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| Two roads diverged in a yellow wood; Dittany returns; | |||
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jul 13 2014, 01:55 PM (477 Views) | |||
| mysterious_blue | Jul 13 2014, 01:55 PM Post #1 | ||
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![]() Lines © SomeLines. Lineart coloured by Reli / Savvy Dittany ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Long shadows slowly retreated as rose steadily above the horizon. The two impossibly tall towers, for which this land had been named, stood as dark silhouettes against the brightening sky. Weeping towers was considered a sacred territory and, in past times, ownership of it had been the cause of many a battle between stallions. It was at times like these that one knew why it was placed in such high demand. Perhaps that was why Dittany had returned here. She felt drawn to this place, though she found it difficult to explain. It was not overly familiar to the maiden who was accustomed to the extremes of the desert lands, nor did any of her family reside here. Though he was kind and selfless enough to offer her aid in her time of need, Dittany felt no real attraction to the stallion who lived here. In all honesty, the golden mare wasn’t sure she could ever truly trust another equine again. ~~~~~ The Kathiawari stood grazing, her newborn curled up on the ground just a few feet away. Without intending to, the mare’s gaze kept sweeping back to the form of the slumbering infant, checking that she had neither wandered off nor gotten herself into any form of mischief. A snort of mild frustration is blown into the ground as Dittany averts her eyes; she still didn’t know what to do or if she could cope with being a mother to this particular filly. The regal mare could never forget what that stallion had done to her, nor could she ever forgive him for his crimes … but, even so, could she be cruel enough to abandon the filly? Perhaps it wouldn’t be cruel – if Dittany could never bring herself to truly care for the child, then surely she’d be much better off being adopted by another mare. The debate raged back and forth in the mare’s head even as she grazed, still instinctively checking on the newborn every now and again. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ariadne Dittania Lasithi Minoa |
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| `d e p p | Jul 15 2014, 03:23 PM Post #2 | ||
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I think everybody's nuts.
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Edited by `d e p p, Jul 16 2014, 04:39 PM.
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Remember...if you feel glum, just shake your bum! #EpicStrut ![]() paper faces on parade; | |||
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| madie | Jul 17 2014, 10:50 PM Post #3 | ||
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_______________________ There is a certain innocence that makes up a newborn life. She, this creation that has been brought into the world, is delicate and helpless. Without her mother’s milk and guidance she is sure to wither away, or succumb to the predators that lay in wait for young meat to stumble into greedy jaws. For now the newborn filly is immune to such worries. She has not yet seen the monsters that crawl through the night. Still, she clings to the only thing she knows, the voice she has heard since before birth. The world has been laid out before her, and she is small in comparison. The journey to The Weeping Towers has exhausted the filly. She now sleeps in the swaying grasses nearby her mother. She still wears the blossom, battered by the journey, that her mother placed in her mane the day the filly was born. She knows not how long she sleeps, for time has little meaning to someone so young. Soon enough, however, a voice lulls her from her slumber. Her eyes flutter against Prime’s light, blinking back the bleariness that momentarily keeps her from focusing on the dark figure that (from her view) seems to stand as tall as the towers themselves. The filly comes to stand on legs that seem far too long for her body, lazily shaking away sleep before making her way to her mother’s side. She acts on pure instinct, returning to the only safe place that she knows. The warmth of her mother’s barrel is a comfort to her. Yet it is not in her to cower from this masculine stranger. She regards him with a stoical stare, for she knows not how to react to such situations. Perhaps, this would be her first lesson in conversation… or just words in general. ______________eidothea;___ |
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![]() antimony . balor . chaul . desdemona . eidothea . malady . opium . rowtag . ryse . scorn . sköll | |||
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| mysterious_blue | Aug 27 2014, 05:37 PM Post #4 | ||
