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flying towards an early grave;; elia.neutral.14.3hh.rafexmadrid||OPEN
Topic Started: May 28 2014, 10:53 PM (191 Views)
Magnanimous
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ELIA

The petite mare grins at the snowfall. This is her favorite season; fall isn't awful on her allergies, but the icy blanket that comes with winter makes her feel like she actually has a chance at surviving. Sure, she's probably being a bit dramatic, since the allergies that plague her during spring and summer aren't really anything more than unfortunate and irritating, not actually dangerous. The hives are unpleasant but bearable--even if they're ugly. It's probably best that her first attempt at finding a claimer is in the dead of winter.

So Elia may have some issues, but right now? Everything is frozen and even as shivers wrack Elia's small frame (the swim from the Southern Mainland is bad enough when it's warm--but now, with the water frozen? It's practically unbearable) the potential has her grinning.

She ignores the little voice in the back of her head that sounds suspiciously like her sire, telling her how pointless this little venture is--obviously no respectable or useful stallion would want her around. Instead, the pretty bay mare braces herself with her mother's words of courage. She grins at the thought, and spares a moment to wonder after her brother--she hasn't seen her twin in months.

Shaking off the worry he may be in trouble, Elia settles beneath the bare bones of a frosted tree. She's a little unsure of the protocols of homeless, exactly, but it seems like if she wants attention, she'll have to ask for it. So Elia calls out, high and sweet, and settles in to wait for any suitor. Surely, her father can't be right? There must be a single stallion in all of Kormada that wants her. At this point, she'd take anything.

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we are not things; those were her words!
salome | ishtar | piper| riesling | rani | anael | iscaie | silas | faolan | sven | nyss|

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devotchka
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WELL SWEET MOTHER TERESA ON THE HOOD OF A MERCEDES BENZ
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VAUS
'O there are days in this life, worth life and worth death'
_____________________________________________________


This winter is surely bleak, and although his home lies peaceful and still, cold yet not bothered at the lack of sun; he still chooses to be here. The Tranceland grows cold, but not as unbearable as some other continents, and his own patch of it is still fruitful even though here in the common grounds, it looks as if nothing could survive more than a day. Perhaps he is more sentimental than he first thought. In the very back of his mind is the idea, the fear, of coming across his sister’s frozen and malnourished body. She is young, deluded, and if memory serves him well enough, her body would still be healing. She is in no fit state for this weather, and Vaus half hopes he might catch a glimpse of her red coat, to persuade her to stay with him for at least the end of the season. She is family after all, and family need to be protected.

With this more protective streak with him in mind, there must be other mares out there too, desolate with no one to turn to. Not that Vaus is trying to scoop up desperate females because it’s either him or starvation, but as the days grow shorter, there does seem to be more life here. Strange how the lowering temperature brings equines out of the woodwork. Having been on the move for a whole season now, the buckskin’s body has become lean, losing any of the summer fat he had built up living a life of what now seems luxury all those seasons ago. His coat has thickened, still retaining that buttery colour, though the muscles show under the thick hair, and the northern wind has reduced his extensive mane into ropey knots. Vaus likes to think this nomadic lifestyle has left him looking rugged, and apparently mares like that.

Currently, he is on the search for water. Having found a small brook, which had no chance of thawing out in the brief turnover of sunlight that morning, he lifts one hoof, before stamping firmly on the ragged sheet of ice. The sensation of freezing water on the sole of his foot is almost as bad as it is on the teeth. Vaus snorts in discomfort, lifting his foot back up again and placing it back on the snow, the feathery trimmings clinging to his pastern in a slick. Cautiously he drinks, purely because he does not want to experience that cold shock again, but as he gulps down the water, he hears a mare’s call in the distance. Smallish ears swivel in her direction as he glances up, droplets of water clinging to his coal lips as Vaus abandons his water source. Someone else could make use of it.

