[AW] well, reckon, play the fool [relic hunt]

[Vincent]

cost you to keep me quiet

 
Weak mortals they were, chasing fables spilled from the mouth of a child.  And Vince was just as gullible.  He had no idea what power the relic might possess, though he surmised that even the slightest possibility of granting him immortality was well worth shuffling around the island for.  What better gift from the God of Time?  If there was anything Vince so desired to possess, it was just that.  Another trump card to play at his leisure, tucked tightly away with all his other secret ploys to escape a death he most certainly knew he deserved.  Dying was a rather unpleasant experience, as he recalled, and he wasn’t very fond of doing it again. 
 
His aging, disabled body was only a reminder of that inevitability.  He became more aware of it now.  The taste of blood on his tongue that never ceased, yet never drained him.  Mutilated ears that couldn’t twist or turn to hear his surroundings no matter how hard he willed them to.  This was the perpetual state of his existence, a cumbersome body his own overgrown pride could barely mask the loathing for.  He did not walk, no the beast shuffled through the forest, overgrown and mangled with vines where eager hooves had not yet touched it.  His own blood red ones snapped branches and smothered leaves, dragging up the dirt where his disfigured foreleg merely tagged along as dead weight.  Stealth was certainly not his asset any longer, but he could admit that he had plenty of charms to make up for it. 
 
Of course…none came to mind that very moment, but they were there—he could assure you.
 
 
Ooc // Vince is much more amusing when he has company.
 
 

[Below Zero]

Below Zero

my frost philosophy will put no curse on me

Was it foolishness that had her returning to the island, or was it a bid for something bad to truly happen? Could it be her take on tempting fate (or perhaps tempting Tempus, as it's said it is his island she keeps frolicking to). As it was, Below Zero seemed incapable of truly staying away. Call her a glutton for the adventure, or perhaps just too determined for her own safety and luck to hold out. But once again her hooves quietly clomped against the lava rock, before it slowly turned to sand as she hit the beach. Her steps were light, more graceful in the familiar ground for beneath her hooves. On the beach, the water lapping at the sand at her side she felt more peaceful and in her element. A lady of the sea who lived on land sounded like a start to a fairy tale, but it was the life the Treader tended to live. Bel's dual set of eyes took in the land, her fore eyes doing a slow sweep up the beach side, even as her second set seemed to scout out trouble.

She glanced down at the trudged up sand that spoke of others traveling the area lately, and a few even seemed to be pacing the beach. It seemed silly to her, all of these individuals who wanted to find the secrets, but dare not step into the forest. That was where the secrets remained. She immediately picked up her place, her form moving with a grace that came partially from the setting she was in, and partially from the way her body only showed the faintest of movement of muscles, she tended to be made up of gentle curves and smoothness than notable muscular design; thanks to the thick blubber protecting her body from the chills of her original arctic home. She slipped easily into the forest with a familiarity of someone who'd transverses it frequently in the recent weeks of the island's arrival. She didn't make it far in before the unfamiliar sounds of shuffling hit her ears.

Instantly the mare was on guard, her finned spine tensing as the vapors trailing from her body cooled in an attempt to bring her comfort. Was it a slinking cat looking for its' next meal? Perhaps a giant bird with a taste for aquatic-equine flesh? Or a shark that learned to walk on land! All options felt like a horrible possibility! She inched forward though, peering through the brush, pushing through the foliage and instantly freezing. Of the possibilities she had imagined, a zombie hadn't been one of them! She stared in shocked horror as she stared down the creature, uncertain how to react or what to do. She blinked slowly, first the fore set of eyes, than the second set of eyes, taking in his appearance of exposed muscular tendons, seemingly missing and rotting fleshed, disfigurement. Her voice came out almost squeakily, "Uhm, are . . . are you alright?" Well, it sounded better than 'how are you alive.'