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![]() Lines © SomeLines. Lineart coloured by Reli / Savvy Dittany ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Fatigue does not prevent the mare from noticing the approach of another equine. Though her curled lobes remain forwards, her gaze flicks back to her slumbering daughter, checking that she was still nearby. Instinct was not something that Dittany could fight and, thus far, her morals had prevented her from simply abandoning the child. But she could potentially walk away now; the newborn was so tired that she probably wouldn’t be capable of following, and the golden mare didn’t doubt that Aeson would find the youngster and a suitable substitute mother for her … yet still Dittany stayed. ~~~~~ Gaze is brought back to the line of trees before her, watching as the stallion’s form emerges from the shadows. Lobes flick back for a moment before turning forwards once more, her emotions conflicting again. She knew she was vulnerable – sore and exhausted from the ordeal of foaling and the journey back immediately after, but Aeson had shown her nothing but kindness and patience despite the mare’s moods. Yet Dittany couldn’t bring herself to trust him completely … she would never be able to forget or forgive what Still had done to her and her family. His actions may well have wiped out the majority of her kin and destroyed the life that she had once lived as a royal in the desert lands. He had not been what he seemed, his appearance had been deceptive – what was to say that this stallion wasn’t going to be the same? ~~~~~ Silvery strands flick around the new mother’s haunches as Aeson approached, unintentionally displaying her anxiety. Her head was raised so that she could meet the male’s gaze, but fatigue and aching muscles prevented her from retaining her regal posture. Chocolate-coloured eyes quickly scan the stallion’s features and body-language, though she finds nothing that suggests sinister about his approach. Dittany notices the stallion’s gaze flick across the clearing to where the infant was now rising to her hooves, but his attention quickly turns back to the mare, offering a welcome along with an “I hope all went well.” as if she had simply gone off on an errand, rather than having to endure one of the most traumatic experiences of her life. Thankfully, the golden maiden was too weary to respond with any real fervour. “Yes … thank you.” Dittany’s gaze awkwardly wavers away from the stallion’s, her newborn choosing this moment to provide a distraction as she wobbled up to her mother’s side. The golden turned to the child, hesitating for a moment before gently pushing the withered flower more securely into the filly’s mane. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ariadne Dittania Lasithi Minoa |
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| `d e p p | Sep 4 2014, 11:41 PM Post #5 | ||
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I think everybody's nuts.
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Remember...if you feel glum, just shake your bum! #EpicStrut ![]() paper faces on parade; | |||
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| mysterious_blue | Oct 18 2014, 07:00 PM Post #6 | ||
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![]() Lines © SomeLines. Lineart coloured by Reli / Savvy Dittany ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Thea The filly’s gaze remained trained on the brindled male that had approached, her head turned slightly to one side in an obvious display of curiosity. Aside from her dam, Aeson was the first equine that the nameless newborn had met, and he was vastly different to anything that she had encountered previously. He stood taller than her mother, he sounded different and his scent was strange. A delicate touch from her dam distracted the filly briefly, a squeaky nicker released as she wobbled a little closer to her mother’s golden form. Once relatively steady on her hooves again, the bay filly fixes her gaze back on the towering stallion. ***** Dittany’s muzzle lifted away from the newborn after a fleeting touch, still trying to ignore her maternal instincts though finding it increasingly difficult to do so. The brindled stallion’s compliment distracts her briefly, the maiden taking a moment to ponder the words before her neck turns so that she can see the filly a little better. “I .. I suppose she is.” The mare’s gaze softened slightly, maybe starting to look at her daughter in a new light. She would never be able to forget who the filly’s sire was or the circumstances surrounding her conception – but one thing in the newborn’s favour was her appearance. She looked nothing like Still and, aside from a slight curve in her profile, it was almost impossible to tell that she had Arabian blood in her veins. The tips of her ears were delicately curved, not as much as her mother’s but that wasn’t necessarily unusual for the Kathiawari breed. An outsider may not be able to tell the difference, but dittany didn’t know if she’d ever be able to look past it. ~~~~~ Aeson’s next question draws the maiden’s attention, her gaze turned away from her newborn and towards the male who remained standing at a respectful distance. “What have you named her?” In truth, she hadn’t. Of course she’d picked out a name and one that was suitable for the title that the filly would inherit, but Dittany had yet to speak it. After all, if she was going to hand over the youngster to