Wariness crept in to her bones as she walked the Eluetheria Plain, her slate eyes darting up every so often to the horizon that held the mother of all storm clouds, swollen with rain and potentially heavy winds. Even at the distance it was, it was incredibly fast, rolling up in the sky and sending lightning cracking across clouds, dancing, while thunder rumbled low. It snarled in warning for what was to come, and she found herself looking around rapidly, ears going back. There was no way she could outrun it, and the nearest shelter (other than a cave) were the trees that were far far away. Even then, there were gusts of wind that knocked her hair around and her wings back, nearly snapping fragile bones as the storm encroached.
She ducked her head downward and folded the wings, feeling the wind rush about her, the sky darkening far more rapidly, and she dropped the herbs she had gathered. They fell to her hooves, only to get whipped away with a gust of wind, and the roar of thunder grew. Araxes turned herself, dancing on her hooves before she lunged forward, toward the cave that she had seen.
She moved with a speed she never would have thought she had, hooves pounding at the ground as the rain began to pour. It was no gentle beginning but an utter downpour that spilled out from the fat clouds, dumping what felt like tons of water. She was soaked within a moment, feeling the water trickle against her skin, and the wind whip up a frenzy.
Lightning cracked, striking the ground near her, and it sent her squealing the last hundred feet or so in to the cave, grateful to stumble in past rocks and a gaping cavern maw. The sage dipped her head, feeling herself shivering as she tried to press to a wall, huddling against rocks that scraped at her flanks in an effort to preserve body heat.
It had been so warm before, but the sudden storm felt like ice compared to the usual summer heat.
Everywhere he went, this summer heat was basically baking the landscape. He even wandered far past the borders of the desert that was Solterra (Or was it Day? Which damn name was it, anywho?); the heat still sucked the moisture from his lips. Thus, he took shelter in the best area he knew (or rather, could find): an underground cave, nestled into some unknown plain on the edge of the Desert. It dug down deep into the dirt, winding down until the shadows overtook the light.
In the distance, he heard the rolling rumble of thunder. He swore he heard it earlier, except much, much farther away.. And for a moment, he grew concerned. Should it rain too heavily, this little innocuous grotto might be at risk for flooding... his eyes instinctively looked up to the mouth of the cave, which was a gentle slope up from where he was. Eyes narrowed, and he blew a hot breath from his nostrils. I'm sure it won't be that bad.
So he stayed, nestled alongside a large boulder near the cave's mouth. Back legs tucked underneath him, forelegs rested neatly by his chest, he relaxed. For the first time in a long while, he was able to unwind enough to allow the cavity's spines to crack open. The drop in air pressure made his chest feel tight, so it was a nice reprieve to be able to allow it to 'air out,' per se.
In all honesty, he planned on falling asleep to the sweet sound of the storm. But that want quickly vanished as a screaming mess of tiny wings, white fur, and black spots came careening into the cave. Torstein jerked his head up, ears flying upwards and eyes wide - he wholly expected her to go crashing into a wall or something. He stared at her, shocked, instead of the other way around. The monsoon occurring outside the cave didn't even seem to phase him.
She didn't even seem to notice him, what with all her huffing (which might as well be sobbing, by how frantic she seemed). His jaw might have been slack - he didn't even know anymore... but that familiar, tiny, shivering mess still hasn't seen him yet. She must be very unobservant, or scared shitless. Or both? For a moment, the thought to close the spines on his chest crossed his mind. However, Tor quickly dismissed the notion... because truthfully, it wasn't like he was the least bit threatened by the fluffy, exasperated mess of a mare.
"Uh, are you okay...?" he questioned, dragging out the end of his sentence incredulously.
The rain had left Araxes soaked through, her fur bunching up and slicked in some places, while standing on end in other spots. Even the wings were soaked and bedraggled, giving her the look of a wet dog, and a wet bird, all at once. Blinking, rain slipped over her face, from her eyes, and she shuddered, mostly from the way that the lightning had struck. It had been so close that.. well. Part of her front leg was singed from it, the smell wafting up to her. It tingled, and she had a headache, but she was lucky that it hadn't struck her full on. Despite herself, the small mare lifted her front leg, propping it on her hoof instead, glad to get the weight off of it and feel less pins and needles while she leaned on the wall.
Only then did she realize she wasn't alone.
