Title: You remind me of her...
Description: Seralyn
Saregona - March 14, 2008 05:37 AM (GMT)
.:Seralyn[x]MAPLEFALL:.
.:When one is paranoid, don't judge them they may have reasons that would blow your mind:.
She had been to wary to come while the sun shone upon the land, so the little 'ess had come to the claiming grounds after night had fallen upon them. She was too suspicious of the rest of the mares, and preferred her own mind for company anyway. There was nothing that annoyed her more than a giggling clique of fillies. Delighting in a high stepping two beat in her solitude, the femme crosses the flat, grassy terrain with a surprisingly blank look on her young facade. Her pale golden coat glitters underneath the moonlight as half lidded eyes that portrayed her apathy scan the landscape mechanically. She spies what looks like a meandering brook just ahead, and thinks that a drink might be a good idea.
Hmm, the brook's really exposed there... She thought, though her concern didn't show on her face (nothing ever did). She halts on the grass, feeling slightly vulnerable out in the open, and her pools follow the stream down a hill to where it forks and one flow veers off suddenly into a shady, secluded copse. The slightest shimmer of relief flickers across her eyes as she bursts into a swift gallop, her shorter legs and stockier stature no hindrance at all to her gait. She zooms over the grass, not slowing as she enters the trees but taking each obstacle, rough ground or fallen log, in her mechanical, surefooted stride. Eventually her tracking of the stream ends up at a welled up pool in the centre of the copse as she had thought it would. Slowing only slightly to plunge into the glassy pond she wades out to where the water reaches her soft belly and she sips the icy water. Underneath the night sky the water had lost all warmth and any other equine would surely baulk at the frigid liquid, but it didn't seem to bother the little mare who remains blank and unaffected as ever as she stands in the bitter depths and drinks her fill. Her thirst thoroughly quenched, she wades out again, energetically launching herself out of the water as she reaches the bank. Deciding that she thought this a nice, safe place to wait, and that if a stag wanted her he should have no trouble sniffing her out, the young mare finds herself a place to graze a bit and then sleep. She bounds up a steep rise by pool that falls off to become a cliff on the pond side that is sheltered by a great weeping willow in full bloom - a great vantage point. She greedily crops at the sweet grasses with the moon beams touching her and all around her to light up a truly romantic scene, her coat shimmering creamy gold, and the flowers of the willow are made bright white by the moon as they fall onto her back and onto the still, glassy pond making beautiful ripples.
Status: Done
Words: 488
Starring: Seralyn
OOC: Nadda [.x.] Freedom - March 28, 2008 10:26 PM (GMT)
This was the stallion's favourite time of day. He found pleasure in the quiet solitude that the cover of night brought; the stillness of the air carried with it a strangely calming air that helped to soothe his troubled mind. His pillars carried him thoughtlessly over the terrain, their destination unknown even to him. He was quite literally lost in his own thoughts. For hours he walked, shivering slightly as a cold breeze bit against his skin, until an owl hooted softly into the cold midnight air, breaking the apparent spell upon the stallion. Startled by the noise, the brujo warily pricked his ears and looked around him, only to breathe a sigh of amusement as his eyes fell upon the litte bird. As it left its temporary perch upon a nearby tree Autumn whickered a soft farewell, following it with his eyes momentarily before turning his attentions to the sky above him, carpeted with millions upon millions of stars. His eyes traced the familiar constellations which his father had taught him years ago, and a smile came to his lips as his memories came flooding back.
But now was not the time for sentiments. The stag shook his thoughts away almost angrily, all too aware that this was not the time for self-pity. The Sacreds looked to a King for strength, not to see him recalling childhood memories like a nostalgic old femme. He was Forever Autumn, the son of the old King, the stallion who barely out of colthood had the mantle of his father thrust upon him. The stallion who fell madly, hopelessly, foolishly in love, only to have his beloved stolen from him soon after. The stallion who had lost everyone he loved and was still expected to carry on regardless. Yet the emotional side of him was kept only for nights like this, when the moon shone soft upon the mountains and it seemed like the whole world was sleeping except him. To the rest of the world he was a King, a King whom to many was their one hope that peace would one day return to the lands. Yet to himself, he was merely a stallion with a heart that felt almost too tired to carry on.