another mare, they would undoubtedly want to name her. Perhaps it was simply better to never tell the filly about the bloodline she belonged to, or how or why it was now in ruins. Perhaps it was better that she knew nothing of their ancient traditions – including the purpose of the withered bloom which clung to her mane. Is ignorance not bliss? ~~~~~ Silvery strands swish around the maiden’s hindquarters wearily, her lobes flicking back for a moment as she dithered over her answer. Even as a regal equine, she couldn’t deny that Aeson had gone out of his way to try and make her feel welcome, despite her attitude. It was not personal. Dittany had been thrown from one lifestyle to another – one moment surrounded by a herd, guards, advisors and holding a position of power … to nothing. If the brindled male knew of her past, perhaps he’d understand the maiden better, perhaps he could help to ease her pain or at least look beyond the past. But she couldn’t be sure of that. Perhaps he’d think her petty or weak or perhaps he’d take advantage. ~~~~~ It takes an almost physical effort to lay the ‘what ifs’ to rest. Her nasals flare as she takes a steadying breath, doing her best to hold Aeson’s gaze though she failed fairly miserably towards the end. “I’ve not given her a name yet. I … I don’t know if-“ The Kathiawari had to pause, composing herself again before trying to complete the sentence she’d left hanging in the air. “I’m not sure that I can be a mother to her.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ariadne Dittania Lasithi Minoa |
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| `d e p p | Nov 18 2014, 03:29 PM Post #7 | ||
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I think everybody's nuts.
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OOC: I'm so sorry it's taken me so long!![]() Lines © LadyX-LT. ___________________________________________________________________ A E S O N Let me out of this dream . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I do not notice the golden mare’s hesitation at first, or the silence that stretches between us as she appears to contemplate a proper response to my seemingly innocent questions. At the moment, my attention is largely—if not a bit indirectly —focused on the gangly young filly that lingers at her mother’s side. Still, she stares! Staring…that must be the norm, there is no indication that it is otherwise; at least in my insignificant experience with foals, Dittany’s filly is as healthy and bright as any other. Surely she must be proud. I purse my darkened lips, musing to myself and sparing the bay newborn a fleeting direct glance. I deny to myself how silly I feel, acting this way around a foal, but I would venture to guess that I am just about as curious of her as she is of me. Will I be this awkward and useless around my own children? Oh dear… now that’s a disconcerting thought. Shaking it off and returning my attention to Dittany, it is only now that I catch a glimpse of her uncertainty. One of my ears pricks sharply in her direction as my brown eyes rest on her face, my other ear swiveling forward to match the other as she finally speaks with cautious tones. I’ll admit, her words catch me off-guard (to say the least). “What do you mean, Dittany?” I inquire of her, though there is no trace of condemnation or judgment in my voice. I am concerned for her, honestly, even if it is a bit lost in my confusion in the sudden turn of events. “I don’t mean to be nosy, but—I’m afraid I don’t understand,” okay, that isn’t entirely true. I do most definitely understand how terrifying the idea of being a parent is, and doubting your ability to do so—welcome to my life. However, Dittany hasn’t come off as the insecure type before—why now? Hasn’t she wanted to be a mother? Flicking my black tail softly around my hocks, I venture a single step forward, extending my muzzle in both concern and confusion. I’m not quite sure what to do next—what I should do next. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ‘I can't turn this around, I keep running into walls that I can't break down — LET ME OUT OF THIS DREAM.’ zebroid hybrid stallion | rowan x siason | seven years old | seal bay w/striped legs & brown eyes | neutral | 16hh |
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Remember...if you feel glum, just shake your bum! #EpicStrut ![]() paper faces on parade; | |||
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| mysterious_blue | Dec 12 2014, 10:01 PM Post #8 | ||
