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+---- Thread: [AW] Who can say where the roads meet (/showthread.php?tid=580)
Who can say where the roads meet - Weir - 08-09-2017
home is behind the world ahead
there are many paths to tread
Evenings like this brought on memories of the past. As the sun is setting and the sky seems to be draped in silks of purples, pinks, blues, yellows, and oranges. Weir would think of the festivals of her youth to celebrate everything from spring and the coming of new life all the way to the fall where the great harvest would begin and the food was abundant. The girls would dress in their finest clothes of all colors of the rainbow. They would dance and laugh as musicians would play all through the night. New loves would begin and life was abundant if the harvest is good. Fall is a wonderful time in Weir’s mind because it also means snow would be coming and Weir loved snowed and snow storms. She loved how she would blend into her surroundings and she didn’t have to worry about the strong rays of sun on her light complexion. It was a season on warm furs and warm drinks.
Those are times that had grown very dark for her before she comes here. She entered Novus with many regrets on what she has run from, her child, her life, her father, her home, her people, and everything else she had known. In Novus, she does not have to fear her captor coming back for her but she has no way of getting back to her daughter. Would she ever see her again?
A name jumps to mind in a moment like a warm breeze that relaxes every muscle in her body as his face appears in her mind’s eye as she looks at the setting sun in the east. Rosti. How perfect this moment is that all sunsets point in the direction to this man who she has grown so fond of and she misses dearly. She had left so suddenly in a moment of anxiety. The questions of his faithfulness and or his ability to love and her fear of abandonment or capture make her whole-body shiver. She looks away from the painting in the stars for a moment as she assesses her heart for answers.
Without knowing how to stop herself she suddenly breaks out into a gallop. She is headed straight for the night court and to Rosti. She needs to see him, needs to touch him. She must apologize for her actions and ask if she cares for her like she does for him. She couldn’t hold herself back if she tried. Her heart pounded as she picked up speed and headed through the low land hills of the mountains that would cross over into his home.
Her body is damp from sweat that has collected from the pores all over her body as she slows to a walk, unable to keep the same pace any longer. Her head dips under the weight of her large caribou horns as she strides into the northern lands of Denocte. Her hooves remained firm as she collected herself before coming to a stop and looked at her. She suddenly wonders if she has done something wrong. What if someone took her approach as a threat?
The stars are bright now as the moon is peeking its smiling face over the edge of the land. Her skinned always seemed to glow and her stripes seemed to create a ripple over her body like moonlight through the water. She relaxes her posture in hopes to create a docile impression in case any strangers approached and spoke one sentence.
Rosti, where are you? I have come to see you my dear!
RE: Who can say where the roads meet - Rostislav - 08-11-2017
Yes the lake. My apparently preferred land for I spend all my time here it seems. But why would I not want to spend time here? The lake is peaceful and calming.. and when my soul is in turmoil it provides me with tranquility. I'm walking with a slight limp, my hindquarters bruised from my unplanned battle with Aislinn. Although I'd walked away almost perfectly intact, her last attack had knocked my rear out from under me, and now the muscles complained of the deep set ache.
Damaris tags along at my side, her concern mild. Don't you worry about me? I fish for a compliment, for affirmation that her love for me matches my love for her. Of course I do. She snaps at me in her mind and with her jaws, irritated that I would dare ask such a question. I smirk, and her returning growl can't wipe the grin from my face.
We continue in silence then until a voice carries on the wind, one that at this point I might recognize anywhere. Even if I didn't, my nickname and the affection in her words betray her identify immediately. It's Weir of course, the pale, antlered Dusk Court mare. The grin spreads wider on my face and I bound forward in a lumbering canter, pain throbbing through my awkward gait as I try to make my limbs go faster than they are willing. I wince but continue on through the stiffness and dull throbbing until I can see her clearly, not far away.
