Dawn Court held many things, but sometimes... one needed a break. Ptolema found herself in the Eluetheria Plain, as she had many times before, grasses attempting to tickle through thick feathering on her legs, catching and pulling on the hairs gently. The large mare made her way through the thickest parts of it, feeling tall grass on her belly (unusual, considering her height), before she finally came to a stop near a bubbling stream. It wasn't that fast, or deep, and she stepped forward slowly, mostly to submerge her hooves in it and duck her head, allowing her lips to touch the moving surface and smiling against the cool liquid.
Her reflection looked back at her, the soft bumps on her nose and the mess of her mane wild around her head. She looked tired, but she also felt tired; it had been a tough day when she had helped a sick patient earlier. They had rested well though, once she had finished helping, and she had sighed and made her way here. Pregnancy was common for her to see where one would be sick, it came with it. She couldn't help but suddenly frown a little to herself at the thought, orange eyes closing as she drew her head up, and absently lifted a hind leg to scratch at her belly.
She could never conceive, herself. Cursed in the wrong body at birth, it was something she constantly seemed to fight with. Some days she was happy, others... well. Other days reminded her how she had been born, and she loathed it.
Shaking her head, she dropped her hind leg with a splash, huffing out instead and trudging a little further up the stream, to a deeper part. That didn't matter. It didn't matter if she would never carry a foal herself, she could still help raise them and help them grow. Help the orphaned ones toughen up a little and dote on them when they were sleepy.
She was fine the way she was. She would change for no one.
It had been some time since Somnus had ventured through the rich grassland. His last venture earlier in the season had him encountering a member of the Day Court, a meeting which had left an odd taste in his mouth and a less than ideal representation of what sort of inhabitants called Solterra home. He hoped, rather contemptuously, that he would not encounter another one any time soon.
Deciding to ignore such sour memories, the golden tactician instead turned his attention upon the present. The supple grassland was just as he recalled from his first visit; vast and bountiful, despite the heat and dryness of the summer months. The peak of Mount Veneror still stood proudly to the south like a beacon of majesty, and that same, incessant tug at his flaxen breast seemed to pull him ever onward to it. Beckoning. Calling. Soon, he promised himself, soon. Soon he would venture the heights of the mighty mountain, to see for himself what awaited at the top. Perhaps, should they feel amicable enough, he could hope to persuade Ulric and perhaps even miss Florentine to join him. For now, however, he was content to stroll the grounds of the Eleutheria Plains and take in the land for what it was, astute verdant depths absorbing the world around him with a keen eye.
It was through his aimless wanderings that Somnus found himself at the same river at which he had paused to quench his thirst upon his last visit, and just as before, he did so again. Elegantly the strategist lowered his head, lipping at the cold and refreshing water before allowing himself to indulge in a drink. Every move he made was poised, prepared, as though eyes were always watching. Living as he had, in the company of a passionate King and under the scrutiny of judgmental nobles, serving as a royal chamberlain and advisor, had ingrained propriety into the very essence which made Somnus what he was. It would never change.
Straightening, the dunalino gentleman lifted his head, and only then did he spot another downstream. Ah. It appeared that he was not the only creature seeking a drink amidst such a day. Allowing rich amber wings to stretch and feathers to ruffle, Somnus pulled himself from the shoreline. Amicably he ventured downstream, his pace leisurely and unhurried. The stranger was a massive collection of muscle and hair, woven together beneath a tapestry of thick black locks and monochromatic hues stricken in patchy, cracked markings. Standing far above Somnus' own height, the stranger was a looming behemoth, but the way that they stared forlorn into the stream as though the waters withheld any answers they sought was troublesome.
"... Pardon the intrustion," Somnus began, the elegant lilt of his accent soft and soothing despite the suddenness of his inquiry, "Are you quite alright?"
@Ptolema
"There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man; true nobility is being superior to your former self."