She took a deep gulp of air, breathing in deeply before trying to put on a friendly face and not advertise her concern for the individual in front of her. Was he getting help? Dear goodness, was there any help for him? He looked like something left of a shark attack! "Oh, uhm, my name is Below Zero, or Bel; really. What are - I mean, er; who are you? But, uh, really, are you okay. I don't mean, er, I don't wanna be rude, or anything . . . Uhm, it's just . . . you uh . . . are you a zombie?!" Her eyes widened as she rapidly shook her head, backing up a half step in shock at the words that had left her, "Er, I mean . . . I'm sorry that was so rude! I meant . . . er . . . oh, starfish! I'm sorry I'm blubbering like a guppy . . . I just haven't quite met someone with your . . . er . . . appearance?" shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up. "Not that you look, er; totally horrible or anything . . . I mean I've seen shark attacks that look a little worse . . . not that you look like a shark attack victim that much . . . ." shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, "Really, I mean . . . er, well you do have some . . . missing fleshy bits and such, and . . . you're not in pain are you . . . ?" Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, "You are alive right. Oh, of course you are, you are walking about and everything, and even a zombie is kinda alive . . . you aren't a zombie though right? Or maybe you are? Do land-horses become zombies? Are there even such a thing of Zombies? I don't think the ocean has anything similar. Though we do have some odd creatures of our own like dragonfish or anglerfish that seem to glow up their own skeletons. Some fish are even fully see-through to their skeleton . . . uhm, though you're not quite like that . . . and I . . . should really just learn to stop talking." Where was a good coral reef to bury herself in?

She kept her muzzle firmly shut at this point, half expecting some kind of very violent outburst from the older stallion - something she was certain she deserved . . . oh why couldn't she control her mouth when she felt out of her element. Why couldn't she be the type who went quiet when they felt awkward and uncertain, why did her filter have to fail her, and her words never stop. Oh goodness, what if the zombie decided to eat her now? Wait, is he a zombie though, "So are you a zombie then." OH SHUT UP. Her mouth closed quick again, wincing as she firmly kept it closed. Way to make a first impression, it was as bad, if not worse than meeting Asterion.


Thoughts
Speech
@'Vincent' @Random Events
Please forgive her tendency to get super, super talkative when embarrassed/unnerved/awkward/etc. She'll smooth out . . . maybe . . . at some point.

i feel no cold, i feel no fear inside my mind
Now I'm full of energy

[Vincent]

cost you to keep me quiet

 

They were full of themselves, these treasure hunters.  Each one believed himself worthier than the last for the Gods’ grace.  They had nothing but blind devotion to give in return for all of the Gods many favors and thought that was enough to satisfy beings of supreme power.  The gods who make the sun set and rise again, the gods who make mountains rise and oceans fill up with the only life source that gives the mortals their lives.  Oh, he envied the Gods!  He would make the masses do more than worship him if he were given a throne among the heavens.  He would enslave them, make them build monuments and sacrifice their young.  Make them prove their worth, not simply sit idle and toss gifts unto their ungrateful realm every now and again.
 
Gods deserved their bone-rattling fear more than love.
 
But only the mortal who was most undeserving to be one would believe that.  Vincent had a wicked vantage on every philosophical item.  It was unclear what made him that way, as it certainly wasn’t dying and living again.  He was blind to the sheer amount of love it had taken a God to give him a second chance in life.  But surely there was a reason to it.  He thought so.  Something awaited him on the horizon, a turn of luck reaching for him as he reached for it.  He was destined for great, and likely horrible, things.
 
For now, he was simply mortal and shambling after a fabled relic.  This had to be the precipice of the dredges, the moment just before he crossed on to something higher.  Only time stood in his way.
 
And a mare.
 
His sharp eyes caught her emerging from the forest before him, the familiar signs of shock worn like a cloak over her magnificent body.  What a fortunate turn of events this was.  Vince certainly appreciated female companionship as much as any brute, it was just a shame that the ladies never reciprocated the feeling. 
 
