[AW] rosemary & thyme

[Cyrene]

CYRENE

the monarchs flew free;
yet they circled around her.

Sighing, Cyrene flipped the cover of her satchel closed with a toss of sable curls. Her herb supplies were running low, yet again. And it was obviously not because she’d depleted her entire reserve in the succession of failed potions she had attempted the night before. Sometimes, she wondered why she even bothered when the results were bound to be downright disastrous. At the very least, her efforts had yielded one small bottle of crimson liquid; a draught for easing aches and pains. Perhaps it would prove useful at a later time. 

With a swift shake, snow shed off her wings in cold clumps as she rose on limber legs. If Cyrene’s talents did not lay in potion making, then it surely manifested in her knack of gathering even the most finicky and elusive of herbs. It was wintertime, the girl was well aware of that—but the few hardy species that mocked winter’s supposedly smothering presence were growing splendidly below a bed of icy white, and it was these very herbs that the sprightly nymph now set off to seek.

"Rosemary, sage, winter savory…” the names flowed from her tongue like a well-recited rhyme, and magnificent, wine-soaked feathers beat steadily against her sides as she moved like a panther through the evergreen forest. The girl had stumbled upon the emerald woods of the Viride only a few days before, as she galloped on swift hooves under a luminous moon. Its shadowy depths promised a fine adventure Cyrene would tuck away for a dull afternoon, and she had reluctantly turned away from its beckoning entrance as she etched its location into her memory.

Excitement flowed through the girl like a rushing river, as that adventure was now presenting itself on a silver platter to her. Accepting that tantalizing offer would kill two birds with one stone, for she was sure to encounter fields of hidden herbs along the way, patiently awaiting her inevitable discovery of them. 

Yet unbeknownst to her, Cyrene would stumble upon something much more compelling than frost-defying greens. 

@Nerissa & anyone else | notes: sorry this took me a while D:

rallidae

[Aibreann]

The young mare had made her way to a forest, one she did not know. The chimera walked with careful hoofsteps, her little leather satchel hidden beneath her large eagle wings. There was no telling what or who the demigoddess would find here in these woods, so it would be best to be on high alert. Aibreann knew how to heal with herbs, but was not skilled in making anything other than those traditional poultices and the like. Her mother had helped teach her when she could come down, even if she was limited to coming down once or twice. The little golden chains that spanned between her antlers glinted in the sun. Her long, slender legs strode easily but cautiously through the woods. Finding a space in the trees, she pushed off the ground and flapped her wings once, aiming to push off one of the sturdy trees that was around the space. She soared in a circle, testing her wing muscles. They had finally recovered from her lengthy flee from her homeland. Landing back on the ground, she stretched them out completely, making sure that none of the feathers were damaged or bent. Dark blue-grey and reddish ears moved around as she heard a voice coming from in the woods. Her head jerked towards the source of the sound, her antler chains tinkling with the sudden movement. Aibreann was a tall but almost delicately built mare. Her build held traces of a sturdier draft breed, but her dished face and arched neck implied she held traces of another breed. She was delicate but sturdy, a perfect mix of her mother and father. Bicolored eyes, mismatched like the rest of her features. Her wings folded back against her sides, their long length spanning her sides. The tips just reached past her rear. The leather satchel at her side was filled with herbs from her homeland, other herbs that were not necessarily common here. The demigoddess wasn't sure what herbs grew here, though she'd be interested to find out. The gentle mare's bicolored eyes were still focused towards the source of the voice, and she would see another winged mare darting through the woods. The white blaze down her face stood out quite obviously from her blue roan and red roan split face. She didn't dare make any advances towards the other mare, her wary and self conscious nature keeping her from making the first move. @Cyrene "Speech."

[Cyrene]

CYRENE

the monarchs flew free;
yet they circled around her.

Something—someone—was watching her.

So accustomed was the girl to the voice of the forest, that every fledgling’s chirp, every fawn’s tremble, resonated deep within her avian bones. To the wood nymph’s trained ears, then—a brush of whispering feathers against wood, the rustling of frozen leaves underfoot—were telltale signs of a timid, lurking presence.

Timid, because no sinister being ever made a mistake as foolish as sound.

With hushed breath made sharp as crystalline shards by the frigid air, Cyrene traipsed solemnly through the powder-white snow. She would not be able to resume her herb hunt in peace, without first tracing the thing that hunted her. Ever so casually, sable curls settled precariously across her amber eyes as she let out a soft yawn of feigned drowsiness. Clueless she would act, until the lurker’s head lay between her jaws.

Cheerily, Cyrene let the pleasing thought fill her mind as she tucked crimson wings smartly along her sides—and burst into a sudden scamper through the exasperated evergreen pines. As swift as a sparrow, she flitted to and fro like a lost little chick, heading everywhere and nowhere all at once. Had they followed her? Not that it matters, she hummed in delight. A hunt, however serious she took it, never failed to pump sweet, sweet adrenaline through her racing veins. It had been too long since she’d had such fun.

From the first muffled rustle that had drifted into her swiveling ears, the keen huntress had pinpointed the direction of her little lurker to a grove of young saplings a ways left of her. After a thorough scouting of the land she'd cleverly disguised as mere aimless dashing, Cyrene settled herself neatly against an especially wide redwood trunk. Its snow-covered needles obscured her lithe frame almost completely from sight; cautiously, the girl dared a shadowy glance outwards—and a feral grin painted itself lovingly upon rosebud puckered lips.

For just a few paces in front of her, a shadow stood prone and tense against a similarly shaped trunk like a prize waiting to be claimed. I’ve found you.

The enigmatic figure was much taller than she had anticipated, and as slender as a doe. Expansive eagle wings hung tensely across a dainty back; no doubt the soft feathers Cyrene had heard scratching against rough bark so clearly. As she strained to observe more through the foliage, wine-stained shoulders relaxed the moment she realized it was only a girl! Tenderly, she bit back a laugh. What a frenzy she had worked herself into over a nonexistent threat.

I hope I will not frighten her, sneaking up like this. Softly, Cyrene stepped out from amongst her hiding place with not a trace of the fierce huntress remaining in her elfin prance. "Hello. You gave me quite the scare, you know,” she chuckled whimsically towards the girl’s peculiarly colored back. "There’s no need in hiding yourself anymore—I promise that I’ve no intention to hurt you.” 

@Aibreann | gah this post is everywhere ;-;

rallidae