The forest had been her home these past two and a half years. Wren had last left here and not returned and Kindred was determined to find some sign of her tracks, a symbol of her presence. She would not stop until she had located her other half.
They had not been separated like this before - not for this long! Such distance had started to tear at Kindred’s already frayed mind. Each piece shuffled around as she tried to solve the riddle before her. Minutes seemed like hours, days like weeks. Soon she wasn’t even quite sure if it was really day or night, but none of that mattered. She had to find Wren.
The forest blanketed her in the darkness that almost felt as if she were sheltered under Wren’s wing each night and allowed her to get what little sleep her racing mind offered. Yet, her eyes still grew wilder with each rest until she started to lose hold of herself. More and more frequently she clung to her enchanted pendant, reliant upon it to block out the world just long enough for her heart to stop beating from her chest. The patterns grew, compulsive tendencies which fueled the belief that if they were completed Wren would come back to her. What was once used to help cope with the feelings of death as breath escaped her lungs and adrenaline rushed through her veins was now turning into a hindrance.
Did Kindred realize how much these rituals hurt her though? The correct answer would be no, she did not.
Any hope of finding a trail of Wren had long passed, yet as the dawn managed to pull through the tiniest of openings in the forest’s canopy Kindred began her morning routine once more. A deep breath. In, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four. Repeated four more times. Perfectly straighten the bed of leaves into the semi-circle shape so it pushed right up against a nook in the roots of a looming tree. No leaf was allowed out of line for fear that it might cover a necessary track (a track that would most certainly be long gone almost three years later). Walk the same path that produced puddles of rainwater and drink sips in groups of five, careful not to kick any rocks or pebbles out of place. At the same time, she would scavenge for berries or edible brushes. Alas, rain puddles, berries, and brushes did not the best diet make, and even though she religious kept her coat clean one could begin to see her bones protruding along her withers, hips, and ribs.
Once satisfied she had eaten enough to have the energy to continue, she would return to where she slept to begin her search. Twenty sticks had been spread out in a circle around the tree, all jabbed into the ground as a marker for her. Five of them for each direction (north, south, east, and west). Last night she had replaced each of them as she had yanked the last one from the ground before walking straight along it’s line until she could hear the hooting of owls. Today she started at the southern-most stick and pulled it from its home, carefully laying it so that it rested at an angle against the thick root near her make-shift bed. She would walk this line until she heard the sounds of night animals once more.
Please let me find Wren. Please let there be a sign. Please. Please. Please...
Her hooves weren’t as nimble as before due to the lack of nutrition, but she tried her hardest to ensure she left no trace of her movements. Counting five steps, taking a deep breath and searching for anything different that might have been blown in, dug up, or brought to the surface from recent storms. Anything that would let her know Wren had been here. Anything that would allow her to find her (even if she was dead). Count to five. Ignore the ache in her legs. Count to five. Touch the pendent. The world isn’t collapsing around her. Count to five. Examine the new scrapes in the bark and determine it isn’t from Wren. Count to five. Plead to Oriens for a sign of her sister. Count to five. Ignore the taste of salt as tears run down her face. Refuse to stop moving.
It was probably sunset when she tried to turn back, but today she wasn’t able to. She spun on her haunches, a pain in her heart as she realized that she hadn’t even reached the overlapping “x’s” she had scrapped into the tree bark her last time this way. What if there is a sign of Wren further out there?! But it was night. She had to turn back. If she didn’t Wren was sure to be dead. She had to make it back to her leaf bed. Only fifteen steps and her limbs shook. This time it was not fear, it was exhaustion and malnutrition. Her body could not keep moving on. It needed rest. Days of it, with proper food. Five more steps and her rear legs folded under her. Gritting her teeth she tried to push herself back up but her front limbs crumpled under the additional strain.
Please don’t die because I failed. The world needs you...
She tried to accept it. Her nose pressed to the pendent. She’d have to rest here. Tomorrow she’d go back. She’d start over again the day after. She had to. She had to. She had to. She had to. She had to.
I won’t stop until I find you or this world kills me...
share with me the blankets that you're wrapped in
because it's cold outside, cold outside, it's cold outside
Callynite
share with me the secrets that you kept in
because it's cold inside, cold inside, it's cold inside
The night hung heavy like a blanket, wrapping around the doe with a familiarity that came from settling into a pattern; a way of life among Delumine and her citizens. A year now; she'd been carefully building the court up. She'd been trying to encourage others to come. The Spring Festival had been a startling success, and with plans on the horizon for another event; she was more than satisfied with the work she'd been able to put forth thus far into her tenure as queen. So she moved towards the bed where her mate was already dreary-eyed; and squeezed in next to him, taking care of the heavy belly that housed their growing child. Leaning into Huehuecoyotl's side was easy. Settling down is easy. Her eyes had just begun to shut when a sudden ping of alarm, of emergency, reached her; and she jolted up, muttering soft apologies to her mate.
