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if this is the end, then what's done is done;; challenge for weeping towers
Topic Started: Jun 21 2013, 01:32 AM (440 Views)
madie
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The journey from the Weeping Towers was one filled with frost and late winter snow. The tides that had pushed him to and fro about the ocean were merciless and icy. He welcomed the sight of the shoreline, all but collapsing on the pale sands. Water dripped slowly down his sides, forming icicles along the hairs of his neck and belly. His muscles quivered feebly. It had been far too long since he had ventured far from the Homeless Grounds. The Battle Grounds (stained with blood and snow) lay an ocean away from his common haunts.

He pulled himself from the ever changing shoreline, leaving pools of icy water behind in his large hoof prints. The land was still, not even the slightest wind to steal his warmth, only seeping cold. Icarus scouted out a small, well used clearing (nose hovered just above the ground as he walked with sweeping strides). The ground was littered with frozen hoof marks and sparse clumps of brown grass remaining from the summer previous. The footing was not ideal, but there were no rocks to be seen.

Prime rested high in the sky, with impotent rays that did little to thaw the frozen terrain. Icarus’ deep set eyes searched the horizon for the stallion that might answer his challenge. He stills somewhere near the middle of the clearing, neck arched and ears pricked to catch the sounds within the silence.

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antimony . balor . chaul . desdemona . eidothea . malady . opium . rowtag . ryse . scorn . sköll
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devotchka
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WELL SWEET MOTHER TERESA ON THE HOOD OF A MERCEDES BENZ

OOC :: I am currently on vacation until July, and by chance saw this challenge. I am perfectly happy to battle anytime after the 30th June, but right now I do not have the time.
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in these cages we call walls ~
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madie
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ooc: not to argue with you, as I completely understand the stresses of having a full time job, but you have been posting other places. which, if you are on away, you shouldn't be able to do. you can probably see my confusion there.

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antimony . balor . chaul . desdemona . eidothea . malady . opium . rowtag . ryse . scorn . sköll
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madie
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ooc: i will reply here come July 1st with a new battle scenario, as the seasons have changed. We can start from there.

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antimony . balor . chaul . desdemona . eidothea . malady . opium . rowtag . ryse . scorn . sköll
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madie
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ooc: This is a challenge to Perseus (devotchka) for the Weeping Towers and whatever mares there may be there. This is effective today. /ooc

He had been waiting; waiting until the frost and snow cocooned his dark body. The cold had stolen the warmth from his breath and devoured the very marrow of his bones. Winter had left him hollow, with eyes that searched the horizon endlessly. The Towers, he knew, would not come at an easy price. So even as the last of the winter snow turned to mud, and Evangelik waited in the relative safety of Dreamscapes, Icarus watched the horizon where the sea meets the sky. The ever changing shoreline seemed to lie to him, creating fables against the pale sand.

Like clockwork he makes a patrol of the island, noting the various battles for lands and mares. All in all despite the bickering and the shrill battle cries of the young and inexperienced the island was rather quiet. Icarus had been watching, gathering tactics from the others that sparred along the sands and stone. The battles here were quick, lustless. A mere kick to the ribs or a bite to the neck and it would seem things fizzled out. His eyes narrowed quizzically at a nearby dispute between two younger stallions.

This was not war.

He returns to his chosen place of battle, the benefit of being the first to arrive, taking care to walk carefully along the wet sands. Icarus was quite nimble for his heritage, having stolen the lighter characteristics of his parents mixed ancestry. Still, there was no denying the coldness of his blood, evident in his thick, lightly feathered legs. The sands swallowed his legs, shifting beneath his weight. Spring had softened the ground.

Prime hangs heavily against a group of trees, warm rays piercing Icarus’ dark fur, alighting it into shades of liver chestnut and fiery hazel. He comes to rest somewhere in the middle of the sandy, somewhat circular, clearing after taking note of the deeper spots in the ground that one should avoid. There was one boggy area along the treeline to the west, and another towards the ocean to the north. The center of the clearing seemed to be rather firm and packed, perhaps due to use as a battle arena in the past.

Icarus’ watches, waiting as he had through the very last embraces of winter. The cold no longer stole his breathe into oblivion... Instead his warmth seems to grow like the salt grasses. His lungs swell with the salty, sea air. Let today be the day when the Weeping Towers and any mare who remained within its borders be his. His lungs expel with a call that summons Perseus of the Towers to defend his land and mares. Icarus would not have to wait much longer.

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antimony . balor . chaul . desdemona . eidothea . malady . opium . rowtag . ryse . scorn . sköll
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devotchka
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WELL SWEET MOTHER TERESA ON THE HOOD OF A MERCEDES BENZ
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so i'll put my faith, into something unknown
hybrid . buckskin splash . blue colored eyes . 16hh . neutral . weeping towers
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in these cages we call walls ~
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madie
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His would-be opponent comes with the swelling of the tide (swallowing up the sands and replacing them with sea foam). For a moment Icarus believes the stallion to be another story told by the tide. He has waited so long. The turmoil and doubt that writhe within him, however, are smothered by the stoic expression he wears. He rests a hind hoof against the packed sand upon which he stands. Perseus nears, sea water trailing back into the tide, and Icarus watches.

The stallion stops a fair distance away and Icarus’ dark eyes devour him with quick precision. Perseus is of lighter build, but he is not frail. His opponent's pale eyes meet with the endless shades of brown that make up his own. Icarus offers a nod in greeting. No need to forget his manners.

He listens with a gleam in his eye, hungry for whatever offer this stallion brings. Though, he must admit that he is a little disappointed that all of his waiting will bring no battle, he is content with what the other lays before him.

“I will not separate you from your family.” Icarus says in a voice as deep as the sea. “I accept these terms, Perseus.” He returns the weight to his hind leg, flicking his wavy tail. Again, he nods towards the lightly painted stallion before returning once more into the ocean’s salty grasp.

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antimony . balor . chaul . desdemona . eidothea . malady . opium . rowtag . ryse . scorn . sköll
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