Callynite
If any of her former friends saw her now, they might be hard-pressed to recognize her. Not just because she looked a tad unusual, but even if the familiarity in which she handled the bow spoke of who she was, it was a different look to her eye that made the once carefree doe look near terrifying. An odd look for one who once stood tall as a pacifist. Now, however, there is one that she wanted to harm, or perhaps ones is more accurate. Who ever corrupted her being and magic so thusly, she intended to let them pay. Gaining a bow was the first step down that road, and as she handled it, the familiarity of it returned.
Never a warrior, before Cally had always been a mere protector, ready to help defend her friends but preferring to do it with as little cost as possible. Now, that sense was being eroded by the darkness, and as she released the string, watching it snap with an audible crack of air, there's a new thrill to the motion and sound, a new whisper of what she could be if she ventured down that path. The darkness keeps its' distance though, growing so slowly Cally isn't aware of the changes she's making, the strides she's taking further away from who she once was.
In time she'll be thankful of a certain troublesome stallion's playfulness to temper the darkness should it grow to powerful, but for now, she relishes in the power the bow provides. She turns to the mare then when she speaks again, her dual ears turning towards her, and her eyes nearly gleam at the thought, her head held high, as her tiny stub of a doe tail gives a slight wiggle of pent up energy, "I wouldn't be arguing to the idea. Perhaps they are overdue for . . . friendly reminder." Sarcasm had always been a second language for Cally, but the darkness inflicting it wasn't natural to who she had been, another hint to the corruption she felt the longer her connection to her abilities remained cut off. She doesn't bat an eye at the dark sarcasm, however. The doe believes firmly it's due.
There's a change though at the first croak of a frog. Cally hardly notes it, as a single ear twists to catch the sound before dismissing it. It's not until the cries turn into a crescendo crashing around them that the doe turns to watch them start to glow, brighter than anything she'd seen before. Instantly her eyes squeeze shut to blot out the sudden brightness in the dark. It's not until the light infront of her eyelids stops penetrating the thin veil of skin before she opens them again, blinking a few times as she glanced around.
The light and frogs are gone, but the other's bow replaces the light, glowing as if prepping. Instantly Cally's own bow is drawn up, surrounded by the green hue she once remembered her magic being more firmly marked by, and she holds it tightly with her mind, ready for danger, ready for adventure. The other presents the option of following into the darkness where the frogs went first. Cally doesn't answer verbally as she sets forward, her tiny form pushing through the trees with no sound, sliding into the shadows like she was born part of them, her steps finding silent foot falls under a trained eye her father had carefully cultivated. She joined the forest, a spirit slipping from tree to tree, her body blending easily . . . her golden bow the only thing that stood out. In her element once more, but with out the connection, she threw herself all the more deeper into being the silent shadow, her bow ready and held at her shoulder, angled across her body so it doesn't strike anything as she moves, with a found sharp stick already notched to be fired.
"Speech"
@isra . I think we can definitely call this one done. I've got a lot more exploring to do with this darker side of Cally. She's going to be interesting, the more time I put into her . . . and it will be curious, the longer I withhold purchasing her magic for her, just what she becomes.
Never a warrior, before Cally had always been a mere protector, ready to help defend her friends but preferring to do it with as little cost as possible. Now, that sense was being eroded by the darkness, and as she released the string, watching it snap with an audible crack of air, there's a new thrill to the motion and sound, a new whisper of what she could be if she ventured down that path. The darkness keeps its' distance though, growing so slowly Cally isn't aware of the changes she's making, the strides she's taking further away from who she once was.
In time she'll be thankful of a certain troublesome stallion's playfulness to temper the darkness should it grow to powerful, but for now, she relishes in the power the bow provides. She turns to the mare then when she speaks again, her dual ears turning towards her, and her eyes nearly gleam at the thought, her head held high, as her tiny stub of a doe tail gives a slight wiggle of pent up energy, "I wouldn't be arguing to the idea. Perhaps they are overdue for . . . friendly reminder." Sarcasm had always been a second language for Cally, but the darkness inflicting it wasn't natural to who she had been, another hint to the corruption she felt the longer her connection to her abilities remained cut off. She doesn't bat an eye at the dark sarcasm, however. The doe believes firmly it's due.
There's a change though at the first croak of a frog. Cally hardly notes it, as a single ear twists to catch the sound before dismissing it. It's not until the cries turn into a crescendo crashing around them that the doe turns to watch them start to glow, brighter than anything she'd seen before. Instantly her eyes squeeze shut to blot out the sudden brightness in the dark. It's not until the light infront of her eyelids stops penetrating the thin veil of skin before she opens them again, blinking a few times as she glanced around.
The light and frogs are gone, but the other's bow replaces the light, glowing as if prepping. Instantly Cally's own bow is drawn up, surrounded by the green hue she once remembered her magic being more firmly marked by, and she holds it tightly with her mind, ready for danger, ready for adventure. The other presents the option of following into the darkness where the frogs went first. Cally doesn't answer verbally as she sets forward, her tiny form pushing through the trees with no sound, sliding into the shadows like she was born part of them, her steps finding silent foot falls under a trained eye her father had carefully cultivated. She joined the forest, a spirit slipping from tree to tree, her body blending easily . . . her golden bow the only thing that stood out. In her element once more, but with out the connection, she threw herself all the more deeper into being the silent shadow, her bow ready and held at her shoulder, angled across her body so it doesn't strike anything as she moves, with a found sharp stick already notched to be fired.
"Speech"
@isra . I think we can definitely call this one done. I've got a lot more exploring to do with this darker side of Cally. She's going to be interesting, the more time I put into her . . . and it will be curious, the longer I withhold purchasing her magic for her, just what she becomes.