She shivered, and her head lifted, tilting toward the large hulking form and... "T-Torstein?" She swallowed, and attempted to give a smile, but the loud boom of thunder made her wince, even if she was protected. She was never a fan of storms; in her youth they were horrifying. Loud and devastating, her old lands that she had come from were wild, constantly changing due to storms. She wasn't used to them here, even after being part of Novus for a few years now. Something in the back of her mind was on permanent alert (and terrorized) when it came to roiling black clouds and the snarl of thunder.
"Y-yeah. I'm.. aha... I'm okay. I'll be okay." She lifted her leg a little, giving it a small wiggle as her wings pressed in to her head a little more, shivering along the bones, wet feathers shaking. "Just.. a little lightning." She would have to find herbs after the storm; they'd help with the pain, and she was more than willing to pluck them once it all blew over. "Um.. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to.. startle you?" He looked a little slack jawed, and her eyes darted over him, feeling a bloom of shame in her chest that came from barreling in to a cave.
That's when she noticed his chest, and the spines, and.. his heart? She blinked, once or twice, but looked back up to him, not the least bit perturbed.
She really was a wet mess of fluff and feathers, wasn't she? But somehow, even frazzled, she managed to look adorable. Granted, in the same way a soaked bunny looks... but still.
His head cocked to the side even more, and he cleared his throat. She was favoring her leg like something had happened to it, and the large stallion inwardly sighed. Had she really injured herself running quickly away from the storm? Can she even take care of herself?
And then the smell of singed hair hit him. Instantly, he wrinkled his nose and coughed. "Did you set yourself on fire, woman?" he said, exasperated. The smell was disgusting, but short-lived. Thankfully, it was raining hard enough that the earthy smell of precipitation, wet grass, dirty, and humidity overtook the cave.
She was left stuttering and trying to explain herself, claiming she'd be fine or whatever. But her shivers, her limping, her general being said very otherwise. She was wet, cold, and scared. And the large stallion heaved a large sigh as he shifted his weight to lean on his left side, shoulder rested against the cave wall.
He jerked his head to the spot beside him, and looked up at the mare expectantly. "Just lay down here. You're cold, wet, and apparently hurt," he sighed, eyeing the singed leg with a wary eye. ".. standing and attempting to, uh, leach warmth from a cold as hell cave wall will do you no good."
Her gaze dropped to his chest as she fumbled to explain herself and apologize. He was mildly shocked she did nothing more than blink - maybe she was getting accustomed to him and just expecting to see weird shit, now. Afterall, she was the one with tiny, useless wings behind her ears.
"So...." he drawled, "I know this is a nasty storm and all, by why exactly where you hurtling towards the cave like you were about to be eaten?"
Pause.... "....And I'm going to assume that was you screaming like a banshee."
Araxes' ears went back at the slight mention of how she caught herself on fire. "No!" It was a quick response, and her wings ruffled in a slight annoyance, before it fizzled out just as fast and she released a long held sigh, slumping her shoulders just a little. "A ball of lightning struck close to me," she explained, and she wrinkled her nose just a little. At least the scent was already fading, though the pins and needles still prickled at her skin and nerves, and she shifted on her hooves.
What she didn't expect was an invitation to be near him, but there was a grateful look in her eyes as she managed to shuffle away from the cold rock, carefully allowing herself to lay down with him. He radiated a heat that she immediately closed her eyes to, letting a hum slip from her lips and her legs to curl. The injured one rested a little awkwardly, less bent than the other, and a patch of hair was missing, but at least while she was laying down she didn't have to really favor it so much.
Warmth bloomed over her, and her wings attempted to hide her shame, which was really just a small shuffle of wet feathers as her head ducked and she cleared her throat. "I.. yes. It was me," she started, and glanced up, her eyes opening as she gave a sheepish sort of smile. "Though I didn't scream until after the lightning ball." She gave a pause, and looked up toward the mouth of the cave, feeling far more secure with someone in there with her.
"Before I came here and became part of the Night Court, I lived in a land where storms were... destructive. Entire chunks of the lands could be rearranged by the storms, and I know.. here, they're not bad. It's been two years but I still have the fear in the back of my mind that a storm will come some day and sunder the land with a heavy blow." She was surprisingly well worded, though it wasn't often she indulged in the company to do so, and a small smile lifted on one side of her mouth. "I guess it's just a fear that will always stick with me. I've seen herds torn apart by wind alone, and I've seen places go up in to flames. The land crack under hooves. It was a violent time when the storms came back then." Terrifying, though the storms were not frequent, which was a lucky thing.
Pausing, she tilted her head, looking at the large male and observing him for a moment. "..do you like storms?" It was more a soft whisper, and she looked back to the mouth of the cave, the warmth coming from Torstein making her shuffle just a little closer to him, to enjoy how it felt.
