The best mirror is an old friend

Thyri

POSTED: Fri Apr 06, 2018 12:25 am

The sun was rising over the Ethereal plains to meet the merchant who traveled in the sleepy haze of early morning. The duo of drafts that pulled his cart moved lazily, and the man seated at their lead curled the cloak over his fists and knitted it tightly to keep in him warmth. They'd all rose just hours before, the cart packed right the night before, and as daylight threatened, the horses were hitched. On their horizon, north of the rocky Shattered Coast, they made their way with the thumping of working horses, the clacking of the cart, and the soft jingling of wares. The solemn squeaks of a lantern was the only thing that broke the hum of the early spring birdsong, metal against metal chiming out as the flame flickered brightly in the waning darkness.

On the right collar, was the ever loyal and obedient Fantasy. The indigo roan mare held deep, dark hues on her face and feathers, a flaxen mane spun from the golden fields of fall wheat balled into tidy stand-ups likes scales of a dragon down her crest and ever curious baby-blues that danced with the joy that working brought her. Old scars crossed her legs, healed with time, but never quite returning the soft salt of the roan that dusted her strong back. Magni, at her side in the collar at the left, trotted with less fervor. The honey sweet caramel of his coat shined, peppered with flecks of snow that matched the alabaster of his mane and tail, both tightly tucked into a bun and stand-up as well. The two drafts matched in their dress, but in every way they seemed vastly different. Even so, Ezra had managed to coax the pair into working politely for the morning, but he knew that Magni would need additional apples if he was going to any farther than the Court today.

Ezra, the Longer Merchant, sat peacefully atop his bench, the reins gripped in two pallid hands that crept from the confines of the cloak that enveloped him. The edges of white sleeves slipped from the cloak's dark hold, as did the untamed ebon locks that cascaded out of the hood along with the slender length of his maw, tipped and dotted in charcoal. One hand offered the reins to the other, then willowy fingers covered his long maw as a yawn slipped through. Marbled gaze held the sleepiness of the world in their glass-like reflection, but as the scents of the Court started thickly assaulting his senses, a soft and warm grin slipped to his features.

Tenderly convinving his team of horses to slow to a halt, he tied off their rein to a hook on the backrest, then leapt from his bench. A grumpy rumble from an irritated feline murmured beneath the blanket that rested over the cart,” I know, Bygul. but we cannot keep searching if we have no food, and little supplies to keep us,” The white flash of whiskers and an irritated orange eye crept from beneath the blanket, giving him the meanest glare he'd seen from the cat yet. Still, his words were smooth like honey to satiate his traveling partnet,” Wooden horses and Macrame do us little good, save to pass nights,” He offered the feline, who clearly was upset about this whole trade route,” We can use this route to gather supplies, my feline friend, and then we can continue our search better prepared,” Another cat-like rumble came as Bygul slunk about the goods beneath the blanket. Ezra chuckled as he patted the side of the cart to finish the debate with the cat,” Winter found us bare, Bygul. We cannot help Fiora if we cannot help ourselves. A lesson she taught me well.”

His voice tapered off as he spoke his last, the sting of her name still a dagger in his heart at her unknown wareabouts. Ezra didn't have the option of giving up. She had never given up on him, the woman's presences in his heart and mind ever unwavering. Even though it came with the sorrow of loss, every beat in his cheat worked to find her. For now, they were at a stalemate, though. Their supplies were low for survival, but high in valuable goods due to long sleepless nights in the hands of an anxious whittler. Rounding the cart, Ezra gave each of the horses a calming caress to their noses with the gentlest touch he could manage. He wanted them prepared and well ready for the loud call he'd have to give now that they'd reached their destination. Holding the side of Magni's halter, he turned to the heart of the Court.

Ezra, the Merchant, the Poet and the Paperman, cast his head to the morning sky and gave the Merchant's call to boundaries for Cour de Miracles.