Her gaze was immediately in the direction of Viride Forest; where the energy hummed in a frantic way, calling out for her. Her magic was deeply tied into the very roots, the ley lines of energy that crossed over Delumine, but none was as strong as her connection to that very forest. And now that magic was pulsating with the energy in those lines, desperate for her attention; for her assistance. "Rest Coy, the Forest just needs me for a moment. I'll be fine, and I'll be careful. We both know the forest would never let anything happen to me." She muttered the reassurances, nuzzling her mate back down into the pillows with gentle firmness, not even letting him get the chance to demand to tag along.
She left the citadel quickly, a cloak wrapped tight around her against the chill of a Summer Night; and immediately made her way towards Viride. As if sensing her movements (and perhaps the natural energy; that natural magic could); the thrumming hum of desperation seemed to get wilder. As she moved, her gaze turned a little distant; until she felt like she was seeing two different planes; metaphorically speaking. Her gaze still saw the trees around her; keeping her from running into anything; but her focus drew to the natural plane of energy, where those energy lines flowed. Magic flared out as she touched into it; tapping into those leylines and observing everything she could in it: the peaceful blips of sleeping forest animals, the meanderings of nighttime guards - sorting through the familiar for whatever was out of place.
Finally; she found the source, a flaring sense of energy twisting in chaotic tendrils of pain and weakness, dim against the vibrancy of the energy around it. But it was also where the ley lines were brightest as if lighting the way to whomever the Forest was calling her to assist. Finally with a direction in mind; the doe entered the forest. Instantly her word was alive with those sounds others wouldn't be able to hear. Where some heard the rustling of leaves in the wind; the soft movement of bramble and branches - voices sprang to her mind. The trees leaned towards her eagerly, the grasses clung to her as she passed; and the forest whispered to her about what she would find. Lost Soul. Searching for Days. Weaker. Not Eating Well. Hurry.
It was proof of the situation; the way the plants; the trees who were NOTORIOUS for gossip were so quick to get her going. But she thanked them nonetheless, and she set off faster. It never did feel quite fast enough - but perhaps that was natural when you're racing towards an emergency.
She just needs to go faster.
The lines blare; energy flashing to keep her on the right trail until finally, she sees the figure ahead - down on the ground. The doe slows, keeping her steps light; keep her features peaceful but concerned. Her magic is sent out, the grass growing softer, lighter around her - around this stranger as she approaches, to ease what must be a weary being; Cally was no stranger to how inhospitable areas of the Forest could be for a good night's rest. Though; as she approached to see the withered appearances; of neglectful habits; of less than ideal amounts of nutrition - she was certain this stranger needed more than just rest. The pregnant doe made sure to make enough noise in her approach to letting the other know she was there (not really a hard feat to accomplish when she was carrying the weight of herself and an unborn child; and didn't have her normal dexterity to move silently through her chosen domain). "Excuse me . . ." Her voice is soft, cautious but concerned, "I don't want to disturb you . . . but, are . . . are you alright?" She doesn't explain how she knows to check on the stranger.
She knew explaining that the Forest sent her isn't always the best way to explain her magic. Still, she approaches closer, ignoring the way the trees seem to still bend towards her. How the flowers nestled in for the night, open their petals to her, clinging to her limbs more firmly than the grasses did; eager to touch upon the doe that took up a position of Guardianship for Delumine, for the Forest; for the people. "I do not believe I've seen you around - Or if I have; it must have been in passing . . ." She says it gently, unaccusatory; merely trying to make conversation; to see how with it the other is if she can be able to get her to a safer place than where she collapsed on the forest floor; "My name is Callynite; I'm Sovereign of Delumine." She adds for explanation; "Is there anything I can do to help you . . . ?" Because she didn't think she'd ever seen anyone as desperately needing for help.
And Callynite was never one to back down from helping someone in need.
Especially a Deluminian.
and your slowly shaking finger tips
show that you're scared like me so
Exhaustion cloaked in around her. She was afraid to close her eyes, but the way the edges of her sight were hazing over with a layer of darkness Kindred accepted that she had to for the night. Tomorrow. She’d make it back tomorrow. Perhaps if she just... yes. Her nose pressed against her pendant and the sound of the trees creaking and groaning in the light breeze faded from her senses.
