[m] We are scared to dream of God

But it's salvation that we want

POSTED: Wed Jan 21, 2015 11:49 pm

WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.


I WANT THE PIGLETS ;o; [453]


In the morning she came for her traps, and in the afternoon she reset the last one. There was nothing to show for her effort. It would be a waste in another season, but since it was the thinnest stretch of winter, she was content to let it be. Her breath trailed in a cold stream as she left the snare behind. Clouds pearled in the distance, their cool tones offset by the late sunlight. By evening, she thought there would be more snow.

The woods were dense and the way was not always clear. Her traps were like buoys across the sea of wilderness. Small ribbons, tiny enough to be a leaf, marked her hidden ropes and a hidden path. When she spotted Krokar’s colors in the dark twisted boughs, she was surprised to find that the net had already been triggered.

Something wriggled. It made small, nearly inaudible squeaks. When she unwound the ropes, a fluffy piglet rushed out from underneath. It began snuffing at her, and then it climbed to the warmth of her chest. She could hold the creature in the palm of her hands, and this she did, kindly, with some surprise. Her breath was soft with laughter as three more appeared, tripping over the net as they came. “Well, I can’t eat you,” she said, trying to appease them all by allowing them to settle across her lap and arms. “Maybe when you’re older.”

Boars had not been hunted since the age of man. They had been allowed to grow tall and dense like the forest they called home. A sow was no longer simply game, but a wild and unfettered beast, and this was what Semini saw looming in the distance. She thought it was a mound of snow until it loosened with a cry, and then it came barreling forward, a mountain that moved with the swiftness of wind. Ice pealed from its grizzled hide, shedding any and all thoughts of safety with it.

The wolfdog was possessed by the instinct of flight. She ran from her traps and did not think to relinquish the piglets she spirited with her. They bounced in her arms and did not protest their abduction. The forest was quiet save for her breath and the blaring siren of the boar, and these two sounds mingled their intention: one to live, and the other to kill. It was a cacophonous melody for an otherwise peaceful afternoon. Twigs cracked in crooked streaks across her face and arms, encouraging red to spill before her heart could spend it. She could not think of rest, because the call reminded her, on and on, how close and unstoppable was the boar.

Last edited by Semini on Sat Feb 21, 2015 4:01 am, edited 4 times in total.
Reason: Totally M'in this thread UP
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POSTED: Thu Jan 22, 2015 12:52 am

hark that warning whisper in your heart

He thought to escape.

There was plenty behind him that gave reasons for such. The ball now past, Lokr had many fouler points of the evening to dwell upon. If what his instincts warned him were true, then his foes and rivals within Salsola were bolder now than they had ever been before. It was a risky time to be alive; A riskier time still to play the Game.

He would return, as always he returned. But for now, the North and the forests called. Once, the dark one had been a prince - As he rode fast and silent beneath the canopy of pine, he felt such again. Confidence returned with the wild flight, seeping back into his bones, pouring out in the cold and dangerous air about him.

In seeking paths he thought, absently, of the girl with the amber eyes; Thought of her pack, Krokar. Thought of the little that he had done with the information she had willingly given. Turning Borya east was an easy choice to make.

It was in the best of luck - (her luck, purportedly, for he had ever been an ill and unlucky omen) - that timing and coincidence rewarded Semini. A hunter knows the cry of a boar, and the wise fear it more even than the scent of a bear. Bears, at the worst of times, can be avoided and outrun. In this forest, and further north than here, Lokr knew that boars grew to disproportionate size and they were hellish beasts when wild.

Though his better instincts warned him to turn his steed about and steer clear, something in the furious bellow of the beast was curiously alarming. Lokr felt his inhibitions slide away, and he rode onward. The dark fingers of his hand stroked tenderly the longbow, and a fletched arrow was quick to bite its teeth to string. Excitement grew in his heart, a bleak and acrid thing. A boar was a large and impressive kill to make.

He readied himself at a league beyond the beast's charging path, and waited.

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Last edited by Lokr Revlis on Thu Jan 22, 2015 11:41 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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POSTED: Thu Jan 22, 2015 1:42 am

:O [283]


In the infinite arrogance of the young and alive, she did not count herself among those who could die. No, Semini would survive even as she ran with certain death wailing at her back. She had been taken once by the ocean, and she believed the experience had imparted her with a great gift; something of its essence which could not be trampled by any enraged boar. Perhaps it was sheer necessity that guided her to this conviction, because confidence was pivotal to each falling step - that these movements might sustain her just long enough, even it was just a hair's width long. The icy loam would deliver her to safety as it always had. She ran, on and on.