Two sets of eyes were affixed on his figure, both clear-water blue and entranced by whatever crippling emotion had overtaken her.  Shock—certainly.  Fear—most likely.  Curiosity—oh there was surely some of it there or else her adrenaline would have kicked in by now to steal her away from his view.  She seemed quite the feral thing herself, clean and preened to perfection perhaps, but beastly nonetheless.  And a beast of a much different kind than he ever seen before, that was certain.  At first, he mimicked the dance of her eyes—his own glossing over every inch of her, trying to decide exactly what it was that he was in the presence of. 
 
Suddenly, the poor thing was fumbling through a flurry of words, one thought chasing another as they spilled in to his crooked ears.  She seemed so very nervous, which only delighted Vincent.  He waited patiently, listening to the melody of her rambling all the while deciding just what to do about her.  The chatter told him much about her; some he could have guessed by her appearance—she certainly looked much better suited for water so hearing her talk of the ocean did not surprise him.  She had fins that leapt up between her marble white horns and trailed down her spine in to a delicate tailfin.  What a curious little creature she was!  And so delightfully pure and sweet.  His favorite kind.
 
When she finished, either because she ran out of thoughts or out of breath, he took a step toward her—head low and his footfall slow and gentle, so as not to alarm her.  Then, quite effortlessly, he fell in to a character that pleased him greatly to play. “Oh now, don’t be nervous, precious.”  Vince cooed at her, his vocals smooth and as deep as the chasm of his conscience. “I am no such thing as a ‘zombie’, merely a poor fool who has been sadly mistreated by the world.  I couldn’t harm a mouse, let alone eat the flesh of a beautiful creature such as yourself.” There was some truth to that; for even Vince, cannibalism would have to be a new low  He did find it rather thrilling to tear in to another’s flesh, however, if only for the guttural shrieking that it caused. 
 
But not hers.  There was something quite decadent about her ivory skin, like a virgin snow in the moonlight.  And with an innocence like hers, he thought her mind would be a much better toy with which to delight in.  “I fear I’m not long for this world, sweet Bel.  Would it be alright if I called you that?” He stole another step in her direction, where he caught her heavenly scent as he inhaled.  Day in and day out, he only inhaled the scent of death.  She was quite literally a breath of fresh air. 
 
His gaze pressed in to hers, hungry for help.  “I surmise only the relic can save me now.” He added with feigned weakness in his shaking voice, pleading for her to buy his lies.
 
@Below Zero | ooc // BEL. IS. A. DOLL!
@Random Events

[Below Zero]

Below Zero

my frost philosophy will put no curse on me

There was something off about this stallion, something about the way he stood there staring her down. Something about the way he watched, the way he seemed so keen . . . she felt like a small fry in front of a large predator . . . yes, that was it, it was the feeling of being stared at by a shark as if it was trying to decide if it was hungry enough to have to go into chase. She prayed she was wrong, that this . . . odd . . . large-fanged . . . rugged . . . . heavily decomposed . . . . thing wasn't a predator after a pound of flesh. He could definitely fit the part. Oh, for the breath of Poseidon, what if he was a zombie and she was the next creature he'd devour the brain of! She wouldn't taste very good, surely too salty! Maybe she should mention that to fend him off.

Still he seemed intrigued to a level, though Bel was far to lost in the worries that she had predator on her fin to think he might be after anything else. Perhaps it was her innocence, her naivety, or her lack of knowledge of other land-based horses and their beliefs, behaviors, and actions; but she feared she was facing down a shark . . . she just was assuming it was the wrong kind of shark. His voice came out as a coo as he seemed to take a step towards her, steps slow, gentle, as if being cautious of alarming her. Her eyes still watching him clearly, or at least the foremost set, the smaller set was still keeping a scan on the world surrounding them, aware of the dangers this forest offered in, of itself. At the moment she still considered it to be the greater danger.