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![]() Lines © SomeLines. Lineart coloured by Reli / Savvy Dittany ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The palomino knew what the stallion was going to ask of her, even before the words had even passed his lips, and she knew she couldn’t avoid the question - yet giving an answer meant admitting to her shortcomings. She knew now that she had been naïve, but aside from running away from the Arab brute, there was nothing she could have done differently. Even fleeing wouldn’t have provided a solution; her kin were still dying out and she still would have been expected to play her part in keeping the bloodline alive. Regardless of her actions, the outcome would have likely been the same, though that particular truth wasn’t a comforting one. ~~~~~ Aeson’s movement doesn’t go completely unnoticed. The maiden simply couldn’t bring herself to meet the male’s gaze or return his gesture – but she doesn’t back away either. Nasals flared wide, taking in a deep breath before she dared to respond to the brindled equine. When the words finally came to her, they were spoken in slightly hushed tones, almost as if trying to hide the truth from the newborn filly which lingered at her side. ”I never wanted a foal. I was obliged to carry one.” Dittany had to pause, lids closing over her dark eyes while she struggled to retain her composure. Perhaps being forced to explain her situation would make it easier to accept in the long run … nonetheless it was agonising for her to recollect now. And it wasn’t going to go away or be forgotten easily. ~~~~~ “Now … I just don’t know what to do with her.” There was no denying that the bay filly at her side needed a mother – she simply wouldn’t survive without a mare to provide for her. While Dittany was still uncertain about her suitability for the role and despite the circumstances surrounding the newborn’s conception, the Kathiawari would never wish for any harm to come to her firstborn. For a mare who had had her life practically decided for her, dictated by tradition and ritual, facing a decision as huge as this was crippling. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ariadne Dittania Lasithi Minoa |
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| `d e p p | Dec 13 2014, 10:51 PM Post #9 | ||
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I think everybody's nuts.
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![]() Lines © LadyX-LT. _______________________________________________________________________ A E S O N Let me out of this dream . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Not for the first (or second) time, I wonder if I have overstepped my boundaries—again. Though seemingly an innocent enough question, it might have been too bold; Dittany and I haven’t exactly been open to each other about everything, after all. I refrain from fidgeting, releasing a slow and heavy breath from my nostrils as my dark eyes remain fixed on the mare’s blazed face. But then again, I reason with myself, I don’t think I had necessarily instigated it, right? She had offered a rather puzzling statement herself, and it would only be natural for me to try and understand more. So trying to settle the noise in my silly thoughts, I wait for the words that finally come. Dittany’s voice is softer than usual, as though hidden from the bay filly at her side. What she says, well, I had not been expecting it. For a short moment I feel a coldness spread quickly over my body, freezing my muscles, and I am not quite sure what kind of expression becomes encapsulated on my face. The idea should not be so shocking for me. While I would never dream of forcing a mare into foal through deceit or obligation myself, it was not something below my father. He hadn’t been as bad as some other Dark stallions, but the greed was there all the same. Still, I guess I had just assumed…that Dittany had wanted to be a mother. Fortunately her eyes are closed most of the time, and so I can only hope she hadn’t seen my initial reaction—if anything, I am grateful for her honesty, and her ability to trust in me. Well, let’s not be too hasty here—but it’s as good a start as any. I compose myself properly as she continues, my gaze flickering to the nameless newborn. “I don’t know of any mares who are able to care for her—but I can search,” my attention shifts back to the golden Kathiawari and holding her eye for a moment (or at least trying to). “Or I could help you, if you’d like, should she stay here—y’know, protection and support and all that good stuff,” I bob my head once, not wanting Dittany think I am trying to force myself into being an adoptive father or anything (the word father of any sort sends numb nerves through me…the idea of protector or something is much more comfortable to settle in). “Dittany…” I continue hesitantly, my gaze flickering to the grass almost shyly before returning to her, “Not that I have much experience, but…I think you could make a good mother.” I attempt a reassuring smile, but it feels too stiff and uncomfortable on my lips, so it fades quickly. “I’ll support whatever your decision is, though,” I flick my tail around my hocks, hoping that I haven’t made her feel worse. I realize that this is the first insight that she has given me into her obscure past, however small it might be—and I don’t want to abuse that. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ‘I can't turn this around, I keep running into walls that I can't break down — LET ME OUT OF THIS DREAM.’ zebroid hybrid stallion | rowan x siason | seven years old | seal bay w/striped legs & brown eyes | neutral | 16hh |
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Remember...if you feel glum, just shake your bum! #EpicStrut ![]() paper faces on parade; | |||
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