Snow began to hail her passage in thick, heavy flakes. She could not wipe them from her vision, but still, she saw it. Green and blue, as beautiful as the sea.

She knew where the land would be marked, and it came and went behind her. The wolfdog dove across the hidden net, hedging on the precipitous moment. It lengthened as she saw the boar, and she saw the ropes pulled taut, cutting the air and groaning silence. When her fiery eyes turned, there was a soldier in the woods.

She lifted and the piglets squirmed free, darting into the brush. It was only precious seconds that the trap had given her, but it was enough. Her hair was wild and white as she ran toward Lokr. And the boar raged onward, dragging the arms of the trees behind as if they had been fingers. There was wide room for failure, but Semini had always considered herself to be very, very lucky.

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POSTED: Fri Jan 23, 2015 12:14 am

hark that warning whisper in your heart

The sight was one unfathomable. His eyes could only tell him what they saw; And if he believed it then he was a madman, and this was nothing new.

The girl came flying, her white hair as wild as amber sunlit eyes. She looked a vengeful Valkyrie, but for the terror alive there on her face - And with his leveled arrow he might have shot her through the heart from shock alone. He saw the piglets tumbling free of her outstretched grasp, and while his mind processed these things the boar came on and on.

It was huge, even by boar standards - A regular behemoth, muscles straining under its bristly, leathery hide. Curling from its steaming maw were two tusks fit for goring and gutting, the glory of a quick disembowelment lingering like promise in the beady black eyes of the beast. Death lingered there.

Lokr was afraid, as any creature would be; But he shoved the cold down, down his throat and into his belly where it turned to ice. As the girl ran past he raised the carven tip of the bow, and counted.

One breath, two breaths, three - NOW!

The arrow sailed free, leaving aft a single victorious note in the pure air - The piercing cry of stone through stillness, a sound equally as terrifying in its quiet as the thunderous bellow of the boar.

The chiseled head bit deep into the breast of the beast, missing its vulnerable eye by fragments of a moment. The boar foundered once, its cry stifled by shock. Lokr's breath held unending in his lungs, but he knew already that the job was not done - He had missed his mark. This might be the death of him after all.

Wounded, the beast slowed its lumbering charge, and tossed its tusked head in a fury. Lokr pulled out his hunter's dagger, sliding the wicked-looking blade free with a rasp as it released from leathery shaft. He held the carved bone hilt lightly in his hand, and stepped forward into battle.

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POSTED: Fri Jan 23, 2015 1:22 am

I wasn't sure if Lokr was on Borya still or not so I just uh, I just made assumptions. I can change! [295]


There was no measure to the weariness that wracked her body. She drank the cold air as she ran and thought her lungs would expand to the impossible length of the sky. The world was a flurry of clouds and the dark spires that caged them.

She caught the acid lure of his eyes. They were brimming with steeled terror. She passed him, feeling the arrow through her as she went; the fletching was just a stroke against her cheek. She was reminded briefly of the brook by her mother's garden. Her mind flirted with the idiosyncrasy of the moment, and she thought beyond herself of how adrenaline stirred the strangest memories. Later she would tug at this image and recover the mossy green bone, and remember how vivid it had been, lurking in the rusted ribbons of soil and silt.

Semini flew to Borya's kind side and sought a space to breathe near his staggering huffs. The animal was distraught, and she lifted her arms to touch and calm him - calm herself - and let her head fall against his plush neck, to hide the immensity of her gasps. Her legs felt shattered, and she knew that if the boar continued that she would never move. Everything was spent.

But it did not go on. The beast had let an arrow to its breast (or else to its eye, which was a much less forgiving area) and still staggered forward, full of stubborn hatred for the two who stole. They were thieves. Careless, fragile thieves who smashed and took what did not belong to them. The forest belonged to the boar. The young belonged to the boar. And so the boar swung its mighty head, and let its tusks carry the sharpest blows.

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POSTED: Fri Jan 23, 2015 1:48 am

hark that warning whisper in your heart

He knew, the kind of knowing that came with fear, that this would be a fight for his life.

The girl was safe now, though that was more a byproduct of his intervention than intent. If the boar killed him and resumed its chase, Borya would take her far from here. There he held resolve; Nothing was fleeter than the antlered stag in chase, and if he was to die, then at least the girl might take his story on her ships and over her oceans and make a legend out of him.

That was a different kind of immortality - But immortality all the same. The stories would live on long past bones bleaching on the canopy floor.