He then spoke reassuringly, informing he was most certainly not a zombie, just a poor fool who'd been mistreated. Perhaps it was those words that had the mare narrowing her eyes ever so faintly. Sure he looked to be roughed up, but it was rarely the world who mistreated the individual without cause. Things typically had a cause and effect. Let a shark get too close to you, you lose a fin. Let an orca with in chewing distance, you lost a limb, let the herd decide your sister was a health hazard, be forced to leave her behind. Everything had a cause, and any cause that led to his appearance likely wasn't from a 'sad mistreatment' from the world. She hesitated for a moment, asking in a quick rush of breath, "Wait, what happened to be so . . . mistreated." Perhaps the story would lead her to an explanation of his appearance.

He continued to reassure however, as she carefully continued to bite her tongue, even as more questions seemed to cycle through her head. Wouldn't harm a mouse, let alone eat the flesh of a beautiful creature like she. Her frown deepened slightly as she tilted her head to the side, noting his previous use of the term precious either. She wasn't the sort to have had fanciful words directed her way, not since her own time with her species. A few had flirted in hopes of a bond to be form, but Bel's heart belonged to the sea, and to the adventures and discoveries exploring could lend to - and the stories she'd share over what her finds had been.

She wasn't sure what his angle might be, why he seemed to feel that delicate words would be needed to draw her in. His words continued, calling her sweet Bel this time, speaking of not being long for the world and asking permission to use her common nickname. She nodded once, the motion halting and hesitant even as she kept her fore-eyes locked on him. Another step had been made at some point, leaving him closer again than before, when had he moved? His eyes bore into her, as he seemed to finally give a clue to what he wanted, speaking of a relic that would likely be the only item to save him.

She was still silent, her gaze sweeping over him, judging his words as much as his actions, and her own uncertainty in the situation she found herself in. She didn't know this stallion, she didn't know his story, only what he deemed to share. He wanted his health returned, thinking this relic would do it. He wanted her help, that was certain. But why her, why should she help. She wasn't even after the relic, she was after the real secret of the island, out to discover the reason, the cause of the heaviness and discomfort it gave to her and others' she'd spoken to.

Bel shifted, one limb to the other as she eyed the male, trying to figure out what to say, how to say it with out turning it into another rambling of chaotic, de-railed trains of thoughts. The hoard of words weren't to be saved and tucked back, however, and before long they were falling from her muzzle in serenade fitting the sea, "Why do you think the relic would help? What is so special about this relic. I'm afraid I know nothing about it, my time on the island has been spent on another matter. There are darker secrets buried in the sands of this place, and I'm after what those might be. The relic seems to be more of a distraction than anything else, drawing the attention away from the real dangers of this island. You're more likely to succumb to the beasts, the predators of this land, than to find the fabled artifact." Her words were less of rambling embarrassment, but still rambling none-the-less.

She suddenly remembered his earlier words before, and this time her eyes finally did relax a touch, her breath escaping her in a soft, fluttering sigh, "Oh bless the luck starfish, thank goodness! I was so worried you were a zombie! I was trying to figure out how to convince you I'd be to salty to eat anyway. Or at least I would assume I would be, being a creature of the oceans and saltwater. It's the only thing I could think of, anyway to convince a zombie not to eat me!" She gushed in obvious relief, shaking her head lightly, before frowning, "And you can of course call me Bel, everyone does. But you don't need to call me precious or sweet or anything. That's just odd." She added, before tilting her head and glancing at him again, "And I'd still recommend not chasing the artifact of this island. Perhaps you should talk to a healer? I know of one in Dawn Court! His name is Lasair, and he's really, really smart about healing and stuff. He might be able to help you?" She offered as another choice, her eyes earnest and sincere. It would help him, and keep him safer from the darkness this island hid. A darkness not even her nightly glow could shed light on.



Thoughts
Speech
@'Vincent' @Random Events
She can't quite decide what to make of him. Her rambling is a bit better, but still there. So she's relaxing a touch. :)

i feel no cold, i feel no fear inside my mind
Now I'm full of energy

[Vincent]

cost you to keep me quiet

The little bit of light that pierced through the veil of leaved branches that hung over them danced across their figures.  Mostly, it danced across hers, refracting against the delicate white of her coat and making the blue etchings in her flesh appear to move like the sprigs of a willow.  He drank her in, ever observant to the subtle movements of her body.
 