A great weeping willow to his left caught his attention. Moonlight pooled upon the perfect terrain, the ripples in the pool below glinting silver, seeming to invite him in. By now Autumn had realised that these were the claiming grounds, yet he reasoned to himself that there would be no femme wandering here at this time to disturb him. Company was all he needed right now. Slowly he waded into the lake, his silver coat seeming to glow with an almost ghostly sheen as he bathed in the moonlight. Although the water was chilled, almost uncomfortably so, the stallion paid the protestations of his body no heed and waded deeper and deeper into the pond, his now sodden mane and forelock flopping into his eyes which created a rugged sort of handsomness around him. To him, this night was perfect. What he least expected what an interruption to his oasis.
Saregona - April 2, 2008 02:26 AM (GMT)
.:Seralyn[x]MAPLEFALL:.
.:Playing hide and seek, I forgot to tell you about it though:.
Savouring the sweetness of the dewy grass she munches, the fae half closes her lids and for a few lingering moments is lost in her relaxing solitude. There she stands, her limbs squared beneath her as she rests, until her tranquillity is suddenly broken. Her harks, unintentionally trained to pick up the softest disturbances, a symptom of her paranoid nature, catch the barely audible rhythm of approaching hoof beats. Though they are severely muffled by the softness of the terrain, to the suspicious 'ess with fine hearing, they may as well be drum beats. The mare opens her lids slowly, then freezes beneath her hanging screen and watches with blank pools as a silvery equine enters her grove. Her sights are blocked somewhat by the flora covered ropes of the willow, so she cannot make out much about her unknowing visitor. She takes a few bold steps out from beneath her botanical veil, just enough to see the other equine clearly, her flints silent on the fallen flowers that litter the terrain like snow beneath them.
Oh, he's a stag. No doubt an important one, judging from the way he holds himself... She observes with unrevealing orbs, noting his high head carriage, which appeared to be natural to him, rather than strained. Curiosity passes her when she realises that the bronc hadn't noticed her, surely even though she was hidden he would have caught her scent in the still night air? She quietly snuffs said air, and is hit with the obvious solution to that mystery, and she focuses her gaze closer, onto the fragrant little willow flowers that surrounded her, that were apparently completely masking her aroma. Feeling much more secure, she is content in retuning her sights to the stallion once again. With surprise she sees the stallion wade into the bitter depths of the still pool, and is further surprised by his lack of reaction... Surely the freezing water would knaw at his pelt, sting him as fiercely as a wasp's bite? Sure, she could enter easily without flinching; she was used to the cold, and even preferred it. But this was because of the least demented point of her past, the fact she had grown up in the icy Northern Kingdoms far from here.
One who took an investigatory look at her frame could probably draw this conclusion. She was of a different type to the equines she had observed here. They were slighter than her, all long in the legs and slim of body. Her conformation was much more pony like, being of a fairly short stature and of compact build, she was thicker in bone and heavier in muscle, possessing a toned nape topped with a broad, dished tiara, large pools and a small, delicate muzzle, with shorter but none the less slender and fine pillars ending in svelte daggers, with her dark banners long and abundant - and with this particular conformation came her stunning, pronounced curves. All this plus her butterscotch and cream pelt and her deep chocolate tresses sliced with ivory meant that she was unconventionally captivating. Of course, she didn't notice any of these things about herself, she had never even thought of them. She did think however, though she would never admit it, or even ponder upon it often, for fear of feeling like a self absorbed filly, that she rather preferred her shapely and solid composition to any other she could have been given, and took a lot of pride in the way she looked, which is in many ways astoundingly more feminine than other mare of sleeker frame.