And so the boar came on. In its nearness he could see the rage of it, so primal and beautiful, so wrathful and lovely. There could be no greater anger than this, and he was in awe of it. Circling, the hunter hunched low to the earth, dagger in palm. A sweetness to the air told him the boar was bleeding freely of the wound in its chest.

Then it charged.

He felt the tusks rake his side and heard the tear of leather there; And when he slashed down he caught an eye and half-blinded the thing. It screamed murder to the air and he was breathless, soundless, silent; A slash and a dodge, a charge and a wheeling. There was a wetness down the right side of his ribs, and Lokr knew the tusks had found his flesh - But there was no time for pain.

If he was a proud creature then it was all for this; Lokr Revlis had survived the fell forest, and determined now not to be killed by a mortal boar.

Black lips pulled back into a snarl as they engaged again, and this time when the boar caught him his vision went white for a moment. In this blindness the Lord felt for his chance and, breath whistling with exhaustion from his chest, heaved his weight through the wicked dagger and into the boar's skull.

They slumped as one to the ground.

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POSTED: Fri Jan 23, 2015 2:57 am

*vaguely addresses wounds* I'm sorry ;o; [385]


The boar was no predator. It was a defender, greedy in its girth, hoarding its earthen domain so close to its breast that it eventually succumbed to it. It was nature's duty to betray, as it was to challenge all of its inventions. In the end, what their collision amounted to was appetite. A predator did not look to kill when they were satisfied, but when they roamed, they did so with the all the force of adamant survival. They needed immortality and they knew just one way to achieve it. By the hunter's lean frame and his caustic eyes, the fight had been determined from the start. Lokr had been hungry in his life, his very nature was starved, and that was why he succeeded.

Semini released Borya, and the noble animal raised its antlers high with anticipation. The wind mimicked the great struggle in the trees, whistling and wheeling and then collapsing into silence. She watched the suspension of their forms, tangled in the snow.

And when she thought her body would not move, she willed it again. The winter could not freeze her there. She came swiftly to the hunter and reached for him. Her pale hands were like water as they sought his wounds, trickling across the torn leather and seeping into rent flesh. Then they drew the dampness of his hair aside and swept along the pathways of his narrow structures, like the brook in her memory, of a summer garden and the hush of discovery. "Lokr," she summoned, and thumbed away what stray matter did not belong on him. "Lokr."

Clopping hooves reminded her of the moment, and she looked to Borya and the fell boar. Her hair slipped along her shoulders as she loosened the shirt from her chest. She gasped with the cold but did not stop. She strung it forcefully around his middle, throwing the knot with ease and all the while seeking his emerald gleam. The fabric tore as it was stretched and conformed to fit beneath his garments, rubbing the tender flesh and binding it tight. Her eyes ignited as she loosed a ragged exhale. There was too much pride in him, she thought. Borya could have taken him away, she thought. "Lokr," she breathed again, and the waves within her pulled.

Last edited by Semini on Fri Jan 23, 2015 5:19 am, edited 1 time in total.
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POSTED: Fri Jan 23, 2015 3:31 am

hark that warning whisper in your heart

Unconsciousness did not find him sweetly. He fought it as viciously as he had fought the boar, and was thus aware of the girl as she crossed to him.

Her fingers were cold where they touched and wandered; Cold like icemelt, seeping in tight to freeze the parts of him that burned and pulled apart.

Lokr, she called to him, and it was his mother's voice he heard - How far had his mind wandered? Untethered by the pain of things his memories flowed soft and deadly, a current in the deep that threatened to pull him under. He did not want to see the things he knew; Did not care to hear just now the sounds of his mother's voice.

For it meant death, he knew; Only in dying would he allow himself such pity.

Lokr, the girl said again, and this time her voice was the forest, breathing in around him; It was gulls shrieking over the high bluffs of home. These were not memories but moments in time that existed beyond him - Lokr would be born, and live, and die; And still the gulls would shriek high over the bluffs of home.

Lokr, again came the voice, and this time it was hers alone. Semini, he thought unbidden, and felt the fabric tighten about his chest. Slowly, black lashes pulled back, and he looked up into the weary concern of her face. "Do not cry," The dark one said, in a breathless kind of way - Uncertain if it were tears on her face, or the crystals of snow melting in pale eyelashes. One black hand reached for the soft lines of her face, so wild, so terribly terribly sad for one so young and beautiful. "You are safe, now." Darkness threatened the corner of his vision, but the Lord Commander managed a grim smile nonetheless.