I’ll find you Wren. Tomorrow. I have to...
Her breathing slowed to a point where any who stumbled across her might fear that her lungs had ceased working altogether. Yet, if they waited long enough they would see how her ribs would expand, pressing against her coat to show the ridges along her barrel. Alive, somehow.
She doesn’t know when, but as she faded into a restless sleep her nose slid from the pendant, allowing the sounds of the forest to lull her deeper and deeper into the nightmares. Wren dead. Kindred stumbling upon one of her wings torn off, but no body. Had the energy still existed in her muscles she might have been twitching and whimpering. Alas, at this time all of the energy left was needed to keep her body functioning.
The sound of hooves isn’t what stirred her. No, it was the feeling of the ground getting softer and a delicate voice reaching her ears. “Wr-Wren?” she choked out, eyes blinking as she attempted to pull the world around her back into focus and swat away the dark edges.
No. This wasn’t her. The creature before her wasn’t even obsidian. Five more blinks in rapid succession. A maple coat... not even equine... Am I alright? Kindred didn’t know how to answer that. She knew she’d be fine and Wren would be fine if she kept searching. Each direction. Five steps at a time. She’d find a sign and it would all be better.
Callynite. Sovereign. That didn’t seem right. Oh, did it matter? For the amount of time she’d been sifting through this forest for clues, it wouldn’t surprise her if the regime had changed. “I don’t believe... a doe was... in charge the last time I was within the confines of the court...” she whispers, voice cracked from lack of speech these past two years. “A pegasus maybe...” One could see her mind trying to place who all had been in charge, a name or defining feature. Alas, nothing would really come to her.
Nothing can help me... Unless you know where Wren is...
Kindred tries to lift her head to get a better look at the doe before her, the one thing drawing her in was the emerald cloak strewn across Callynite’s back and tied around her neck. Then, all at once, it hit her. Shit. She was laying down upon meeting the new Sovereign. Awkwardly she tries to pull herself back onto her feet, but it hurts and her joints creak and pop as she stands. How she sounds so much older than the (oh, what was she now?) seven years she’d lived.
She tries to bow, “Kindred, m’lady.” she whispers just as her back legs buckle once more, barely catching herself so her face does not slam into the ground with the weight of her bones. Five deep breaths. In. Two. Three. Four. Hold. Two. Three. Four. Out. Two. Three. Four. The world’s collapsing. She’s in a horrible state for meeting the leader of these lands and Wren is gone. The trees seem to close in and she can hear her heart racing in her ears.
Alone.
“I don’t- I don’t know...” she almost croaks, her voice stuck in her throat and eyes wide. Was there anything the leader of these lands could do to help her when Oriens himself had not allowed Kindred an inkling of hope that Wren had even left this forest... Somewhere inside her she recognized that she needed food and water. She recognized she needed sleep and to care for herself. But her mind wouldn’t let her move past five searches in each direction. Five steps at a time. Five breaths. Five prayers. Five searches.
share with me the blankets that you're wrapped in
because it's cold outside, cold outside, it's cold outside
Callynite
share with me the secrets that you kept in
because it's cold inside, cold inside, it's cold inside
It is with caution that the doe approaches the stranger laid out with in her forest; and she did consider Viride hers - more so than just the claim of the sovereign on the land they ruled. The forest breathed with her; shared her secrets, her thoughts and desires; and like a humming of it's own life; she was deeply intuned to it. And that hum was what refused to be ignored now - the forest was worried, and for that reason Cally would approach to assist. The weak voice that calls out is dizzying, pulled from the eager rest demanded by a body spent past its limit. Whomever this mare was searching for; Cally regretted that she couldn't assist in answering that plea of a name properly.
She doesn't have to deny her appearance; as the mare seems to register quickly she is someone else - so instead she offers introductions - her name; who she is. the other only grows more confused, and her voice is a whisper between them, commenting about it not being a doe last time she had been within the courts; perhaps a pegasus. Cally blinks in alarm. It's startling to hear that; to know she'd been in charge for going into a year now; "How long have you been in this forest?" Her voice is a hushed concern; weary for the answer she fears but expects to receive.
