feldspar

Siv Helsi · 03-08-2012, 05:56 PM

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Set in Drifter Bay.

The trail took her westward, towards the borders. Siv had discovered one of the sandy bike trails served as a wonderful riding trail, and she often exercised Hildr on this now. Spring was fast approaching, and she would need to approach Eris about her plans for the summer ritual. Before then, however, she needed to build up the area of her intended shrine. Salsola’s faith was a loosely bound one and Siv intended to seize it by the throat, merging her own beliefs with those of the ruling class—Eris’ notions of sacrifice could very well merge with her own, and the D’Angelo’s trinity reflected aspects of her own gods. It would take time, she knew, and she resolved to remain as steadfast as the ocean beating against the rock.

Hildr snorted and shook her head, ready to quicken her pace. They had traveled at a trot until the river had been reached, and crossed it at the thin junction that all of Salsola seemed to favor. Since then Siv had kept her even, but the sandy trail was familiar to the dark appaloosa and she wished to run. The she-wolf leaned forward and gave the horse her head, and their pace picked up to a canter and then faster still. A pair of dark shapes accented only by the billowing purple cape Siv wore, they flew along the sandy trail.

Caprica D'Angelo · 03-09-2012, 07:06 PM

The needle-prick of restlessness had become more of a sledgehammer pounding on her head recently. Nothing could sate her yearning heart, nor could she understand the ache. It was like a hunger she could not feed, a thirst she could not slake. Perhaps it was just the spring approaching: the earth's deep pull inside to awaken, begin living and growing once more.

Caprica could settle to nothing, no task nor pastime. Thoughts whirled in her head, half-formed. Something was nagging at her. Perhaps it was that long-ago decision she'd made to investigate the mysterious Salsola, which had almost eaten her sister, in her own words, that was. It hadn't seemed so important, up until now, when every little niggle in her mind had become a searing irritation. The dark lady was in an impulsive mood, and all but hauled her thankfully tolerant mare out of her stable to get her tacked up. Her horse quickly picked up on her mood, and became temperamental herself, spooking at moving branches and odd colour stones as they trotted through the Halcyon foothills. Caprica had no idea how long it would take, so she saved the mare's energy, keeping to a slow pace. When the pair came up against a skull-lined border of a pack, distinctively marked as one she'd heard called Inferni, the woman sighed out her frustration. The detour to the east took her away from her carefully measured North-Western line, and added time to the journey. The bay was better travelling, flat and open, and the horse appreciated the sense of freedom enough to open out into a slow canter. She had never navigated this way before and on her current line would have missed her destination completely, but to Caprica's fortune, a substantial figure showed on the horizon - a rather magnificent shape, made of two creatures and a billowing cloak, a silhouette on the wind.

Rohan's ears had pricked up. She champed on the bit, as if asking to be allowed to get nearer to the other horse. Caprica saw no reason why not, and perhaps the rider would give her directions. Closing her lower legs, she gave the horse her head and gritted her teeth as the gallop began. A pure thoroughbred, tall and muscular, Rohan could really run and her strength had only been improved by the frequent burden of her larger-than-average mistress. Caprica was still new to riding, and her posture wasn't entirely elegant as they galloped on a diagonal line to the mysterious rider... but the speed was exhilarating anyway and when Rohan's hooves hit the sand, skidded as she pivoted to join the trail behind the other horse, and she accelerated like the race-horse she could have been, Caprica found herself letting out an involuntary whoop of delight.

Siv Helsi · 03-10-2012, 03:59 PM

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Sorry this is short ;-;

Above the thunder of Hildr’s own hooves, Siv’s velvety ears caught a new and different sound. It was a horse, judging by the gait, and one nearing quickly. Black head turned to spot the brown horse and large rider nearing. Unfamiliar as they were, there was no hostility in the woman’s frame. Curious as it was, Siv had adapted to the suspicions of Salsola. She bristled under her cloak and while invisible to the newcomer, Hildr sensed her body and responded with a loud snort and increase in speed.