He read others well, usually.  Vince had to in order to survive this long in life without many other merits to thrive with.  What he read in her was a kindness that humored him, but a wisdom that did not give in to belief entirely.  Her delicate lips fell and Vince knew he needed to perfect his performance if he was going to con the girl out of pitied labor.  At least she remained curious enough to ask just how he had been mistreated by the world, so he wasn’t calling the façade quits just yet.  He had long since developed a repertoire of stories to tell.  It was only a matter of deciding which one.
 
“It is my own fault, I suppose…” He confessed, oozing hopelessness.  “I took my daughter out to the canyons, not far from our home and yet beyond its safety.  I wanted her to learn how to survive the desert, to learn where food, water, and shelter could be found in the most desolate of places.  I shouldn’t have taken her so far out alone, where the wild dogs roved in packs.  I suppose I never thought they’d come upon us so quickly, in such a large group at that…I’m still not sure how many there were.  I just…”  He forced his eyes shut, tucking his head in and biting back whimpers. “I shouldn’t have been the one to survive…maybe I deserve this…maybe…”  Vince shook, a weak shudder visibly moving his shoulders.  The pity card was his best, preened from years of getting his way through depreciative behavior.
 
“Vivienne…” Her name came out as a whisper.  The daughter who bore it, the real one, he had been estranged from since she was a filly.  He would not feel a loss if the tragedy he wove had happened and he surmised that she would feel the same way about him.  She did even back then before she grew up tall, lean, and with a wit with an uncanny sharpness to his own.  Vince blinked away the fictionalized sadness, drawing his eyes back up to hers and pressed his gaze in to her own.  Empathy was a disease and he believed she was afflicted with it. 
 
With a sigh, he redirected. “Dear Bel, I’m afraid I know so little of the relic except that the Tempus himself has gifted it to this island.  When you are hinging on the edge of death, you grasp at strings.  I’m desperate to find it, desperate not let this disgusting body fail to an infection brought on by wounds that have been too open for too long.” 
 
She offered him the help of a different kind, one of her healers back home.  Oh, that wouldn’t do.  Any healer would take one look at him and decide that passive magic is at play.  Now the mare was simply being contrary by not taking his lies with grace.  “A healer?” He feigned interest, but then a harsh cough overtook him.  Easy to fake considering his jagged jowls were already lined with blood.  He didn’t swallow, letting it splatter to the ground, staining the moss black.  ”I’m so close to the relic.  I can feel it.  To turn back and go so far…I’m not sure how much time I’ve left.” 
 
“Help me find it, Bel.  When I’m well, I will forever be in your debt.”  He looked to her with pleading eyes now, silver pools that hid his idolatry for fraud.
 

@Below Zero | Oh now he’s just pathetic.
@Random Events
 

[Below Zero]

Below Zero

my frost philosophy will put no curse on me

One might describe Bel as a bit oblivious, but not really easy to distract or trick . . . this odd not-a-zombie-but-looks-like-one horse was proving half of that to be false. While true, Bel could usually tell when one was fogging her vision with ink, she was starting to fall for his suggestions, hook, line and sinker. And true to an aquatic creature, with that bait dangling infront of her, she was bound to get caught on the hook. Even now she wasn't aware of the attention she held from the male as light pierced the leaved canopy above, dappling her pelt. Though, even if she was aware of his attentions, she'd be more confused by the reason of those attentions - she was after all only roughly eighty five percent convinced he wasn't a zombie after a next meal.