He must like them, if he was simply laying in a cave looking almost half asleep.
"A lightning strike?" he said curiously. Ball of lighting was such an... innocent phrase.
Gaze falling down to the leg she was so obviously favoring, he noted the missing patch of fur and singed skin. "You're lucky it didn't kill you," he stated matter-of-factly as she sidled on over to him and curled up at his side. She was so much tinier than he, the size difference so readily apparent with her nestled up to him. Especially laying down, she looked pitifully vulnerable and timid.
He wasn't sure how he felt about that.
Regardless, he let her cuddle up to him, her body so very cold compared to his radiating heat. As she mused of her past, his head leaned over hers, lips brushing the plastered bit of wet forelock away from her face and behind the wings.. should she not duck away from his touch, that is.
Her fear of storms, and how they ravaged her home land, was surprising to him. "Would explain the running and general panic," he mused, leaning his head down to rest upon the medium sized boulder in front of him. Nature was a fickle beast.
"My nation revered storms," he reflected, peering at her out of the corner of his eye. "But they were more welcomed reprieves than natural disasters." Tilting his head towards her, he rested his left cheek on the boulder so he could rest and watch the bespeckled mare simultaneously.
Staring at her for a few long moments, in a pregnant silence, he eventually looked back towards the mouth of the cave. "Was nature the reason you left your homeland? To then come to the... Night Court?" he paused, and then mumbled "- I'll pretend like I know where that is."
He wasn't much for words or small talk. It was never his strong suit - truth be told, few people in his empire wanted to talk to him. For obvious reasons, although that never bothered him in the slightest. At least there, he knew what he had and had what he wanted.
Here, he knew not where he stood, what he had (if anything), or who surrounded him.
A small shrug rolled her delicate shoulders. "Lightning," she simply agreed. "I've seen it kill many horses, if they were unlucky enough to be out in the storms." It was why most of the time in her old lands, herds lived in caverns and caves carved in to sturdy mountainsides. Something to ensure survival, and they built within the mountains. It had been a home life, so maybe that was why she was so.. adapted to living in the Night Court, in the Court building itself. It felt like a home to her.
There was no drawing back when she came back to reality from her thoughts, letting out the softest squeak of a sound as lips touched her forelock, where it was scraggly against her face. It was only a gentle sound, but her slate eyes went a little wide at how.. was he being tender? He was, in his own way, and a warmth bloomed through her body, settling in her belly, and she leaned a little more against him, and her wings tucked up behind her ears, feathers laying flat, while some looked rather too wet and thin. They would dry.
It was interesting to listen to him, and her eyes glanced over him, from his chest to his face, and resting there rather than where the obvious would be. Part of her wanted to ask if it was safe, his heart like that, but she supposed it was, or his chest wouldn't be open now, would it? "Was your nation a dry place?" It would be a little obvious why they revered storms, if they were a dry area with little water. Perhaps he was in the Day Court, the hot lands where the sun reigned supreme.
Still, her lips twitched in to a soft smile, her head turning to glance at the rough weather outside, and then back to Torstein himself. "I guess.. you could say that. It was a dangerous place and.. well. I wanted to see if there was more. I came here and then the Night Court was.. the place I fit in the most. The environment and the fact they welcomed me as a Sage in to their arms... I live in the building, the Court itself." She lifted her head just a little, and a faint (very gentle) giggle parted her lips.
"I never would have imagined myself as.. well. As a Champion of Wisdom... but I've learned a lot here, and I want to learn more. There's so.. much, even if I've lived here a while already."
He lipped the forelock away from her face, tucked it behind her ears and alongside those minuscule wings. Once done, he pulled his head back and regarded the bespeckled little mare with a curious gaze as she cooed and cuddled up even further to him. Such a simple gesture from him illicited such a response from her.
For a brief moment, he wondered if this was merely a facade she employed. In fact, he even considered appealing to the Triennial Eye to peer into her... but shook the thought. She was too pure, too sweet, too quiet, too unknowing to have any truly deceitful intentions. He was sure of it.
She mentioned his home. Well, this is is home now... here in Novus. But Stolthet was his home before. "Not particularly, but rain brought sustenance. It brought crops, and prosperity." His ears twitched at the thought of Solterra, dry and arid, being his new home.