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Last edited by Ezra Vahn on Mon Jun 11, 2018 5:37 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Luperci Jordheim

POSTED: Thu Apr 19, 2018 11:49 am

Morning spilled over the Court like an egg broken open, casting the spring day in golden hues. Thyri had been up a long while already, making her rounds along the border of her home. She padded along on two legs, knowing that four would be quicker but feeling a need for her axe today. She held its smooth, wooden haft in the roughened pads of her palm, feeling safe and strong and confident with its weight and power.

In the wake of the Winter of Tarnished Gold, her body had healed much more quickly than her broken heart. Grief was a difficult thing, much more difficult, it felt to Thyri, than broken bones and lacerated flesh. And it was sneaky, too. There were days when she woke feeling a little better, only to break down unexpectedly at the sight of a spring flower or a passing cat or even Baldr, all because they reminded her of the woman she had lost – that they had all lost.

But as time wore on, it was true that those pangs and twinges of sadness and loss did lessen, feeling more like a dull ache rather than a sharp stab. And life carried on. There was the housing project to work on and there was Silvano to worry about. And, as painful as some days were, as far as Thyri was concerned, there was no other option than to keep on living.

Sweeping pale jade eyes across the woodlands, the Duchesse carried on along the borders. She paused every once in a while to strengthen their border-scent, or investigate a particular sound or smell that caught her attention, before pressing on again dutifully. But the call that sounded from somewhere not far ahead had her reeling. Thyri froze, her ears pricked forward along her skull and her maw parted in shock.

And then she ran.

With her axe, her gait was awkward and her pace slower than she would have liked, but she reached the place where the call had come from as quickly as she could. Her thoughts raced with her. Was it really him? It had to be him. She ran and ran and then she slowed and her eyes fell upon his feathered frame and marbled eyes and Thyri gave a joyful cry. "Ezra!" Her short-cropped mane blew back from her face as she approached him at an eager lope. "I thought it was you, when I heard your call!" She gave the horses and the cart a curious glance. She slowed her pace and set her axe against a nearby tree, holding her arms out invitingly for a hug. "I'm so glad to see you! What are you doing here?" She looked around them. "Where's Fiora?"

OOC: YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

[WC — 460]

don't leave this world to me
Cour des Miracles
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trouble is a friend

POSTED: Thu May 17, 2018 4:00 pm

Powerful horses had not startled at the sound of his doggish 'roo' that lifted to the skies and sought the soul of one of the Court. As the marbled gaze framed in black reached out into the claimed lands, he sought through the movements of the wind and clouds any instance of a shadow moving. He knew it might be some time before anyone could reach the edges quickly. The thought gave him patience, as nothing he could do would move this process along faster than it could move itself. To that degree, the merchant turned his eyes to the horses that stood solidly in their collars, the first instance of sweat beginning to bead on their equine coats around the leather confines.

Each got their turn at a gentle scratching at the crest of their brow before the long man made his way around the cart and flipped up the blanket to check on his goods and give Bygul a little fresh air if he needed it. The cat merely gave him a rotten look and crawled deeper into the cart, beyond the dog's sight. A defeated sigh escaped Ezra's lips,” Okay, Bygul, I'll leave you be,” Then, he returned to the horses who seemed much more pleased about his presence than the miffed feline. He wrapped his fingers into Magni's halter and began petting his cheek and the sun crept into the sky as the time passed.

At the sound of uneven steps pounding the grasses, Ezra tidied himself up and held fast to Magni's halter to assure the horses would remain in their places. Before the dog could turn to face who had come, a voice shook him throughout.

“Thyri!?”

The sighthound mutt swung around, forgetting of all his charges for the moment. The swirled gaze of earth and sea found the golden young lady, how much she had grown. A woman now, strong and- scarred? Surely the world was a cruel place and always had been, but the dog took it personally that anyone might want to put any harm to the woman who had such a guided moral compass. Scars, with them, held tragedies. Now, was not the time, he decided. Pulling his sights from the not quite fresh, though certainly not old scars that adorned her, he found her eyes beneath a shorter fringe,” Lady Thyri, my dear friend, how are you! I've missed you!” As she put her weapon down, Ezra took her invitation for an embrace with joy. Nearly lifting her from her feet, he sought it best to keep her to the earth, but it was so good to see a friend again. Images of Vinatta and their time spent in those lands brought only good memories.

