, letting light seep over each corner of the world. Everything is white with sun or cut harshly with blackest shadow - nothing left gray or unclaimed. Bex has been here before, twice, maybe, so she lets her head hang and doesn’t bother looking as much as she might have, merely happy to be somewhere outside Solterra, which has started to feel like less of a home and more of a prison. Sidestepping the bison, she winds a quiet, unhurried path across the field. 

After a moment, her ears flick forward, catching the lilt of someone’s hum. Bexley comes to a sharp stop and jerks her head up: there, yards away, a stranger with huge wings and a sable horn, one she’s surely never come across before. An immediate distaste flashes through her brain. Why does everyone have to have wings - ? She distrusts anything that flies on principle, and this man is no exception. Bex wrinkles her nose and debates whether she should even bother saying anything, but realizing he must have caught her scent by now, shifts her weight across her feet and calls out, somewhat unhappily, Scorcher today, hmm?


@Somnus oh she's such a booger sorry<3
love, space


RE: A Little Geography Never Hurt Anyone - Somnus - 08-10-2017


S O M N U S

"What if I fall?"
"Oh, but my darling, what if you fly?"



He does not remain alone for long.

It is the scent that catches his awareness first, something that smelt sweetly of the sun and distinctly feminine. Somnus does not immediately look her way, for he is in the midst of satiating his thirst from his travels and his unknown companion seems to have no desire to venture any closer quite yet. That was fine with him, for he is sure to be poor company given the sweat slowly drying upon his body and otherwise disheveled appearance. Only after his parched tongue was satisfied did the golden tactician lift his head, droplets of water rolling from his lips before falling into the stream down below.

Sharp eyes of rich emerald eventually seek her out, his unknown visitor, and she is easy to spot amidst the sparse green trees and the otherwise yellow brittle grasses of the plains around them. Though appearing to be of similar height, the young mare is a uniquely feminine creature, with luscious locks of golden-ivory cascading and framing her lovely face in generous waves. There was much about her, from her rich flaxen color to the intricate chrome markings that danced across her flesh, but those were all simply detailed observations. They were facts which Somnus tucked neatly into the orderly files of his mind, ready to be fetched in a moment's notice. This encounter, just like all the others that he had faced while his short time in Novus, would be treated just the same.

She calls out, and the silver-tongue stallion does not miss the unhappy, unsatisfied dulcet tones of her voice. A scorcher? The weather? Ah, yes. It was. Horrendously so, and upon clearing his throat, Somnus went to answer.

"Indeed." Simple, direct, and to the point, but such a simple word did not hide or squander the eloquence of his accent. That was simply the kind of fellow that he was. Many whom he had encountered in the past had called him a 'man of few words'. Honestly, though, Somnus just loathed to waste his breath on the unimportant. He never had been one for incessant, pointless rambling... Then, because he had been taught since colt-hood to be just as polite as he was studious, he went on, dipping his onyx crown towards the stream at his hooves.

"A pleasure, miss. Would you care for a drink?"






@Bexley


RE: A Little Geography Never Hurt Anyone - Bexley - 08-19-2017



[Image: 500_by_memuii-dbfxt60.png]

" BEXLEY BRIAR "


Bexley frowns, for half a moment, at how long it takes him to look her way: is water really so important? Should company not be his first priority? Especially her company? She lets herself be petty for that one second, eyebrows creasing, a tingle of frustration lighting in her chest as she thinks of how badly her recent meetings have been going, then forces it down, packing the virility into the unused corners of her chest. Lashes flared against the brightness of the sun, she observes him carefully as he looks up. Bright green eyes, an ivory stripe snaking its way down the man’s face. Maybe not the most interesting specimen she’s seen in Novus, but not boring by any means: again her gaze flickers over the wings pressed to his side, and, though imperceptible, the muscles across her spine tense, an involuntary suspicion that flushes her body.

Upon hearing his accent, Bexley’s ear flicks of its own accord. Harsh, foreign, clipped. It’s been a long time since she’s heard someone so obviously from out of town. Vaguely she wonders if she sounded like that when she first arrived here, or if she still does. I’ll take you up on that, Bex replies when he finishes, and, pushing hair from her face with a slide of one narrow shoulder, she sidles toward the creek. Only a few feet of clear water rush past them, over rounded stones and heavy-packed dirt. As Bexley comes closer to the stranger, she picks up the scent of something far-away mixed with something familiar, sunny, natural - God, another Dawn Courter, like her run-in with Charlemagne wasn’t annoying enough.

Flower-picker, Bex says out loud. She doesn’t even mean to - it just kind of slips out, her brain-to-mouth filter gone all of a sudden, judgement overtaking her being - but she doesn’t bother to take it back, either. That azure gaze flicks sideways to meet his, so intense it’s almost a glare. Sorry - Dawn Court, huh? I’m Bexley. Day. Her last word is loaded with pride, something heavy and self-indulgent. What else could someone expect from her?



@Somnus 
love, space