The painted buckskin femme watches for a short while longer, simply observing the moonlit stallion beneath her, trying to remain hidden behind the waving, rope like boughs of the willow as they danced energetically in the developing chilly wind. Her distrustful and naturally analytical and cold nature forbade her from giving up her hidden position straight away, she wanted to figure this stranger out first. Her instincts tell her right away that he grieves for something, and looking at his empty pools confirms this theory. She cannot feel any pity for him, though it seemed apparent to her that she would, if she could, rather she recognises that she knew how it felt knowing that he, as a fellow in a position of power, would have to carry on and hold up the sky (so to speak) for those that look to him for hope. She assumed that he would have to suppress an assortment of his own feelings, just to keep on going for another day without letting so many others down. She could not feel for him - but she knew what it was like to have to force emotion deep inside of you and keep it prisoner there.
For doing so with terrible discipline is what made her how she is and who she is today. For so long she had refused to recognise that she even had emotion, had any feelings for anything or anyone and instead she just buried them deep inside her, imprisoned them. Her resolve was weak at first, but the more she ignored them, the less frequent her emotional 'escapes' became. In a shockingly short time she became distant, unwoven from the family fabrics of her herd, and as cold as the winter gales that tore across her old homelands. Her suppression reached a peak, and in that moment her emotions perish within her - leaving in their place little more than a sarcastic, untrusting and bitterly cold equine, who will only, if ever she was to encourage them back, be able to possess a strangled emotional capacity. She was aware of this, but her reasons for mutilating herself as such were so justified, that she knew that she was better off this way, twisted as it seems.
By now the mare had observed all she possibly could about the stallion in their current situations, and she has decided that he was no threat to her. Just a melancholy stag, seeking some time away from the judgmental eyes of the common equines, to be alone with his sorrows, without the fear of not being the beacon of hope he needs to be in front of those who look to him for it. She would feel intrusive if he hadn't been the one that had interrupted her tranquillity first. Mmm, tranquillity and calm, being alone with your thoughts, that was what the night was bliss for, for many equines.
Lost in ponderings about the wonders night held for her, the little mare is surprised when a positively arctic blast of wind whips about the grove, and she lets out a startled whinny as the thick willow tendrils that hung so placidly moments ago thrash and shower her with the snowy florals that it bore so beautifully. A last icy gale whips the tendrils so violently that they reveal the mare completely, and in the sudden still afterwards they remain pulled to the side, having tangled, revealing her completely to the no doubt stunned stallion below her.
Status: Redone...
Words: 1,184
Starring: Seralyn (apparently)
OOC: Just editted the cheese out, it didn't suit the character. Changed some references to her appearance. [.x.] Freedom - April 14, 2008 10:45 AM (GMT)
The world was a strange place. So many lives, so many stories, yet so little time to live. The planet turned on its axis no matter what; morning came and night went, and the stars and the clouds moved with it. Life went on. Those who could not keep up the pace fell behind. Yet they were not forgotten. In the eyes of the world, an individual lifetime was as fleeting as a flash of lightning. But to those who that life touched and affected, it was special. Different.
As the stallion stood there, the frigid water lapping at his sides and the pale moonlight pooling upon his pelt, he had never felt so alone. The sudden realization of his, and every other living beings utter insignificance in the wider view of things had silenced Forever Autumn, happy for once to just be a part of everything. Be just part of those million others, instead of having to stand out and lead them. "Why me?" He called out to nothing in particular, addressing the air in a way which almost sounded like he expected a reply. Although of course that was absurd. He was alone here, unless of course you counted the stars. Why me..., a more appropriate question could be 'why her?'. At the thought of 'her' a desperate flick of hope sparked within his heart, although, alas, he knew she was gone. A humourless smile twitched upon his lips as he realised that this sounded like his cue. Now was the perfect time for tears, for regrets, for wallowing in his sorrows and for berating the world for its cruelty. But Forever Autumn simply would not, no, could not do any of that. He was a king, and that was hardly inspirational behaviour for a king to show to his subjects. He was familiar with all the tales of the old world, in the times of peace. Of the young, brave, and always strikingly handsome kings of old, with their noble heritage and proud stance. How they rescued the 'damsels in distress' from the big bad wolf. How they ruled their lands flawlessly and without fault. How all problems were easily dealt with without any pain or injury. And how their legacy would live forever, in all those who came after them, until the end of time. Autumn knew not whether he was descended from that line of nobility, but even the thought of succeeding the throne of these faultless rulers sent a shiver down his spine. He was anything but perfect.