It took a moment, but Ezra pulled back from the Dawnbringer female, to answer the first of her questions,” Without Vinatta, I haven't quite found a place that matches in the magic of our old home,” He chuckled lightly in the truth that he spoke, but deep-set in his gaze there was a sorry for the Nova Scotia homeland that was now gone. Before he could reach any deeper into why exactly he was here, words that cut like a toothed dagger and raked through his soul.

Where's Fiora. He certainly wished he knew.

The light in his eyes slowly faded, as his animation and vigor slowly died. Taking a few steps back in a chance of denial that the woman he loved might show, he took a deep breath, but he couldn't stop the rock that stuck in his throat. Fiora,” She- uh,” He cleared his throat and turned his back to the Coutier, to his best friend still after all this time, and pretended to occupy himself with Fantasy for the moment. He needed the softness of her serene eyes under thick lashes to give him peace,” We-uh... Don't... Know,” Staggered breaths were taken in between each word as his thoughts fought with the best way to say it combined with the inability to think clearly at all. Deep breaths. Slow and deep. The lump in his throat waned but the gloss of his eye still shone like clear waters.

“We were separated in a violent storm after Vinatta was gone,” The words stung, like a venom that wouldn't leave him. The only cure was Fiora at his side again. Another inhalation brought him back around to face Thyri, but it took a moment to find the courage to match her gaze,” Our supplies ran short in Winter. I've begun a trade route through Nova Scotia to keep us alive,” Ezra gestured kindly to the horses, because he surely wasn't the only one that needed food, and they certainly earned their fair share with hauling his cart wherever they went,” What we can get will fuel a search, beyond Nova Scotia if it must, to find her.”
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Luperci Jordheim

POSTED: Sat May 26, 2018 10:27 am

His embrace was warm and strong and filled her with memories of Vinátta. She drew in a long, deep breath and wrapped her arms around him, burying her scarred face in the feathers of his chest. In the wake of Izrian's disappearance and Vinátta's disbandment, Thyri had lost track of her old friends, chief among them being Ezra. But she had held out hope that he was alive and well, living out his life peacefully with his mate, Fiora, by his side.

So it surprised her when she noticed Fiora was not among the many companions and belongings that Ezra traveled with.

Pushing this curiosity momentarily to the side, Thyri listened to her old friend and nodded. Oh, how good it felt to be called "Lady Thyri" again, and to hear it from Ezra's voice. "Vinátta was special," she agreed, turning sad eyes upon him. Though she had chosen to depart from her birthplace some time before the pack dissolved, Vinátta never ceased to occupy an important part of her heart. "I don't think that there will ever be anything like it again."

And maybe there shouldn't be, Thyri thought. Anything like Vinátta would be just that: a replica and not the real thing.

"But there's bound to be another place you and Fiora can call home. Cour des Miracles is pretty magical, in its own way," she offered with a smile, then let is slip just a quickly when she thought of Fiora again. Where was Fiora? She had to ask. When she did, and saw the growing dimness pass like a shadow over Ezra's marbled eyes, Thyri braced herself for the worst. "Ezra..." she said softly as he stammered and breathed. Thyri reached out a hand in a show of support.

When he finally found the courage to explain what had happened, the wheaten Dawnbringer offered him a sympathetic whine and listened. She thought of Merlin, of how long and wide and hard her search for him had been. Though she wanted to tell Ezra that he would find Fiora, and that they would live happily together again, the words caught in her throat. In the wake of her own failure to find a missing loved one, Thyri felt it unkind to make such promises to Ezra. "I'm so sorry, Ezra," she said instead, lowering her ears and her tail. "I hope you can find her." I hope you can succeed where I failed.