The motion of reaching stretched at his side, and a gasp escaped his clenched jaw; Pain shot bleakly across the man's face, and he was still and placid again.

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POSTED: Fri Jan 23, 2015 5:15 am

;o; i was excited to post but i fell asleep and woke up and fell asleep i'm sorry for typos ;o; also um lemme know if change anything [602]


There would be a sharpness at his revival and she watched for it. But his being did not draw like the sting of his blade or any of the hidden daggers Salsola had reared in him. He unraveled as it was natural for one of wood and green, slowly unveiling his awareness like the forest in the spring. The woods had made a home in him. Her eyes were wide with the brush of his fingers -- the graze of his fletching -- and she was still. Semini had always been currents of movement and trembling, restless hands. She could not freeze, and yet she lingered there with the air in her throat, and caught with a secret of Lokr's nature. Semini did not know the value of such pearls, and especially not from one with as many enemies as the dark rider, but they were safe in the deep of her wild and limitless heart.

She breathed into his palm. There was a hum of gratitude on her lips that came with no sound. She could not relinquish the moment that had passed. Her chest forever stirred with the losses of living, and each breath was never more difficult to give to the high steeples of their enclosure. It all felt too close - the death, the savior, the hunter and the hunger. If her eyes wavered it was because they blazed. "God," she trembled, and grabbed his hand, and listened to the light in the trees and counted the ghosts of their muzzles as they expired into day.

He recoiled in pain. Her image swelled, roiled by their circumstances and her awareness of it. The white of her hair gleamed for the night that would be setting in only a few hours.

"Don't," she bit, unclear if it was to herself or to him, and then stood. She was a new self then, and when she crossed to Borya for a pack or supplies to help him more, her features were luminous and grown. Duty had made an early woman of Semini.

It seemed he had traveled with very little that day, perhaps with the intention to check his own traps. Certainly not to fight a giant boar. Her own supplies were far away, near the snare that had kept the wild piglets. She knew a balm was there - the last one that she had not traded for salt or other more practical items. It was the last of Bathurst. A moment passed where she considered this. Her gaze fell to Borya. She feared him, as she did all animals which were hooved and formidable.

Her footfalls came like soft rainfall, and she swept to Lokr again. "I'm going to return," she told him, her palm brushing out the snow that had flurried with her haste and settled in his hair. As she began to stand again, she hesitated, and then returned to his side. "I.." her mouth, for once, seemed dry. "I don't want to go." Her watchful eyes held to his own. She was startled by this admission, though her brows were tense and forceful with its exposure. "But I'm coming back. Don't leave," she said to him. Her fingers betrayed the erratic rhythm of her heart, their lines curling and uncurling at her knees. And then she summoned her will and felt as if she was diving again into the raging sea, her arms holding out to Borya and lifting to his back. Semini was not a graceful rider, but necessity could make a motion smooth.

She set out, and would be back soon.

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POSTED: Fri Jan 23, 2015 6:01 am

hark that warning whisper in your heart

Her breath was warm where his palm lay pressed, to ivory cheek upturned in the swell.

He wondered if when she looked, she saw another man. Her eyes told him that they had seen cruel things, bloody things, before. Had she lost a lover in a way such as this? Fate did wicked things to pretty young innocents. Lokr knew this, as more than once he had been fate's instrument for wickedness.

That seemed a world away now. There was a sweetness to her sorrow that fed him. Don't, she said, and he wanted to reassure her - kindly, gently, and these were new things to him - but the pain was too great, and so he only smiled a quiet, frigid smile.

She rose then, and in her absence he felt cold, and alone, and the fear from the boar began to seep up from the cold ground and into him. But he could hear her, still; And when he tilted his head the dark one could peer with glazed eyes as she moved about the massive stag. He craved her return like the ground craves rain, and she was a sweet summer fall as she came, a blessing.

Lokr wanted to tell her not to leave. He wanted to tell her many things, but was quiet until she rose and left again; And when the sound of Borya's hoofbeats at last fell to silence he was dreadfully, dreadfully alone.

Time passed. The snow thickened where it fell and though he felt nothing Lokr knew he was cold, growing colder still. Able to do little more, he moved at last - Slowly, tentatively, like a weak child who knows nothing of how to run - to the side of the boar. In death, it held little of the splendor it had in life. Without the anger it was just flesh, and fur, and bone; And Lokr became afraid.

The Lord sat propped against the shaggy mountain, clutching loosely at his bandaged side. The dark drew in, and his mind began to loosely wander, far to where the white-haired girl rode a forest-spirit through the falling snow.

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