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Private  - you come beating like moth's wings | festival

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Played by Offline Darkrise [PM] Posts: 46 — Threads: 14
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#2

chaos and moondust is what she's made of
Winter, particularly the Winter Solstice, was always an important time of year to Kajaks, to her father’s Kingdom. Castalla could remember every year, ever since she was but a foal, looking forward to the festival. Nightfall Keep would be awash with colour, hung with beautiful decorations and everyone would wander around with a smile on their faces. And the scents- the scents were glorious. Woodsmoke and candle flame, oakmoss and cinnamon, spiced wines and pungent flowers. The Cook, Keyafar, would have sugar-dusted cookies on hand at all times and the tantalising aroma of grilled boar, stewed beef and spit-roasted veal would waft from the kitchen at all hours of the day. On the Winter Solstice itself the pack would stay up all night and when the moon emerged from its starry expanse, they would sing together. Their howls would split the night, caress the darkness, until they were too hoarse to even talk. They would sleep only when the moon herself dipped beneath her clouded duvet, when the first lights of dawn sent the stars scurrying for the shadows of another land. And then they would awake again in the late hours of the morning for a feast and a trade of gifts.

Such memories hung heavy in her heart now, bitter sweet and stained in sorrow. The first Winter Solstice without Skender had been the hardest. She’d hidden in the shadows of her bedroom listening to the howls of her people with tears staining her face and pain weighing down her shoulders. The second had not been so bad, but the Wolf still could not bring herself to find the joy in Solstice celebrations that she once had.

She hoped tonight would be different.

Word had reached the Night Court of a Winter festival hosted by Dusk Court, and in the name of getting to know the outlying areas, Castalla had decided to attend. Relations between the courts could be tempestuous at worst and there were whispers of past conflicts and manoeuvres but it seemed Novus was not beholden to the same power struggle and battles Alanaris always was. In fact, on the face of things, everyone seemed to live in relative peace. On the face of things of course. But nevertheless, it was a lovely change from having to be constantly on her guard and ready for some monster hunter to jump out and attack her.

The air was rich with the scents of candle-smoke and cinnamon, pine trees and log fires. All around the Court tiny little lanterns glittered and shone, casting light upon the decorations hung neatly over each building. Bathed in the shadow of the towering citadel, the Dusk city was rather cosy, particularly when it was this packed. Tables were lined with food and drink, guest meandering down the streets in conversation. Castalla herself weaved in and out of the groups, admiring the city and searching for a face she might recognise. Though of course the princess was well-versed in courtly intrigue and making conversation with those she did not know, tonight she did not feel the pressure to. There was no secret game of wits, no looming threat, no target to manipulate or informant to meet. No, tonight it was just a celebration among kind strangers and the Wolf was determined to make the best of it.

Blue eyes alight with the glow of flickering candles, she continued to cast her gaze around in wonder at the beautiful city, glad of the comfort of night. Distracted, she did not notice the winged steed who gentle backed into her. When he whirled around, nearly dropping the shiny bauble grasped within invisible hands, a smile was on her face and her own apologies on her lips. “Castalla. But please, don’t be sorry, it was my mistake.” Indeed, decades of training and practice had taught her to be aware of everyone and everything at all times. That was the joy of immortality, years to hone whatever skills you might want. Even so, it seemed that tonight instinct was belayed by the chance to let go. “And you are?” She asks, the friendly smile still on her face. Castalla was still learning the different scents of the four courts, but she could be sure he was neither of her court or the Dusk Court.

"Speaking."


@Septimus <3










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RE: you come beating like moth's wings | festival - by Castalla - 12-18-2019, 09:00 AM
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