"Are you here to trade, then?" she asked, her tone more somber now with the knowledge of what her friend had been going through.

[WC — 443]

don't leave this world to me
Cour des Miracles
Chambellan
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Mandi
Ægishjálmr: Helm of Awe
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trouble is a friend

POSTED: Sat Jun 30, 2018 4:40 am

“It truly was,” His voice had a dreamy quality to it as he carried on a bit about his old home,” The first place I finally decided to settle in Nova Scotia,” The first place where I decided to live honestly. A criminal no more with a past I had outrun,” Very fond memories,” A soft nod was offered to his honey-wheat friend. Her words could never have been more true. A magical kingdom of pure-hearted survivors from a home that seemed as it was blessed by the heavens. Though, all good things must come to an end, and Ezra understood that just as any soul who had once lost a home could. He tried not to visit the ruin of his old mill and the hillside homes when he passed, but it was no luck. When he was in the area, it was like the ghost of an old friend whispered in a ghost town.

The hand that reached toward him and the small note that left her throat let him know that she was there for him. He held her hand for just a moment in the slender, thin-skinned, alabaster fingers with gratitude for her compassion. There weren't many souls he could talk to about it, and certainly fewer that might understand so well as Thyri did. After all, she was their for the beginning, even if it was rough for her young heart.

“Thank you,” Words as soft as the wind beneath butterfly wings fluttered from his lips and his heart.

Clearing his throat and fluttering his eyelids to the sky for a moment, he attempted to compose himself. Thyri gave the perfect opportunity for him to leave the previous conversation. When his marbled gaze returned to her, the pale rose of those glossed orbs, he nodded,” Yes,” Taking a few more breaths, he managed to bring himself further away from the negative thoughts that loneliness had brought him; thoughts that the mere mention of Fiora's name made erupt uncontrollably if he didn't keep them in check,” It's the start of a long trade journey. I intend to visit as many of the packs that I can,” He omitted mention a purposeful skip of Salsola's lands,” But, that all can wait for a moment. Lady Thyri, I'm so happy to see you.”

A willow merchant managed to smile away a bit of the hurt in his eyes. Thyri held with her good thoughts, strong memories of rebuilding and the wonder of her youth,” You really have grown into a fantastic young woman!” He danced carefully around the scars that hadn't been present in their young friendship. Not too many appreciated the mention of such things. Instead, he pass black bangs from his features where they had teased to settle,” It seems while I've let my hair grow wild, you've made yours short. My, it does make you look like the warrior you are,” He thought that a better compliment than the wounds that littered her now. Worry for what may have happened in their distance swirled up in his chest. What things did happen when he was away. A silent curse slipped into his mind over himself. Calypso damned him to be the man that escaped more than those he loved.
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Luperci Jordheim

POSTED: Sat Aug 04, 2018 5:30 pm

She listened, her pale brows lifting above soft, jade eyes. "That's ambitious," she replied, thinking about how wide and vast the territories sprawled. Without any stops, save for one to retrieve Merlin's donkey from Krokar, it had taken Thyri and Reblin days to travel down to the Court when she'd returned from her search for her dear friend. "You'll be at it for moons, Ezra," she mused, glancing at him curiously. But, for a Luperci who had no ties or desire to be part of a pack, that hardly seemed concerning. "Do you like being a loner?" she asked.

For Thyri, life without the stability, community, and safety of a pack had been difficult. Though she wasn't an extroverted woman, she had found that it was important to her to have that sense of camaraderie one found with pack life. She liked to know that there were friendly faces around her, whether or not they were actively interacting with her, and she had missed that a great deal when it was only she, her steed, and her hawk against the world.

"Thank you, Ezra," she replied soberly, the smile on her face soft. But she allowed a slow wagging of her tail, nonetheless. When his words about her mane expanded between them, Thyri glanced away. Though the smile was still fixed on her face – stiff and still – and her tail continued its lazy cadence, the memory of that night on the shore was still a tender one. "You could say that," she said, attempting to offer a little laugh but he sounds were forced and thick in her throat. Finally, she met his marbled gaze again. "It wasn't my choice," she offered by way of explanation, then explained to Ezra all that had happened to her – and her pack, her family – over the course of The Winter of Tarnished Gold.