Do take care. Damaris chides me, trotting along behind and quickly catching up as I slow to a trot, then a walk. My limp becomes more pronounced as I've aggravated my body. "Weir, I'm so glad you came, I-- what on earth happened?!" My voice changes from boyish glee to concern as I see her body in sweat. "Are you ok? Are you being chased, are you ill?" I'd have never asked so many wuatjons of someone I did not care about. I was too aloof and stoic for that. But I like Weir (a lot) and I can't stop the worry from transforming into pressing questions. I reach my muzzle out toward her, nares flaring with alertness as I try to figure out what's caused the sheen on her body, the drip from her eyes, ears, nose, and belly.
RE: Who can say where the roads meet - Weir - 08-13-2017
home is behind the world ahead
there are many paths to tread
It seemed like forever that she waited. Long pale ear flicking around her skull and against her antlers. Long red lines down her face circling pink eyes that stared out into the distances around her. This place is unfamiliar. She had been here once but not for long, merely passing through before the borders became claimed and strangers were not so openly welcome to just cruise through on a whim. Weir’s ribs heaved slower now until her breath became more than normal.
Suddenly he is here, finally!
Upon his approach, Weir called out to him and allowed his words to sink into her temples. Before she had an opportunity to fully greet him she noticed he had a limp on one side. Soft rose eyes creased in concern for his welfare. She reached out to meet his muzzle and rested there as she whispered to him. A better question is are you alright my dear Rosti?
Her soft, warm, and plush muzzle resting against his, whiskers intertwining. She breathed in his scent in silence for a moment, her lids closing as she gave into this feeling. Something so dangerous for her heart. She has not forgotten her fears, her reservations but she is a sucker for feelings and chances. He makes her feel good, isn’t that all anyone can ask for?
She pulls away slowly, coming back to reality slowly. Weir looked Rosti contently, a smile creasing her soft pale and rose lips. He looked so good right now. His dark horns and his long lion tail. His soft spotted coat and then who is this? A green and black wolf stood nearby. Weir stepped back and snorted towards the creature. Who is this? Is this yours?
He seemed to show no aggression towards either of them. Additionally, he seemed to show a bond to Rosti. He stuck close to him and seemed to stand by his side and not on his own. He is isn’t he.
She relaxed her stance at this before remembering his words from earlier. Weir stepped gingerly closer to Rosti, still eyeing the wolf and stepping into his space to relax her neck against his while she spoke quietly. I am fine my dear. I just had to see you. I am sorry about the way I left before. There is still so much you don’t know about me. I…I… The words caught in her throat. She is so unsure of how to put her thoughts and feelings into words. I don’t know if I can ever trust again. I ran away from everything I knew and so much more. I don’t know how to forgive myself for… for what I left behind.
Weir rubbed into him if her touch is accepted. The sweat had crusted somewhat onto her body and she thought of this and how she much smell and feel. Weir slowly pulled away from him and looked at herself for a moment before stepping towards the lake and then turned over her shoulder to look at him. I am sure I look terrible. I am going to take a dip into the lake. Would you like to join me? She smirked mischievously at him before turning towards the dark waters and cantering over to its shore and slowing down to walk slowly into the cool waters.
@Rostislav - <3
@Reichenbach - your still welcome to join if you want. :D
RE: Who can say where the roads meet - Rostislav - 08-29-2017
She notices my limp. But really, it's hard not to. A poor lamed beast I am, looking ridiculous, I'm sure. I shake my head, ignoring her question as concern dances across my expression, brow furrowed. Woman first. Man later. My muzzle continues to wander over her, searching for what has caused her to fly into the Night Court. Her words of Damaris enter my mind and are immediately shoved to the back. I cannot have a relaxed, enjoyable conversation when I'm worried about your safety, woman! Calm down, Rostislav. She is fine. Damaris croons in my mind, amusement woven through her soothing words. If she were injured I would be able to scent it. She's right of course - her nose KNOWS things. Knows things a horse, prey animal not predator, would not be able to pick up on.