A sudden blast of wind tore through his thoughts. The stallion jerked up his head in shock; for he had been detached from reality for so long that it was almost painful to return to the 'land of the living', so to speak. Led by the wind, Autumn stumbled forward and lost his footing for a moment, his right foreleg collapsing under the sudden weight of his body. As he regained his footing a high-pitched whinny resonated throughout the air, shattering the stillness of the night. His trained ears quickly traced the source of the noise, and Autumn turned his head only to find that a mare, now, oddly, draped in willow flowers, had been standing near him for god knows how long. Upon further inspection he realised she was beautiful, almost enchantingly so, yet he did not regard that as anything important. This land seemed almost overrun with beautiful creatures; with their silken, flowing banners and utterly captivating curves that would shame any mare who was not considered conventionally beautiful. The silence between them stretched, and Autumn could only guess that she had noticed him. He supposed that, stallion as he was; it was his duty to speak first.
"Pardon me, miss. I was miles away." He spoke with a most cheery tone which did not seem to suit his previous actions. He was now in fully blown king mode, and all those regrets and worries were just going to have to wait.
status; complete
words; 669
starring; Forever Autumn
ooc; I'm so so sorry for the wait =(
Saregona - April 15, 2008 01:49 AM (GMT)
.:Seralyn[x]MAPLEFALL:.
.:I don't hate goodbyes', I love them, it's the bloody hellos' that are awkward:.
The doe’s heart thumps uncomfortably in her barrel, and she is unsure of how to react, in realisation of her premature reveal. Through hurried breaths that she tries to hide, she instantly resumes her usual mannish stance, happy to keep any trace of femininity hidden from the stallion who was now addressing her - as a little miss no less. She scoffs, an ill tempered look flashing over her blank pools that she masks within a toss of her compact tiara. Nobody had ever, in her relatively short life, addressed her as miss. Having now experienced it, she cannot say she cared for it at all. Although, figuring that as he has broken the ice, and that she should perhaps respond, she swiftly hops down the incline she had not long ago climbed to seek shelter. She stands at the edge of the pool, her own coat still damp from exploring it, and her empty pools meet the stag's own oculars.
Forgive me, sir. She begins, trying out of respect to keep any scathing tone from her voice, and her head low. I understand that the ladies around here would have their little hearts set in a silly flutter if you called them miss, but I am afraid I am nothing like the little women you are accustomed to. She says, almost too off-handedly, as if she was informing the buck about the state of the weather. She didn't say this to cause offence, of course, brash as her words might seem, it was just the facts. She knew better than to tick off the authorities. The femme pauses to swing her cran around to scratch an itch on her belly, and in muffled tones she goes on. Mah name ish Seralyn. She says slowly, between frantic nibbles, obviously not caring if he had caught her words through her mouthful of pelt. Itch subdued, she turns to face the stallion again, Seralyn Maplefall. She repeats with the addition of her last name, in a tone of much distaste. But, as I hate it, I'd much rather you call me Lynx. She finishes matter-of-factly and none too boldly, standing relaxed now with one hind leg tilted to rest on its hoof tip as she waits on his response, observing him with half lidded pools.
Status: Finished - editted
Words: 383
Starring: Seralyn, or Lynx as she prefers =P
OOC: That's cool. I like this whole end bitty idea Free =) Also, as with my last post, just tweaked it a bit... Ice isn't coming back for a little while, so, knowing that, you can decide what Autumn wants to do =) ». Freedom - April 24, 2008 09:12 PM (GMT)
.FOREVERAUTUMN.
.gonna make it all right, but not right now.
It was obvious to Autumn that the little mare was nervous; the hurried breaths which she attempted to hide from him and the pained look on her face all gave the king a strong sense of what she was feeling. Although he could not really understand the reason behind her anxiety, Autumn flashed the mare a cheery smile, yet whether this would dispel her fears; he knew not. The king bowed his head momentarily as she neared him, as was the traditional way of greeting, however Autumn was careful to keep his actions relaxed. Adhering to the strictest codes of formality, as were reserved especially for the nobility, would do nothing to dispel the already strained atmosphere between the pair.