Well at least one of us has cooled off. Don't think it's me. Oh no. I'm still hella pissed. But Damaris here, she's seemed to temper her fury. How, I don't know. Despite being free, seeing Reichenbach.... I haven't finished blowing off steam. (If you want to call it that.) Damaris keeps well behind me, because she's not a freaking moron. She knows better than to mess with me when I'm angry. Not that I would ever hurt her but I generally don't like to be touched or reasoned with when I can't think straight. I sense her wanting to say something and glance back at her with a withering glare. The silence between us grows heavier as she rethinks her plan.
Luckily I'm not quite so bad as to stomp like an angry child through the plains. (Speaking of which, how did I get here? I don't remember heading this direction.) I stop at the edge of a creek, staring at it's happy bubbling. Not staring - glaring. Why does it get to be happy when I'm so angry? A stupid thing to think of course, but I can't help myself; the thoughts come unbidden. But then I hear a sound to my left, and I look downstream to find I am not alone. (Though probably I am alone in all of this pent-up rage that refuses to leave my system.)
One of them I recognize. Somnus, the golden pegasus from Delumine, stands there appearing to converse with another... someone. I only heard the sound of his voice, not the words nor the intention. And I certainly don't recognize... well it's a strange looking horse. Huge, much larger than myself, and hairy as fuck. It reminds me of Beowulf from Helovia, except the hair is less all-over and more focused on the legs, fetlocks and... well that's definitely a mane. And a strange mask upon the equine's face. Curiosity bests my rage, and I walk toward them, trying a little harder to keep my hoofbeats less stomp-y. Damaris trails behind again, not getting too close to any of us and remaining silent. I let out an awkward snort in greeting followed by a gruff.. "Somnus... Hairy beast." What else do I call him? (Him? The scent is not definitive.) Not my best greeting but what the fuck do I care. I'm pissy.
She wasn't alone with her thoughts for long, which was a good thing really. Ptolema didn't like her mind to wander off like it did, didn't like remembering times that made her feel like her skin was too tight or that she was some sort of phantom in a body that wasn't hers.
The voice jarred her from where her eyes had glued themselves to the reflection, and she tore her gaze away, turning her head and ruffling her mane in the process. Pto opened her mouth, only to close it again as muscles puckered above her eyes, brows knitting together thoughtfully, in a way. This one looked familiar, and he was certainly one of the ones she'd seen about the Dawn Court, though the name escaped her.
"Oh, yes. Yes, I'm fine. Just a little lost in my thoughts." Her voice was a bit odd, but at least it held warmth, and a smile graced her lips as she pulled herself together. "You must be from the Dawn Court, I'm certain I've seen your handsome self around there more than once during my caretaking duties," she mused, smiling and giving a small wink in the process.
The flirty demeanor didn't last much longer though, with the arrival of someone. A rude someone. Immediately, her ears drew back and she turned herself to face the stranger, snorting out. " Excuse you, I happen to have a name. I also happen to have a species and a gender, so I reckon you better use them. I'm Ptolema, a horse and a female at that." Her teeth almost bared, but she would have no qualms in essentially sitting on top of whoever this was and flattening him in to the mud of the banks.
Everything happened rather quickly. In one moment Somnus was greeting the stranger cordially, who returned his words with genuine interest and vague recognition. Ah, a member of the Dawn Court, then? The golden tactician had a moment to internally chastise his lack of foresight, to try and place this giant's scent with that of his home amidst the Citadel, before another had joined their abrupt little get together.
The dunalino gentleman turned his head, watching with keen verdant eyes as Rostislav stalked closer. He greeted Somnus in a way that was to be expected given their rather new knowledge of one another, short and curt, and the former chamberlain couldn't help but notice just how very stressed Rostislav seemed to be. Damaris, the hellhound, seemed to be free of whatever ailed her bond-mate, but before Somnus could ask, Rostislav was going on and addressing the third member of their riverside meeting.
Pardon? 'Hairy beast?' Hardly a professional greeting, by any means, and it was nothing like the meeting that Rostislav had bestowed upon he and Ulric when they had first encountered the robust draft. The monochromatic stranger seemed very inclined to agree, and Somnus was honored enough to witness the following chastise with raised brows and an interested flick of the ear.