The heavily pregnant queen heaves a sigh, shifting her weight, as the stranger finally turns to look up at her, before seeming to startle, moving to stand, and Cally immediately moves towards her as she attempts a bow, an introduction. Cally instead is there to help catch her; to help steady her. She's moving to her side, that hefty, bloated belly now good for something other than weighing her down, "Easy there; I'm not the sort who requests bowing or honorifics. And you're hardly in the shape to be attempting such movements it seems." All too soon; the queen grows heavy with increased worry.
How long had this being pushed herself to the limits? Limits of malnutrition, exhaustion - was there a risk of dehydration in the mess? This time of year; as the sun shone its hottest; it was possible, and she was suddenly grateful for the late hour that didn't add to their troubles; the forest would protect them from predators anyways.
Cally sighs softly, looking towards the horse who while smaller than she; seems to also be so much smaller; weaker in current state; "Please, allow me the chance to aid you; let you gain your strength. You ventures out into the woods; while maintaining your current state is a dangerous game to play with nature. At the very least, a soft warm bed, a nice meal could do wonders. May I please assist you in regaining your health; and then we can consider options for what ever it is you're out here attempting to accomplish," And perhaps, along the way; Cally can learn who this Wren is; and attempt to discover if they were at fault for the other's condition.
and your slowly shaking finger tips
show that you're scared like me so
How long? How long? Did she know? How long? How long? Long. Definitely long. How long?! Kindred struggles, her brain attempting to parse through the days, weeks, months in groups of five. Her brows furrow eyes hazing over for a moment as her breathing quickens. ”Maybe... two... no...” she pauses, five seconds and fear fills her body as her subconscious yanks a memory to the forefront. ”We were hunting a poacher, or a monster. I was trying to help... Determine if missing parts might be significant...”
Kindred shakes her head, failing to see how the length of time out here even mattered. Wren had gone missing, and now she was afraid whatever had been injuring the creatures of this forest had gotten to her twin as well. She tried to push forward, offering her name and attempting to bow, only to make a further fool of herself as the Queen used her pregnant belly to hold Kindred up. Carefully, she manages to pull herself back to her feet with the support of the doe next to her who is only ever so slightly taller than her. ”Apologies, m’lady...” she says, voice soft and embarrassed.
Still, the sovereign wishes to aid her, the stupid girl who was killing herself slowly in the forest. Her blue eyes look up, finally meeting eyes with Cally as she whispered the next words, ”If I stop looking she’ll die...” Five breaths. ”I couldn’t reach a soft bed if I wanted to at this point...”
Kindred shudders, ”And if I stop, signs of her that blow in could disappear again. I-” No. It was all wrong. Wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Wide eyes peer around, suddenly perturbed by the fact that Cally had been stepping along the path Kindred had trekked through. Cally’s cloven hoof prints littered the path. What if she had trodden down one of Wren’s feathers?! Her heart starts to race, breath faltering as she hears the thudding of her heart in her head.
Messed up.
All wrong.
Her pattern was broken.
Wren can’t be dead, please...
Her ears pin to the side a little in despair as she begins to tremble, tears trapped deep in her throat. They were supposed to be symbols of death for the clan she was born into. They weren’t supposed to die this young...
share with me the blankets that you're wrapped in
because it's cold outside, cold outside, it's cold outside
Callynite
share with me the secrets that you kept in
because it's cold inside, cold inside, it's cold inside
The concern grows by the minute, as the mare struggles with an answer - how long had she been in the forest that she couldn't remember? She tries to explain, about a poacher, or monster. Of missing parts. But her words are fumbling, and Cally moves towards her, gently pressing her muzzle against the other mare's shoulder. The doe felt her worry increasing further. As the other had moved in an attempt to bow, she had stumbled, an action that saw Cally moving quickly to help support her back to her feet, "An apology is not needed. You look unwell." The doe murmured, before being startled when the other commented on stopping looking would lead to the other's death, and Cally frowned deeper, before sighing. "Then we'll rest here for the night." Even as she said it, her magic flared out, the grass in the area growing longer, threading together, making almost an entire clearing of bedding that would be soft and flexible to cradle either female while they slept. "Tomorrow, we can search together." She pauses, before turning towards the tree line, and this time her words addressed someone, something else.
"Keep an eye out." The trees surrounding them seemed to bend in towards the queen, as if to hear her words better, "Any unusual individual in the forest, I want to be alerted to immediately. If you find her, before we do - I expect to be led in the proper direction." The trees moved again, slight shimmering of leaves, of twigs, subtle to most, but to the doe, she heard the voices of the forest assuring her they would let her know immediately. Only then did she encourage the mare to lay down, motioning for her to bed herself in the grass, "Regardless to if you do or do not stop for the night - you will be no good for yourself, or your friend, if you collapse from exhaustion. I am more than happy to assist you, but you must be smart about this. How helpful can you truly be for your friend, if you can barely stand now."