Formality had never been Autumn's strong point. His naturally charismatic and cheery air, around other equines at least, had always dispelled an awkward atmosphere. Some equines criticized him for his good-humour and acceptance of those around him; however the king himself believed it to be an improvement on the old ways. The mores of previous times had set strict social boundaries, prohibiting the mixing of nobility and common equines, yet now times were changing, and, as Autumn considered it, everyone was equal. As the mare before him spoke, the king could not help but notice the almost derisive tone to her voice, and it provoked a smile to form upon his lips. He liked this mare; that he had already decided, for her brash outlook on life, and how she was not afraid to challenge him. Most equines that he had mixed with went out of their way to show respect; yet the attitude of this femmora was a refreshing change. Still unsure as to whether she was deadly serious or not, Autumn responded in his usual optimistic and cheerful manner.
"Well then, Lynx, how would you prefer me to address you?" he asked, his merry gaze meeting hers; noticing with a spark of surprise the lack of emotion within. They reminded him of Ice somewhat, yet recently he had caught some faint flickers of feeling within them. As his mind drifted back to Ice, the stallion turned his gaze to the beautiful scene surrounding them, breathing in deep lungfuls of the crisp, midnight air. At that moment, he was perfectly content, playing at being the king he so wanted to be.
status; finished
words; 392
starring; Forever Autumn
ooc; So when is Ice coming back exactly? Oh, and I don't really like this post. I have tons of muse, but I don't really know how to take it out of my head and write it all down right now =S Saregona - April 25, 2008 10:23 AM (GMT)
.:Seralyn[x]MAPLEFALL:.
.:And when the hellos' are done, the introductions can be a bitch too!:.
The mare thought for a moment that perhaps she hadn't made herself quite clear, and resiting the urge to raise one eyebrow, she replies.
"Well, there it is, 'Lynx'." She insists, "What better way to address someone than by their name?" She questions, slightly sardonic, though not pausing for an answer she continues, "But anything from, 'hey you' to 'you there with the great behind', will, too, prompt some degree of response." She continues matter-of-factly, in the same offhanded tones that are commonly inhabit her speech. "But I can't promise the latter will provoke anything friendly, or even civil." She adds, watching the stallion near her with a serious gaze. Sera could tell by the careful way he had chosen to ask his last question that the bronc was having some trouble determining if she was for real. Well, if he had the bravery to continue this conversation, he would soon realise she was indeed sincere.
The little mare was surprised by the stallion's willingness to converse. Seralyn often found it rather hard to associate with other equines because of her mannerisms, but this aversion others had to her behaviour was often viewed as a blessing by her. True, at times she found her solitude... inconvenient, if not frustrating, for there had been some moments in her life where she really could have used another equine. But this was more for help than company. Seralyn preferred not to think about these times, for dwelling on them made her feel vulnerable, and weak, and she didn't care for either feeling at all. Forcing herself to block these sorts of thoughts, she shakes her crown and snorts softly, as if to expel the wonderings from her mind. Her thick veil now significantly scruffier than before, she watches the stallion with a sort of blank patience, seeing if he did indeed have the courage to get to know her better.
Status: Done
Words: 317
Starring: Seralyn
OOC: She can come back when this thread wraps up, and I'll start a new one with her in one of the light lands. Perhaps she can come back tattered and bruised and looking for Autumn at Silverstream? And I don't much like my post either, it's a bit piece-meal... =P ». Freedom - April 27, 2008 02:23 PM (GMT)
.FOREVERAUTUMN.
.and they tell me to breathe easy for a while.
An amused smile twitched upon the king's lips as the little mare spoke, meeting her eyes with his own twinkling gaze. He was intrigued by this Lynx, and determined to get through her tough outer shell. Autumn was naturally drawn to the equines around him; a trait which he was unsure was helpful for a king to possess. Although he was not particularly skilled at the art of conversation, tending to lose his nerve under pressure, he was incredibly friendly and tolerant, to those of his own alliance of course. To say he was prejudiced towards those of the dark alliance would not be entirely correct, but considering that every experience the king had had of the darks involved death or violence to those he loved, it was fair to say that he had good reason to dislike them. Still slightly unsure as to whether she was joking, he spoke, again in a cheerful manner.