Ptolema was the stranger's name, who claimed that... She was a female? Well, then. Masculine features and male genetalia aside, Somnus could accept that. If they, Ptolema, was female and said as much, then who was he to argue? Surely she knew her body better than anyone else.
"Now, now, my good lady, I highly doubt that such drastic action would be necessary. Hm?" Here, Somnus' piercing gaze flicked to Rostislav to judge the stallion's reaction, as well as try and predict his next course of action. With Ptolema's vast size, there was no doubt in the tactician's mind that she could, indeed, flatten him into the earth with a timely sit. "Forgive him. Rostislav merely seems a bit off today." And in quite the way. Perhaps, given time, he could coax the reason out of the draft's lips, but for now? He wouldn't judge. Everyone had their daemons.
Looking back to Ptolema, Somnus flashed her a charming, witty smile. "A pleasure, Ptolema. My name is Somnus, Sage of the Dawn Court. Odd, isn't it? We serve the same Court and here we are, naught but strangers. My apologies for not meeting your acquaintance sooner." Then, he regarded the Night Court member, and hoped that he would not develop a crick in his neck from all of the back-and-forth. "I hope you and Damaris have fared well, Rostislav. We're all the warmer for your presence."
@Ptolema @Rostislav - So sorry for the wait, you two! <3
"There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man; true nobility is being superior to your former self."
Please tag Somnus in all replies!
10-15-2017, 06:38 PM - This post was last modified: 10-15-2017, 06:50 PM by Somnus
Morrigan grinned, a bestial thing that almost seemed feral, as she thundered across the plains with her legs a blur beneath her. The ground was chewed up by the mares' hooves as she propelled herself forward, pushing limits and losing herself to the wind roaring in her ears. Hair flowed behind her in the breeze and the sun shined upon soft, glimmering fur, which was now slick with sweat as she weaved her way smoothly through a herd of bison, a wicked laugh escaping at the sound of their shocked grunts. Moving her focus from the startled animals to the magnificent view before her, Morrigan began to slow, the tall grass beneath her brushing her hocks softly. Veneror loomed in the distance, silent and imposing in all its glory, with clouds swirling around the rocky peak as if the gods themselves were converging there. Noticing that she had stopped completely and allowed a look of awe to slip onto her face, she shook herself out and began a slow, loping canter to a nearby river, eager for some refreshment.
Once Morrigan reached the rivers' edge, she walked in slowly, savoring the feeling of the cold water soothing her sore muscle, and after huffing a sigh, she lowered her muzzle to the surface and drank deeply. However, as she was satisfying her parched throat, snatches of conversation floated own the river and she raised her head, her ears pricked. Following the sounds, she pushed her way silently upstream, curiosity besting her need for water and solitude. As the voices became clear enough to make out words, Morrigan barked out a soft laugh as she recognized her own warden, and heard his greeting of "Hairy beast" to someone. Rounding a corner, she laid eyes on the conversing equines and smiled at the indignant reply of a particularly intimidating figure whose body was a mountain of feathers, muscle, and unique designs. Past the large female was a dunalino stallion with wings that sent a twinge of jealousy running through Morrigan. Listening to his attempt at peace-making and introduction, she crossed the final distance and came to a stop beside Rostislav with a grin on her face. "Ignore this gruff beast, I bet he's grumpy because he hasn't had a fuck or fight today, that or his flask is empty." Twisting her head round to Rostislav she smirked "All of which are things I'd enjoy helping you with" She was undeterred by the fact they had never really met before but it occurred to Morrigan that she should probably introduce herself, to both Rostislav and the other equines here. Bending her front left knee lightly and dipping, she did a mock bow that caused her hair to cascade over her face. Flicking back her mane as she rose before speaking "Morrigan, a night court warrior, it's pleasure to meet you all" Her lilting voice was soft and sharp at the same time and a faint accent rolled her r's slightly.