But even Cally could admit to feeling like she was out of her element in this instance.
and your slowly shaking finger tips
show that you're scared like me so
Her mind was swirling, routines turned into compulsions. Requirements for safety were ingrained into her mind day after day for years. So much so it had broken her - torn her into the panicked animal Wren would find should she come back. The only things that had made anything right had been through following the routine and orders given. Now... she had nothing but the compulsive routine she had created for herself. She had told herself she had to look - she had to make sure Wren wasn’t taken by the poacher...
Her wings... her horn... her being. Wren and Kindred were two meant to be one, it would make sense if someone had crossed over that they would take out the stronger of the two. At least, stronger mentally. Should they really be coming... After all this time? Was it even worth it?
No!She couldn’t let herself think like that. Her eyes blinked, brain focusing on the words of searching tomorrow as the exhausted gaze lingered upon her sovereign, barely noticing the feeling of the grass as it seemed to cradle around her limbs. “She’s gone...” she whispered as Cally seemed to address the air. Her mind seemed to be able to understand that... somewhere deep down. It had been too long. Wren wouldn’t be in this forest anymore unless she was dead. But the compulsions told her if she stopped looking that she was certain to be gone. That painful voice in her head preying on her nightmares and forcing her to submission.
Kindred nodded her head solemnly at the facts tossed in her face. She needed rest, that was apparent even if she could feel her heart rate speeding up and tears choking in her throat. She would not cry yet, not until she found her sister’s remains or felt the softness of her feathers against her coat again. Only then were tears acceptable. It burned as she felt her lungs fight the air she was taking in, and slowly she lay down.
“I will sleep, m’lady... thank you...” One could hear the panicked undertones on her strained voice as she allowed her knees to fold into the softness of the grass. Her muscles rippled in slight trembles before pressing her nose to the pendant to drown out every sound except the counting of her thoughts. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Five breaths. Five days. Five Nights at a time. Five minutes. Five hours. Did it matter how much longer she looked?
Slowly, she drifted off to sleep - dreams of Wren returning giving her the strength she needed to keep herself from succumbing to the malnutrition and withering away. Another purpose... another reason. That was what she needed... Now, if only she would allow herself to find it - to drop the pretense of being that bringer of death and accept her desire to nurture life...
Wren... can I do it without you?
--------------------------------
@Callynite - she might take a little more convincing in the morning but she's about able to talk herself out of the search compulsion :D
share with me the blankets that you're wrapped in
because it's cold outside, cold outside, it's cold outside
Callynite
share with me the secrets that you kept in
because it's cold inside, cold inside, it's cold inside
Callynite was worried, her magic seemed to hum beneath her skin over the energy's state with in the body before her. It was chaotic, concerning, alarming. It spoke of panic, of desperation and exhaustion. Frazzled energy fragments that seemed to be weaving from the horned mare's body in a desperate display of being close to the end of useful energy. Sleep was needed to resettle the life force, certainly. Going any further like this was not . . . it was not good for Kindred. And so the doe felt the pressing need to encourage the other to at least rest. Kindred didn't even notice the grasses growing in, her whispered voice speaking up about the individual being gone. While Cally didn't know if that was true . . . Cally was certain that Kindred could do no good in her current state.
She needed to lay down, and it was akin to a breath of fresh air for the doe, when the other finally did so, agreeing softly that she would sleep. Her limbs folding under her, even as her pelt rippled, muscles trembling. Cally moved forward, laying down close enough to be able to brush her muzzle gently through the mane of the other, a reassuring touch, "First thing in the morning, we shall make a plan. But for now, just rest, sooth your thoughts . . ." The queen instructed softly, the faintest hint of a hum, a lullaby being breathed out as she lay, watching over the other, humming gently, soothingly.
In the morning she would focus on getting some food into this mare, perhaps even encourage her to come back to Dawn Court proper. She could send guards to score the forest, but . . . to continue her search like this would do Kindred no good . . . and certainly do no good if Wren, whomever she was; saw Kindred like this . . . Kindred needed medical attention, food, and rest . . . before her journey, her search ended - forever.
and your slowly shaking finger tips
show that you're scared like me so
"Speech" Thoughts
@Kindred Notes: I figured we could probably start wrapping this thread up here, and do a new one for the morning??
let's pretend we're alone
and i know you may be scared
and i know we're unprepared
but i don't care