"Where I live now, I'd kiss the sand at my feet to experience daily rain," he grumbled, obvious disdain lacing his words as he stared out over the plains. He felt leagues away from the hot desert and its searing, unforgiving landscape. He was not so lost in his words, though, to not notice her glance at his chest. She hadn't seen his heart like this - few, if any, had - open and exposed. The tough organ beat steadily behind the spines, the insides - which appeared to be raw muscle, but oddly were not - almost disguising it among the rest of the red mass. He did not open the spines often.. it was an obvious weakness he was not usually willing to let others see.
But somehow, this bespeckled, curious little thing was different.
She went on about the Night Court, and one of his ears lazily flicked forward as he watched her, his head still rested upon the rock in front of him. "Is it always dark there?" Such an odd question, but he was sure she got it often. "I'm the Warden of the Day Court, myself."
His muzzle, oddly soft, nosed at her good leg, spilling warm breath over her kneecap. He could practically envelop the small mare. Her haunches barely reached the loins of his, and his neck could crane around in front of her chest. She really was minuscule - just as her earwings were to her, she was to him.
His head rested at a distinctly lower vantage point - although his massive, pristine horns still jutted up and probably leveled off in height with her own ears.. as eyes the color of mulled wine met hers. Had he not noticed before, how oddly pretty she was? Not homely, but not something that stands out immediately. Rather, a beauty that you notice later on.
The stallion - and he was obviously aware of that fact, now - cleared his throat, and shifted his haunches uncomfortably.
It made sense, rain bringing prosperity and crops. It did when it was gentle in her home, but they had long lived in the caves and built gardens in where there were holes in the ceiling. Irrigation systems dug in to the ground that trickled from a stream. It had been their way of surviving. She missed it sometimes, but other times, didn't mind being here.
Tiny wings ruffled up, feathers puffing on end in a way that a bird might puff up when it was comfortable and hunkering down to rest for a while. "I've heard Solterra is an arid place with overwhelming heat, but with strong warriors. Isn't there an oasis there?" She was certain she had read about that, somewhere. Solterra's treasure of sorts, hidden away past canyons and desert, tucked like a gleaming jewel for those that had the skill to find it.
Hearing him ask about the Night Court, she smiled a little lopsidedly, releasing a soft giggle in response. "Is it always day in the Day Court?" she asked, her slate eyes turning toward him. He was a large thing, but like this... he was rather cute. Araxes felt a flutter in her belly at the thought, and she blinked, before gently soldiering on. "No, it's not always dark. I feel like it's the best place to see the stars at night, though, where it is. A good position in the lands...." She trailed in thought, and became aware of warmth on her leg.
It was odd, how large he was, because she felt so small next to him. The warmth fluttered from her stomach to her chest, and her wings gave a small ruffle as her head ducked down. Positioned as they were, she could rest her muzzle against the side of his large head, and she did, ensuring her wings didn't hit him or flap all over in some ridiculous way.
"What's it like, being a Warden?" she asked, almost sleepily. The sound of his voice seemed to soothe her worries, gently allowing her mind to wander away from thoughts on the storm outside. She wasn't even sure if it was storming anymore.
@Torstein (literally imagining he was like 'oh no she's cute' in his head)
08-22-2017, 11:09 AM
Played by
inkbone [PM] Posts: 75 — Threads: 5 Signos: 0
He chuckled at her statements, for they were honestly true. "It's dry, hot, unforgiving, and sand gets in every crevice you can imagine." His heavy tail flicked with a loud thump at his haunches, as if to make a point. Little bits of sand flew into the air above the bespeckled mare's head.
A chuckle slipped past his normally serious lips with her little bite of sarcasm. Not what he expected of her, but not wholly unexpected, either. "My statement sounds more and more stupid the more we talk about it," he muttered, smiling coyly at her. A smile was not something that often graced his lips, laced with sarcasm or otherwise.
When she rested her head against his - so small compared to his, he could still peer over her ears if he tried - he did not move away. He didn't know why, and he felt a hum in his throat. Eyes met hers, and held their gaze. Through her questions, through her touches, through the warmth of her breath against his skin.
Although her question did elicit a pause. A Warden was... no polite job, certainly not like a Champion, let alone a Champion of Wisdom. As he thought about how to word the information without offending her (why did that matter so much now?), he lifted his head up slightly, his jawline hovering just above her neckline.
And slowly, his neck rested over top of hers, his head alongside hers once more. Warm breath spilled from his nostrils along the tender skin of her jaw and ears as he brought his muzzle close to them, eyes once again seeking out her gaze.
Soft muzzle pressed against her ears as he spoke soft, hushed words into them. "It means I can take what I want," words simultaneously laced with both intermingled passion and dominance.