Sure enough, Weir tries to calm my fears, assuring me that she is just fine. She ran to see me. To see me? I blink at her, my heart responding but my brain struggling to keep up. That dedicated to.. to finding me and seeing me again? She recalls our last encounter, as if knowing that the memory is flitting through my mind, projected up front and center. I'd thought there was something wrong before, that I'd offended her somehow and given her cause to draw back. Perhaps I had but here she is apologizing. She tries to explain, but it comes out vague and more of a riddle than an answer. I cock my head to the side, like a goofy German Shepherd. I want to shush her, shush the striped mare and tell her she doesn't have to apologize. But she already did.
She rubs against me, pale hide against my dark one. Her sweat crusty on her body rubs against my smooth one. How did I end up the clean one? I snort and shake my head with a chuckle as Weir walks away, down toward the lake. I follow slowly, like I'm being pulled on a string after her, unable to walk away even if I wanted to. I pause at the edge of the water, watching her, entranced. I begin to answer the questions she's thrown at me as the gears in my brain stir, creaking. "I'm ok.. or I will be. I was in a fight and took a hard hit. It just needs time." I grunt, brushing aside the injury like it's nothing, even though it's not nothing. I glance over at Damaris who has casually followed me. "Yes, this is Damaris. She's my bonded -- a hellhound." I smile at the hound, then begin to enter the water after my dear.
You read that right.
WC: 450 Tag: @Weir @Reichenbach I still want Reich to crash this :D Rosti thoughts | "Rosti speech" | Damaris mindspeak
RE: Who can say where the roads meet - Reichenbach - 08-29-2017
KING OF THIEVES
Reichenbach hadn't intended to stumble onto the intimate moment between Weir and his dear friend Rostislav... but he was glad he had. Albeit a little hesitant to reveal himself now that they had slid into the lake - he'd look like a creep. But when he'd arrived, all sighs and heartbreak, Reichenbach hadn't been able to look away from the beautiful scene before him. It almost hurt to see the ease with which they brushed against one another, the tenderness in each movement so clear and obvious that The Night King found himself smiling despite himself. There was nobody more deserving of love than Rostislav. He was a genuine soul, rough around the edges but as clear and honest as starlight. Reich couldn't have asked for a better friend, or a better warden. As for Weir... while Reichenbach had met the sweet-hearted mare only twice, a blessing for the two was already upon his grinning lips.
As Rostislav entered the lake, Reichenbach made to turn away, back to Denocte and yet... his grin turned wicked. With a great whoop, Reichenbach stormed out of the trees and into the lake, a mess of muscle and wild ebony curls. Water erupted around his body as he leapt, spraying Rostislav and Damaris with a wall of chilly lake water. By the time the Night King had come to halt he was drenched, curls soddenly sticking to his cheek and neck, his silver eyes bright with mirth and vitality.
He grinned, amused and cheeky as he dipped his head at Weir, knowing eyes gleaming.
"Weir. I trust the journey from Terrastella did not take too long?"
@Rostislav @Weir he's late but he's here! Crashing the party haha
RE: Who can say where the roads meet - Weir - 09-06-2017
home is behind the world ahead
there are many paths to tread
The water wraps around my legs. It is cool and refreshing as well as slightly shocking in comparison to the summer air. It doesn’t deter me as I continue into deeper darker waters but my attention is still focused onto my Rosti. I turn to look towards him and my heart flutters. I am a hopeless child in these moments. I have no idea what I am doing or really what I am feeling but I felt that it was necessary to try and sort through the fog of memories, thoughts, and feelings that storm my mind like a hurricane. I try my best to keep my feelings calm and submerged beneath my albino surface. I worry that Rosti might be pushing himself too much with this injury. I have seen scars on his and seen minor aches and pains but nothing like this and it worries me but I know this is who he is and part of why I … I love him.
