gravity can't forget

POSTED: Sun May 15, 2016 4:37 pm

Dusk, along the Pictou river past SL. wearing something similar to this (+300)

She had been spared most of the day before her decline. The headache never would leave her alone for long, however. It returned in full force with the descent of the sun, and every footstep that her mare took was in time with the pulse of Ocèane's head. The dancer had become very skilled with tolerance and pain in the past weeks, however, and so she did not stop their quest. On she rode, assisting Evadne in every way as they attempted to navigate through the thick, tangled foothills of Halcyon. The mother had taken care to give Salsola's border a wide berth, but each step towards the east brought them further into the embrace of the mountain, so she was not a distance from the clan she was very comfortable with, if only because they could not afford to travel too deeply into dangerous territory. She would deal with a snarky Salsolian before a broken leg from Halcyon.

Eventually, the sky was displaying its strokes of pink and orange tell tale of the sun's setting, and Ocèane knew that they would need to find a place to camp soon. Tomorrow they would be clear of Salsola and the mountain and maybe she could rest easy, but tonight camp would have to be quietly nestled within the woods. No fire, either; the Thistle Kingdom would not be ignorant to smoke rising so close to where they stake claim. The dancer dismounted when she heard the sound of bubbling water, and quietly guided Evadne towards the noise before she stood before a wide river she recognized as the Pictou. They were very close now, and the water was always a good place to stake out camp; it provided the cover of noise and was also an extra barrier of protection. The dancer and horse walked along the length of the river east until they came across a patch of clearing decent enough to camp for the night, Ocèane relieved with the little bit of extra distance between herself and the darker pack. Removing Evadne's tack, she hung it in a nearby tree and tied the horse to the same branch. The woman then kneeled to fill her water pouch with the cool contents of the river, considering as the water flowed over her fingers where would be the best places to set traps overnight.

Océane Aston

User avatar
Ann
Luperci the rules of paradise are never nice
I want your fears, your hopes
the whole kaleidoscope

POSTED: Mon May 23, 2016 12:25 am

Sorry for the slow~ and for how long and terrible this is! D: [ 626 ]

The Grotto of the Seven Sleepers yawned a cold and heavy breath from the deep belly of the earth as the sun began its slow but inevitable descent from the heavens and the warmth of the day began to gradually dissipate from the earth. Once the sun sank beyond the horizon the earth took on an almost ethereal glow as the light of day had not completely surrendered, the dark of night had not completely taken over, and the faintest points of stars began to peek out from the void.

From the craggy maw of the caverns a pitch black hellhound seemingly spawned from the molten depths made its ascent from places unknown and blood red eyes peered out indifferently from a façade of half-masked darkness, their pupils easily adjusting to the change in illumination from the deep shadows of the caves to the otherworldly eventide glow. Nostrils flared as a variety of scents flitted by on the breeze but none was as intriguing as the feminine aroma of a stranger and horse, the smell faint but lingering as if whatever had made it had passed nearby only a short time ago.

Curious as to who would be foolish enough to venture so close to the periphery of the Thistle Kingdom, the Beast – hellish and hulking in his halfling form – shifted into motion, his heavy paws carrying him fluidly over the tricky terrain at the foot of the mountains. The transitional topography of where the marshy lowlands met the sharp incline of the peaks was a treacherous trek and if one did not know the realm that well or wasn't smart enough to use caution. It was easy to lose ones footing and take a nasty tumble into gravel and dust. Lucky for him, the Jagermeister knew this land almost unlike any other, and had paced up and down the landscape more times than he cared to count.

With no intention to stray too far from the kingdom he made no effort to hide his scent, which to any trained nose was a dead giveaway of his allegiance, though very few knew the aroma well enough to pinpoint it right off the bat. The scent of the stranger though grew more and more in strength as he strayed further away from the border, the traces meandering along the babbling bends of the Pictou before the sound of someone moving around just ahead found his ears and the shape of something four-legged and something two-legged became silhouetted against the trees.

His movement slowed then, his blackness melding with the ever darkening shadows as he slipped into a rather predatory stalk a fair distance away, far enough that whoever it was would be hard pressed to hear or smell him coming, as they most definitely would not be able to see him. Not yet anyways. He had the languid evening breeze in his favor and the careful strategy of a seasoned hunter. The stranger would only know he was there when he wanted her to, and for the time being he was much more content with observing.

Before long the sights and sounds ahead of him turned into the focused figures of a horse and a femme, a quartet of blue feathers knotted into her hair, fluttering as she moved about for a moment before kneeling to gather some water from the gurgling Pictou nearby. She didn't appear to be a warrior, a scout, or a spy, and if plain looks were anything to go by she seemed more like a traveler than anything else. This was a good enough reason to approach, though her scent was what really drove him to reveal himself. Something about it was just... off.

"It is dangerous in the woods at night."





Avatar by Eve; Siggy by Songbird
Salsola
The Henchman (NPC)
User avatar
Eve
Cazador, Veleno
VIRULENT
Valar Morghulis

POSTED: Sat May 28, 2016 11:26 pm

Shhh your post was perfect <: (+400)

Océane wondered why she constantly played fate like this.

Truly risking a broken limb may have given her better chances at safety than skirting the edges of a kingdom full of literal pricks. Asking for passage was far out of the question, for they would not let her through without some form of payment, as a troll beneath a bridge may. They had smugly bloated their territory to consume what was unnecessary, and it was endlessly irritating. The woman just wanted to reach her family, which mainly consisted of peaceful tribespeople. This was in bad taste, but do it she must, for her dying wish was to reach the last few she loved. Should a Salsolan find her here, she had doubt that they would spare her interrogation for taking refuge in the forest adjacent their land, but risk it she would. Perhaps this sudden streak of bravery or arrogance was a key to the emotions of reality she had hidden. She was tired. Maybe one way or another, she would accidentally trip over the means to an end. The irony of the situation could have made her laugh. Once upon a time, the man she loved had been the one ready to die, though his health had never been the issue. Now their situations were switched. Well- not entirely. He was dead. Or so she thought.

A voice. Océane dropped her waterskin into the shallows of the Pictou from the sudden sound, and immediately stood and twisted into a turn, seaglass eyes cutting across the shadowed forest edge for the disturber. A pair of crimson points identified her guest, and the woman watched the bodiless entity, silent for a long while. She had no means of scenting him, for the breeze was not in her favor, and so he was an enigma. "Quel bonjour terribles." The French spilled from her tongue, the accusing comment concealed behind the language barrier. Then she responded, this time in a tongue of equality. "I am aware." The dancer's gaze did not break contact from the odd reds of the apparently male newcomer for several moments. The traveler then turned her back to the man- a sign of superiority or simple movement was for him to decide- and kneeled, her arm plunged elbow-deep into the cold river to retrieve her waterskin. When the item was located, she snatched it back up and stood, turning to face the intruder once again. "Do part from your cover of shadows, monsieur." She commanded, not with authority, but in request.

Océane Aston

User avatar
Ann
Luperci the rules of paradise are never nice
I want your fears, your hopes
the whole kaleidoscope

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