She was still cautious enough to not fall for the bait after the first cast, instead swimming around it as if trying to deem its' sincerity by observing the angles of the story he hold. So she'd started with a single question, a single moment of curiosity to wonder how he'd been so mistreated by the word. When he spoke of it being his own fault, however, it was not the story that young Bel would have been expecting. Usually those comments preluded stories about how the individual was never at fault, how every other horse had conspired against them. Immediately taking the blame gave the bait he was casting a little more life. His words hurt her heart, broke it for him, as she listening to him speak, defending his decision about taking a youth into a canyon, the terror of a pack descending. How he shouldn't have been the one to survive and how he had to deserve this. She was silent, and a flicker of pain - her own - crossed her features. Had her sister died like that, no pod to defend her, as the wolves that would occasionally hunt along the shore-lines took up the free meal. Crying, screaming, calling for assistance that was too far out of reach.

At the male's shake, the shutter that shook his body, the Aquatic mare looked up, tilting her head when he spoke a name. She hesitated slightly before reaching out, her muzzle lightly touching his shoulder, gently . . . placating him for a story he was merely an expert at weaving, "It's not your fault . . . you couldn't have known what would have happened." She said softly. Dimly she made a slight mental note of the short distance between trying to relieve the blame from horrific pasts two different stallions had carried. Just a few weeks prior hadn't she tried to do the same for the large pegasi with hooves of flame? Of course she couldn't know that where Sol's story was fact, this one was fiction. "And I imagine you had tried everything you could to get both she and yourself to safety . . . tragedy strikes when you least expect it, but that doesn't mean you should take the brunt of the blame." She tried to reassure, before pulling the dainty muzzle from his hide.

She took a step back then, glancing around them for a moment as she allowed him to regain his wits as she saw him trying to shake off the sadness and the tragedy. She shifted her limbs softly, her body side stepping to ease where the sun had been pressing into her skin and heating the blubber beneath that gave her body the softness it held. The pinpoints of heat had been growing uncomfortable, and in response the water vapors travelling off her body seemed to lower in temperature, the misty water soothing her back just as easily as shifting where those sun-streams hit her pelt.

Only when he seemed to draw his attention back to her did she glance at him, only for his gaze to press into hers, a touch uncomfortable for the mare who had sorrows of her own. He seemed to be begging for help . . . how was she supposed to deny that? The cast bait gave another wiggle. He spoke again, admitting to know little about the relic other than a god had gifted it to the island. And how waiting on the edges of death had you grasping at seaweed to survive. He spoke of a desperation to find it and not let his body fail from the open wounds. She glanced at the wounds, and she tried another aspect of the issue. He seemed interested at the idea though, before he seemed to be overcome by a rough cough, blood staining the ground, and she immediately moved forward to offer any assistance.

He spoke the final words and the bait was too lifelike and convincing to ignore. This time, Bel took it and was caught on the line, just as he had attended when he'd first spoken it, "Oh dear, are you alright! Don't strain yourself too much! Of course I'll help. You said you could feel it? What direction? Perhaps we can start looking in that direction?" She offered, her dual sets of eyes both wide for concern for the male, "Can you walk, or do you need my assistance?" She added after another moment of concern for the male.


Thoughts
Speech
@'Vincent' @Random Events
Well, there goes her ability to not fall for lies, lol.

i feel no cold, i feel no fear inside my mind
Now I'm full of energy

[Random Events]

A Random Event Has Occurred!

The forest knows the moment death walks between its shadows. It can feel each track of a dragging leg like a rotten stick dragging patterns in the soft leaves and sand. And maybe as Vincent walks through the trees, with his eyes looking for the relic, he might notice that the trees tremble as finely as dragonfly wings when he passes.

A breeze is picking up when he is no longer along. It feels almost arctic cold and the forest wonders if the mare will realize that it's welcoming her.

With the breeze comes something else. The leaves are starting to shake faster and the forest floor is starting to hum in a way that seems to promise that something is drawing closer. A rabbit hurries out from the underbrush and it barely pauses to turn wide doe eyes on the two conversing horses. Birds are hurrying inward towards the center of the island. But they way they are flying seems lazy and too arrow straight to be a flight from whatever it is that is still making the entire forest hum and ache.