Weir tosses turn her head towards the wolf creature that Rosti introduced. Smiling she dips her head to the silent creature. Hello Damaris, I am Weir strong wolf. I hope you keep dear Rosti safe in all his… spars. She hesitates but she is not dismayed as she looks on Rosti now. She accepts him for who he is even though she knows it is not her path. She is a healer. She nickers to him now, trying to convince him further into the waters. The healing power of water is ancient and she knows it will help with the smelling and clean bugs and germs from his wounds. She also knows it will help to relax him and perhaps clear his mind better as it helps her to clear her mind. Then finally he enters the water and she tossed her head, water dipped braids sending splashes of waters towards him in a teasing game that she soon mixes with laughter.
Weir is not one to lose sight of her surroundings for predators but this time she did as the water suddenly explodes with noise and drops of water drench her face. She turns away instinctively but as soon as the water dissipates she looks to the source of this surprise to see the king of the Night Court. She smiles even broader to the curled haired man in response to his own energy that seems to pour forth from him. He spoke kind words as to her well-being and she looked to Rosti first before responding.
I made short work of it.
Her response is spoken in a light and friendly tone to her friend. She thinks for a second she is in a place she has not had permission for but based on the king’s hospitality, she is welcome and needs not to further any questions on the matter. She appreciates this kindness from him. It would make seeing Rosti so much more difficult if there were to be stricter border regulations.
I have to come to visit Rosti but what a wonderful surprise to see you, King Reichenbach.
Old habits die hard for her. She comes from a time and a lineage of kings in castles. It’s a normal greeting but she does correct herself.
I mean Sovereign.
She smiles and giggles coyly before she remembers something and quickly grabs for a bag she carries in her mane made of thick broad leaves but carries a mixture of smaller leaves, grasses, and flowers that she has made ready for emergency situations since she can’t carry all of her healing herbs with her all the time. She uses the innate power given to all to move objects to propel it towards Rosti.
My dear Rosti take this and mix it with water. It will need to be heated and then you remove all the leaves except for the flowers and drink the liquid and eat the flowers. I have read in books sacred to the Night Court that is helps with healing and pain. I don’t know if it will help with the scars but I don’t think that will bother you.
She speaks the last bit playfully. She knows he seemed to master this talent of moving things last time she saw him but is curious if he is still able to do it now.
Let’s see if he has been practicing.
@Rostislav @Reichenbach
Hope you don't mind the first person to second person shift.
RE: Who can say where the roads meet - Rostislav - 09-10-2017
My attention is on Weir, watching her swim and splash. Flicks of water come at me and I turn my head playfully, as if to avoid the droplets. She encourages me to come in farther, and I do, entering until the water comes up to where my neck connects to my chest. She speaks to Damaris, and I tilt my head when she mentions "strong wolf." I've never heard her mention this before, and I wonder where the name came from. If she will ever tell me.
The thought is driven from my mind when a great splash drives up waves of water, practically drowning me in its wake. I sputter and shake my head. My forelock hangs over my eyes, twisted around my horns. Damaris barks, irritated with the king that swims in the lake next to us. She shakes herself out and moves away from the bank, choosing to lie down in the grass instead. I snort at the soaked bay, narrowing my eyes at first, then I break into a cheerful grin.
The king doesn't greet me verbally, but his eyes glance my way with matching cheer. "Hello Comrade!" I speak informally. It will take a bashing to get me to speak with any sort of hierarchal title nonsense. Aren't we all comrades in arms? I find myself feeling protective as he talks to Weir.... not so much that I fear for her safety, but that I fear for her.. innocence. Not that I presume to know much about that aspect of her life. But while I may toot my own horn plenty, this is a handsome sovereign. The jealousy creeps through me as they exchange friendly greetings, but not enough to ruin my mood.
A shiver runs through me from the cool water, before Weir gets my attention. She moves a little baggy toward me and I take it from her, letting the little drawstring hang from one of my horns. Her instructions are clear, but I frown with perplexion. "And how am I supposed to heat it exactly?" Am I just being stupid? I glance to Reichenbach to see if he knows the answer. Still, inside, I'm thinking it might be more macho to just deal with the pain. I'm made of tough stuff.
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