She ran her fingers through her cropped mane as she completed her tale. "She's dead now, and my mother's soul is in Valhalla." She sighed. "So it's time to move on."

[WC — 350]

don't leave this world to me
Cour des Miracles
Chambellan
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Ægishjálmr: Helm of Awe
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trouble is a friend

POSTED: Wed Aug 15, 2018 3:28 am

The poet couldn't help a laugh as he brought his hand to the back of his head and tousled his hair as a way to busy himself sheepishly,” I certainly will, but all for a good cause,” His words were lightening, as were his shoulders, and he slowly moved away from the man he'd come to be on lonely nights with happy dreams but melancholy reality. He next question came with a very sure answer,” I can't say that I do,” He shook his head and folded his arms across his chest. His frithr sat crooked against his sleeve,” There is a missed sense of coming home, of brotherhood. Working for a greater good, for more than myself. There is... little pride in it. A history for sale,” He spoke listlessly. Sure, he met a great many people but of the things that make life worth while, of sharing stories and helping a friend for him were absent. Things that he missed greatly, though none enough to end his search.

Ezra's only marplot had been not knowing. He clenched his jaw to his folly as she offered her strained laugh. It seemed the compliment had come to something of an insult, and while unintended and Thyri did her best to keep from showing that to Ezra, the dogman was no fool to her expression. Even as she grew, somethings remained, though she did not cry, her features showed an incomparable pain. Her story carried on thereafter, a pale hand brought to the poet's maw as he held his breath for every twist and turn of the tragic tail. As she finished, running her hands through her hair, she spoke somber words with the wisdom of any elder and it was commendable.

Still, Ezra offered to open up his arms to her for an embrace. Surely, she had the strength of her pack behind her, and perhaps didn't need it, but this was very new and grave news to him. Shiloh had been the one that accepted his howl at Vinatta's borders, and the glaze of his eye spoke the sorry he felt for her loss. The world could not let him forget the evil deeds of dark souls that sought power over life and all that it was,” Lady Thyri, I am so sorry,” He spoke, words winded and thick in his throat,” Thank you for telling me. I'd never have known,” A brief moment of silence passed before he gathered up the breath in his lungs to speak again,” You are stronger than you might ever know, my friend.”
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Luperci Jordheim

POSTED: Sat Sep 29, 2018 9:08 am

She hummed a response from between quirked lips, and listened as Ezra continued. As he folded his arms across his chest, the Frithr pendant caught her eye and, instinctively, she lifted a hand up to touch her own. "I know what you mean," she replied with confidence, thinking back to her own time without pack or stability. Though there was freedom in being a loner, it wasn't worth the risks that were involved in staying safe, in keeping alive. "I wish you safety in your search, Ezra. If you ever need help, you can call upon me any time."

His arms were open before her and Thyri stepped forward into his embrace. Silky fur pillowed her head as she pressed it against his chest. "Thank you, Ezra," she sighed, loosening her arms from around his long torso and drawing a step back again. The urge to cry had bubbled up in her throat, but she held it there stubbornly until, at last, it faded and died. Thyri swallowed the rest of her grief down and managed a small smile. "A consolation prize from the gods, I suppose."

Standing with her old friend – this important element of a distant past – Thyri felt peaceful and whole. Some part of her wished that she could convince him to stay, so she could hold that feeling within her always, but this was a selfish thought and she quickly banished it. Instead, she let this desire go with the silent wish for his safety and success.

OOC: we could maybe wrap up here or with your next post, since this thread is somehow 5 months old now??? xO

[WC — 252]

don't leave this world to me
Cour des Miracles
Chambellan
User avatar
Mandi
Ægishjálmr: Helm of Awe
S K J A L D M Æ R
trouble is a friend

Cour des Miracles