Morrigan's speech Other's speech
Im very rusty so excuse how bad this is x.x
I suppose it was right of this hairy, feathery Ptolema to scold me as such. Although I didn't mean any insult toward her, I could have been nicer than I had been. Despite the apology that lurks in my mind, I snort softly at her reply. Stomp me into the mud if you want, I've had worse days. I hear a secondary scolding immediately in my mind. Considering our most recent adventure I would think you would want to make friends, not enemies. She's right of course, but I'm not about to admit that. Fuck that. Still, I maintain my silence as Somnus goes about introducing himself and apologizing for me. Normally I wouldn't want anyone speaking for me, but since I don't really feel like apologizing maybe that's for the best. 'A bit off.' I suppose that is technically accurate, if not an understatement. Still, I can't help but think maybe Somnus got the wrong impression of me as some noble sort that is just so polite.
Don't get me wrong, I can be polite and sweet and gentlemanly and all those things. But that's not necessarily my normal state of being. I'm one of those 'rough around the edges' bastards. Damaris and I approach a little closer to Somnus and Ptolema, with a little extra hesitation on my part. No need to get trampled after all. When Somnus speaks to us again Damaris barks happily in return, wagging her tail slightly.
But it seems like only seconds later someone else joins us. A wild woman appearing out of nowhere - an ombre beauty with quite the sass, as it soon appears. She stops beside me, and I cock my head to the side, eyeing her. My nostrils flare as I take in her scent, identifying the refreshing coolness of Denocte. She immediately speaks like she knows me, and I cock a brow then, completely befuddled at how she knows me when I don't know her at all. And how WELL she knows me. Yes, a fuck or a fight would do me well. Or get completely plastered. I could probably do with some of Oxy's locoweed to boot. I chuckle as the stranger continues to talk.
Her offer to help me with fighting OR fucking tangles up all thought in my skull. Enough that I barely hear her announce herself as Morrigan, a Night Court warrior. I snort again, but my brain is moving about 5 seconds behind everyone else. A warrior - no wonder she knows who I am. And a horrible Warden I am for not knowing her -- even if it is isn't my fucking fault. "Well met." The corners of my lips twitch as I eye her, before turning my attention back to Somnus and Ptolema. "I apologize for my name-calling, Ptolema. Somnus is right - I'm not quite myself, though I can't pretend to be a good gentleman even when I am feeling myself." I chuckle a little more lightheartedly then, and dip my crown in apology.
WC: 500 Tag: @Ptolema @Somnus @Morrigan I'm SO SORRY for the wait!! Please don't hate me Rosti thoughts | "Rosti speech" | Damaris mindspeak
An ear twitched toward the golden boy, and Ptolema turned her head toward him, blinking orange red eyes and letting out a huff as she shook her head, and her great mane ruffled up around her, braids and jewelry fluttering. "It's not drastic if he deserves it. Ya don't get to just be rude to someone and not expect some sort of consequence." Pto snorted and lifted her head up, regarding the horned man and curling her lip slightly, just a little. It wasn't a snarl, but there was still a gleam of annoyance that seemed to flicker and settle over her.
It was then, that someone else joined them, one that carried the same scent as the horned bugger, and Pto regarded this one carefully, her posture straightening a little and the annoyance still crawling down her spine at being called a name. Granted, she had no reason to hold a grudge, it wasn't her way, but she'd knock the other on his ass if she had the opportunity to get even. Rolling her eyes at the mare's words, Pto shook her head, feeling more good natured than anything at such words.
"It wouldn't surprise me. Isn't that what makes most males operate now anyway?" she drawled. She meant no offense to Somnus however, and her head turned toward him, regarding him with more of a kindness and curiosity. From her own court and yet they'd never met, how silly. "I tend to get myself a little more involved with the caretakers, so I'm not seen all that often. Apologies," she offered, her lips twitching in to a slight smile.
A shift of her eyes, and she was glancing at the other male from Denocte, letting out a sharp huff. "Next time you oughta hold your tongue before uttering something like that. For all you know, I could've been some sort of violent thing and sat on you." Despite the words, her tone was a little warmer, an acceptance of Rosti's apology.
