Fight Type: BATTLE
Prize: N/A
Contact Made: YES
Character #1: @ipomoea
Bonded: Odet, Steller’s Jay
Magic: Nature Spirit
Armor: N/A
Weapons: N/A
Current Health: 35
Current Attack: 25
Current Experience: 65
Character #2: @asterion
Bonded: Cirrus, Pallas’ Gull
Magic: Water Manipulation
Armor: N/A
Weapons: N/A
Current Health: 52
Current Attack: 48
Current Experience: 90
Prize: N/A
Contact Made: YES
Character #1: @ipomoea
Bonded: Odet, Steller’s Jay
Magic: Nature Spirit
Armor: N/A
Weapons: N/A
Current Health: 35
Current Attack: 25
Current Experience: 65
Character #2: @asterion
Bonded: Cirrus, Pallas’ Gull
Magic: Water Manipulation
Armor: N/A
Weapons: N/A
Current Health: 52
Current Attack: 48
Current Experience: 90
It is a warm spring day, with a sweet, southerly breeze to refresh the mind and white, pillowy clouds scattered about to decorate the sky. A perfect day, to the naked eye.
But to Ipomoea, the air on the mainland felt noticeably cooler than the air on the island from whence he came. It was like stepping into a different world entirely, one that was considerably dull and lifeless in comparison. Ipomoea had harbored a fascination of the island since the day he first set hoof upon it, marveling at its wonders and allowing himself to be drawn in deeper by its charm each day. The island felt more a home to him now than Novus. Any longer and he might have lost himself within its fantasy, and then he would never have found his way back; so perhaps it is good that he has returned.
The plants of the earth greet him as their old friend as he does, wildflowers blossoming within his hoofprints in streaks of blue and orange and white. Here in his presence, the grasses of the steppe stand up straight and tall, their once dry and broken stalks turning from yellow to green and snapping with youth. All around him the world takes on a little more color, a little more vibrancy - as if Ipomoea has brought a small part of the island back with him.
And over them all the shadow of Veneror looks on like a silent, brooding giant, as if a reminder that the gods, while distant, remain present all the same. But whether they looked on in judgement, or approval, he could not be sure.
He supposes it doesn’t matter in the end.
Once, he may have been nervous walking to the Bellum Steppe with the knowledge that in a matter of hours, he would undoubtedly be walking away with bruised and even bloodied skin. But he has changed since his last visit to the rugged plains.
The Ipomoea who came here today was not the same boy who had come here last winter.
Now he walks with a purpose, flower-crowned head held high despite the trembling that has found a home inside of his ribs. He hides it well now, his fickle heart. He is learning how to be strong, how to be brave
His wings stretch out slowly, gingerly sweeping the ground and stirring the air about his feet. The breeze whistles softly through the steppe, bending the grasses on their long, thin stalks. They shudder and stoop low to the earth - and they begin to whisper. He’s here, they say without words, shivering with barely contained delight. And when Ipomoea looks towards where they point, his rose-colored eyes fall upon the king.
“Asterion,” his voice is as soft as the delicate petals of the flowers that spring to life beneath his hooves. His words are followed by a smile, and he steps forward to meet his opponent. Odet is circling above them, blue wings spread wide, calling out a warbly greeting of his own.
Ipomoea inclines his head subtly, sweeping into a small bow. “Your move.” It is more of a command than a question.
And his wings slowly fold, tucking themselves about his slender, spotted ankles, in preparation of what was to come.
there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
i say, stay in there
don’t be sad
@asterion ! i'd like to apologize in advance
this thread will be full of me figuring out how to write po in battle mode
”here am i!“