This was only further added to when the bay mare neared, came behind them, and then accelerated to Hildr’s side. Instinctively the mare, dominate within her own herd, saw the challenge and rose to it. Siv leaned forward to give her more freedom and the mare pulled ahead, long black-to-gray hair billowing behind her as she thundered on. Siv let out a challenging cry to the stranger, purple eyes gleaming. If she wanted a race she would have one—while Hildr was not bred for distance, she had the power of her bloodline to push her on.

Caprica D'Angelo · 03-15-2012, 08:13 AM

She was young still, but younger in mind than body. Caprica had never left the recklessness, the short-sightedness of youth behind and didn't for a second imagine that she might cause the rider to believe she was giving chase. It simply didn't occur to her the risks she was taking in putting her horse's speed to the pursuit or in causing an unknown woman to flee and lead her over unknown territory. She merely saw a chance for a challenge: a thrill, and simply didn't think that it might be taken any other way, although it was pure luck that the lady had gumption to match her own. When the cry rang out, Caprica heard the almost taunting note and knew that she was being met on her own terms, although she hadn't found room for doubt, it still spurred her forwards. She leant close to her mare's neck, rising out of the saddle a little, pressing her toes deep into the stirrups. The thoroughbred's ears flickered as if questioning her mistress' judgement, but she had the stride and heart of her forefathers. Rohan matched the other horse's pace as she accelerated, closing the gap between them. Caprica flapped at her flank with the end of the reins, trying to elicit still more speed. The tall mare snorted disapprovingly as they levelled once more with the spotted horse, but it was clear by her pricked ears she was enjoying the rare gallop, even if her mistress was neither built or practiced in the art of jockeying. While she could not outrun an Appaloosa cross in the sprint, the thoroughbred showed no signs of tiring for the middle distance and the narrow bicycle trail extended alluring and long before them.

Siv Helsi · 03-15-2012, 02:16 PM

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The back of the horse offered exhilaration in a way even her own legs could not. Siv was both in and out of control; she did not need to think as much as she was able to feel, and feel she did. Below her a beast of muscle and of speed thundered, and she could smell the air and feel it whip across her body. Perhaps this was what it was to fly, but Siv was not a woman who dreamt of such things. A calculating, savage nature within her would not allow for such fanciful dreams. Even her faith, precariously balanced with this stark wolfish nature, could not be granted too much head.

But she could lie.

Next to her a brown shape rose up, and soon they were close. High in the saddle Siv did not have the ability to spur the mare further on. It was clear to her, as Hildr’s breath became heavy and her step fell behind that of the tall thoroughbred, that this was a lost race. Siv finally acquiesced and leaned back, allowing her horse to slow gradually. Though it was clear the mare disliked having the other horse pull ahead and objected with a bodily whinny, her heavy hooves slowed to a trot with the urging of her mistress and finally to a walk—Siv was wise enough not to halt her fully, aware of the dangers of such a thing.

Caprica D'Angelo · 03-21-2012, 06:54 PM

Caprica smiled into the whipping black mane as she heard the other horse's drumming hoofbeats recede a little, and then frowned in concern to hear Rohan's harsh breathing, see the sweat breaking out on her flanks. Caprica was no easy burden, no flyweight jockey and this was a rare run. The Anatheman 'whoa'd and collected up the reins to slow her horse, feeling the sinews in her tightly-gripping legs aching as well. Well, they had been caught up in the moment, and it had been worth it for the thrill.

She looked over her shoulder, and smiled in an almost dangerous manner from beneath her sweeping fringe of hair to see the other rider still advancing down the trail, up-close still an impressive sight, darkly cloaked with the cloth hanging in such a way as to from the angle suggest the horse sported great raven's wings. To Caprica's fanciful mind, at least.

"You have a good sprinter there," she offered magnanimously, but her eyes danced to the tune of unspoken words. But I have the winner. Thankfully, her competitive nature did not come laced with quite enough stupidity to voice such thoughts aloud: besides, it was stretching the truth more than a little, but Caprica did not deny herself these moments of self-grandeur.

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