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Private  - guilty conscience

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Played by Offline nastyalicorn [PM] Posts: 26 — Threads: 4
Signos: 355
Night Court Artisan
Female [she / her / hers]  |  8 [Year 503 Spring]  |  13.2 hh  |  Hth: 15 — Atk: 5 — Exp: 15  |    Active Magic: N/A  |    Bonded: N/A
#1

temptable2

New places were an intimidating match for the lil' mouse.

In the midst of a colorful array of new faces and conversations, Thomasin stood dwarfed by the city structures of Dusk Court. Her large doe ears folded submissively in a puppy-dog nature against either side of her toffee-hued face, her wide eyes trying to take in the sights but remain modest and not infringe upon anyone's privacy.

There was excitement in the bustling air, whispers about the masquerade ball and a festival that featured a race.

Yet, Thomasin wasn't here for the festivities - as tempting as they might be. 

She was here to find some vendors and purchase some gifts in a feeble attempt to apologize to a dear friend for her absolutely uncalled for behavior.

Thomasin churned with guilt as she looked around, timid and meek, barely able to conjure her own voice in order to ask for assistance. Every time her mouth opened nothing but a pitiful squeak escaped her teeth. 

How would she ever be able to bare these crowds in hopes of finding someone who might be able to assist her? She was thankful for the friend she had met on the journey over - the strange boy who could change the shape of his body from equine to swan with the help of moonlight on his wings - he was much too kind, she thought, to be her guide to the city.

But now she was yet again alone, and the sun was starting set. She had only but a few hours before she could travel to the lady of the night, the lady of her heart, and beg for forgiveness. 

Until then, she aimlessly meandered in the crowd.


"talking."
tagged: @Chaosy
CODE IMAGE






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Played by Offline Chaosy [PM] Posts: 10 — Threads: 3
Signos: 0
Dusk Court Youth
Female [She/Her/Hers]  |  5 [Year 505 Winter]  |  18 hh  |  Hth: 15 — Atk: 5 — Exp: 19  |    Active Magic: N/A  |    Bonded: N/A
#2

Alfajiri

Should my tender heart be broken
I will cry those teardrops knowing
I will be just fine



Alfajiri was happy as she pranced through the court proper. Her parents had their hooves full with her little brother, leaving her more independence. Having been under the wing of her very protective sire, it was a breath of fresh air. Every morning, she had the opportunity to figure herself out further. 

Shaking her head, she let her ivory mane settle in a chaotic state of disarray. She was too young to truly care about making an impression… though old enough to know that she was expected to be more than she had been as a foal. Long, nearly white legs were strong, though she looked a bit awkward and lanky. Jiri was nearly full grown, height wise at least. While she was expected to mature out at 18 hands, she was currently sitting closer to the 16.3 hand mark. She needed more meat on her bones to fill out, but was well on her way.

Shaking away the thoughts and musing, she danced through the crowds with her seafoam eyes taking in those around her. As she moved, a figure caught her attention. She seemed almost lost, making Jiri pause. Approaching, she smiled and dipped her head at the mare. "Hello. Can I help you find something or someone?" She asked, pausing to glance up at the citadel to orient herself to where they were. 

Jiri and Sol had been members of the court for a while, though not as long as her mother. In the time that they had been here, the young mare had taken to exploring the world around her and learning more about the court that Bel was so fond of. The new sovereign was kind and warm, almost motherly. There was so much that had happened in the court, but she loved the beings that she had met. Focusing back on the mare beside her, she smiled again. "I am Jiri, by the way." She introduced herself while she waited for a response from the stranger.



"Speaking."
@Thomasin
Notes: <3 Writing her as a 2 year old since that is currently pending <3






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