She is very easy to spot against the alabaster of her surroundings, her pretty bay coat is useless here though it probably serves her very well at camouflaging in the warmer months. He strains his dark eyes, and from here, she looks quite petite. A change for the Welsh hybrid, who is most certainly a horse in stature, but not the tallest. He whinnies back to her, surprised no one else has ventured near her, as she is out in the open, before trundling off towards her at a steady trot. He has to slow though, as the slope towards her is heavy with snow and it soon clings to his black feathers. She is quite small now he is closer, and with a pang of worry, Vaus can’t help but compare her stature to Taryn’s, if she is still alive.

‘Hello there.’ He says breezily, slowing down to walk before halting in front of her. She is rather lovely, and he bobs his head in a greeting. ‘My name is Vaus, what is yours?’ He doesn’t go in for the formal business. He has heard some stallions use archaic terms and for him they are outdated. The best way to speak to a lady is in direct terms, after all, this is a decision that is going to affect the rest of her life. He might as well be upfront about it.

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in these cages we call walls ~
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Magnanimous
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ELIA;;

It's almost immediate, the approach from a stallion. Elia turns and grins at him, and it does not go unnoticed, how much larger he is than her. He's not terribly tall, but he's bulkier than any equine she has ever seen before; where Elia normally feels slim, she now feels waifish. Skittish for a moment, Elia flicks an ear back and shifts nervously away before forcing herself to settle.

This is exactly what she came for, to find a stallion that might be interested. And the speed with which this one responded leads her to think that he'd already been looking. He's handsome, Elia can give him that much. His coat is a pretty, thick golden yellow and he may not be as bold as the equines she is used to (her father is an eye-turner, and the constant parade of mares and her half-sisters are no different) but he is definitely a handsome male.

When he stops, it is a polite distance away and the grin on Elia's face still hasn't gone away. She shivers once, with the cold, but bobs her head in response. "Hello Vaus, I'm Elia. It's lovely to meet you!"



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we are not things; those were her words!
salome | ishtar | piper| riesling | rani | anael | iscaie | silas | faolan | sven | nyss|

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devotchka
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WELL SWEET MOTHER TERESA ON THE HOOD OF A MERCEDES BENZ
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VAUS
'O there are days in this life, worth life and worth death'
_____________________________________________________


At first, Vaus thinks his tactics have worked. Tactics is the wrong word – rather, a lack of. He tries to be himself as much as possible. She grins at him, and the buckskin offers a smile back, happy to see that his friendliness has been rewarded. Some mares march round the common grounds like they don’t want to be talked to, and although the Welsh hybrid can see why it would be an uncomfortable place to be if you were of the female variety, they surely came for some interaction on some level. The lady in front of him seems to hesitate, suddenly growing shy and she skitters away from him. From past experience, Vaus knows better than to crowd her, if she is feeling nervous that will only make her worse, and remains planted where he first arrived. Hopefully she would settle, and she did only moments later.

Fortunately, she still seems pleased to see him, which assures the stocky stallion internally. He likes her attitude, and hopefully by talking to her he would like some more than just her smile and her looks, which are both lovely. Whilst his thick coat is more than able to keep the cold away, Vaus almost feels a little hot with all the exercise he has done today, she is shivering, and the buckskin wonders how long she has been homeless for. The little bay mare is very petite, and without a constant supply of food, she could waste away quickly. He feels sorry for her as she shivers, although is not able to empathise, but he bobs his head when she does out of politeness. Manners will get an equine very far. She introduces herself as Elia, a pretty name, and he can’t help but smile at her chirpiness. ‘It’s nice to meet you too, Elia.’ He replies after her, letting the sound of her name get accustomed to his mouth.

Vaus isn’t into the direct treatment of homeless. From the conversations he has been in, it seems that after the names, stallions get straight into what their lands are like, and whether the mares would be happy with their exaggerated description, ready to sell their lives for face value. Seeing as no one has joined their conversation thus far, he would prefer to find out a little bit about Elia before progressing any further. ‘Would it be better if we walked? It’s not a particularly good day for standing about, and I find snow has even managed to make this place look charming.’ He says, with a grin. It is nothing compared to his home, but winter has that effect of making the ordinary beautiful. He does not move just yet, in case she would prefer to stand and talk. ‘Have you been here long? Or did I manage to catch you on your first day?’ He says with a grin.


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