Just when it seems the closest trees to the two horses are starting to bow under some pressure bearing down upon them, an elephant breaks through shadows. His tusks are made of emerald and his skin is as white as bone. Each wrinkle of his body speaks of wisdom instead of age, immortality instead of fast approaching death. He pauses beside the horses and his trunk sweeps into something like a bow (but also a little like a challenge).

And maybe, just maybe, it looks a little like he's smiling at the two horses with a secret shining in his eyes.

He does not tarry long by the horses. But in his wake is a trail of aching trees and birds flying swiftly overhead to catch up. The line cut through the forest even looks a little like a worn down road on an old long forgotten map.


 

---

@Vincent and @Below Zero might wonder why the wind feels suddenly cooler. Or they might only wonder why it feels a little like 'home' or like 'death'. But when the wind starts swooping swift as a hawk into the forest the trees start to shake. Animals start to appear around them but none seem to tarry long-- until the elephant comes. Will they follow the path he has left behind?

Each participant will be awarded +300 signos for encountering a Random Event! How you reply is up to you; feel free to NPC the elephant or any other animals from this event.

Enjoy!

[Below Zero]

Below Zero

my frost philosophy will put no curse on me

The air had shifted, a certain breeze to it, a growing coldness that might create a shiver in some, but to Bel she seemed to relax in the cold. It wasn't polar ice-caps, but it was far closer to the coldness of home then she thought she would ever feel. Instantly the vapors around her body dropped a few more degrees as if pitching the weather that much cooler to a temperature that felt more natural and far more homely than the heat the island had had for so long. She closes her eyes briefly as she lets the breeze draw her in, a soft smile touching her features as the cold to it drops even more to where her own vapors suddenly shift in temperature. Suddenly she's shrouded with hot vapors against an arctic breeze, creating a misted condensation and in that moment she feels more like herself than she had been since leaving the arctic. This was a feeling of home, this was a feeling of who she was meant to be. This was what she'd wanted and didn't know she'd been lacking.

The leaves shaking and the floor humming beneath her hooves draws her back from her thoughts, eyes opening as she tilts hear head towards the sound, curious to see what the island would bring. She'd seen it create a path for her once before, perhaps it would do so again? She seems to wait patiently before a rabbit scurries from the brush, and stares at them. Birds soon follow, and with them Bel seems to relax more. They're not running from what ever is approaching, and taking comfort in the arctic breeze and the calm-laziness of the birds, Bel waits patiently.

She doesn't have to wait before trees slowly begin to bend under pressure, and as soon as the creature breaks free, Bel blinks in surprise. It's as large as a whale, with tusks green as the healthiest of seaweeds, and skin the white-washed of shells that had spent years beneath the waves. He's strikingly beautiful, and she doesn't know what he is. Still, he seems to be something special, just from the way he looks, body wrinkled, but not from age. There's a gleam to his eyes, a slight smile and a promise of a secret, even as his long limbed-like nose sweeps into a bow (she's too anamoured by the mammoth of a creature to see any sort of challenge in his motions).

He soon moves though, a path made by a trail of bent and torn trees and birds flying ahead clearly aiming to catch up with the elephant. Bel herself is instantly in motion, following the path made, the ground worn down like a road, and she's eagerly following the wise beast that had smiled with such a secret, eager to catch up. Her steps were quick and eager, her fluke of a tail dancing in her wake as she followed after the elephant, catching up and letting him break the path as she trailed behind, far enough to not be taken as a threat, close enough to follow the entourage he seemed to collect. A few birds fly down, and Bel greets them with a joyful sound torn between a whinney and a dolphin's cree-ee-eeeek. One lands briefly on her shoulder, awkwardly off place by her fin before taking to the air again, but Bel isn't bothered. She knew the island had secrets, and she had no shame in following this elephant just as she had followed the last path the island had given her as well.

Thoughts
Speech
@'Vincent' @Random Events She's so enamored by the elephant. She's can't help but follow! She's so freakin' cute.

i feel no cold, i feel no fear inside my mind
Now I'm full of energy