"Since I have not yet have the pleasure of inspecting your behind to determine whether it deserves the title 'great' or not, and 'hey you' seems rather rude, I'll settle on Lynx. Nice to meet you." With his greeting complete, Autumn stepped forward, slightly nearer the mare. It was not meant in a threatening way, merely so that he did not have to speak as loudly. The distance between them had resembled that of two enemies, forced to work together under a truce.
"I suppose now that we have determined your name, you had better know mine. I am Autumn, Forever Autumn if you wish to be incredibly formal. But the only one who has ever called me that was my dam, and I sincerely doubt you want to be like her. What brings you here?" The king had omitted his title, and his family name, for the simple reason that he didn't want Lynx to feel like she had to treat him any differently. That always seemed to happen. Yet, as he met her eyes, he supposed, if she wanted to know, she could always ask. It wasn't that difficult to notice.status; finished
words; 349
starring; Forever Autumn
ooc; Did Ice still get attacked by darks then? And does Autumn think she's dead? Saregona - April 29, 2008 01:51 AM (GMT)
.:Seralyn[x]MAPLEFALL:.
.:A whisper of soothing calm, a new feeling, I'm ready for it:.
"Ah, the courage is strong in this one." Sera thinks as the stallion did not opt to dismiss himself, but instead remained to talk with her. It seemed that, not only was he still trying to get to know her, he was also enjoying their conversation. She had never been spoken to before with proper civility and respect, and, now that she had, she found it to be most pleasing. As he responds to her, what she suddenly considered extremely rude, words, she found the way that he made light of her attitude rather amusing. She was sure that her amusement would show in her usually blank eyes, and momentarily it did, but she found herself not needing to guard such a thing around present company. For the first time in a long time, she felt safe enough to let her guard down. For the first time in her life, Sera felt herself at ease within company, and didn't even suffer the impulse to step away as he moved to close the distance between them. As he states his name, Sera nods in recognition, but she can't help but feel that something was missing. She remembers back to when she had seen the stag lope into the clearing, when she had seen his carriage and had thought him an equine of some importance. If he had omitted the truth of this on purpose, Seralyn could not know the reason, but surely she did not seem the type to treat a Lord or alpha differently to a commoner? Perhaps Autumn had thought she might all of a sudden hit the turf and grovel, and all of a sudden start flinging the 'M'lords' and 'Sirs' around. If he was a powerful equine, she imagined that he would see a lot of equines behave like that - and Sera wondered if an equine of position could ever really trust another equine to be themselves with you. Well, it would not affect her behaviour, but Sera dropped these thoughts for now, thinking that she had best respond to Autumn's question.
"It is a long, uninteresting story." She nickers, her tone as blank and emotionally uninformative as usual, "All that you need to know is that I came here from the Northern Kingdoms, that the trek took a whole cycle of the seasons, and that I stopped roaming when I found these lands." She continues, stopping to take a mouthful of the sweet, cool grass at her daggers, chewing it hastily and swallowing before going on, "So, honestly, no real reason brought me here. But now that I am here, I guess I'm hoping to find a place to call home." She finishes, though this time she had been unable to squash a sad note of desperation from her flat song. Knowing the longing that had crept out with her voice, Sera dropped her gaze to the ground and scuffed the dewy blades sourly with a fore flint. She hated the vulnerable feeling that came with such occurrences, those infrequent times when her emotions sneaked forth and betrayed her. But quickly she blanks herself again to return her empty chocolate gaze to the silvery stag before her, awaiting his response while the silence grew longer between them.
Status: Complete
Words: 542
Starring: Seralyn
OOC: Yes, yes she did, and yes, yes he does I guess =P ». Freedom - June 9, 2008 08:56 PM (GMT)
.FOREVERAUTUMN.
Autumn had spent so long trying to fit the prototype that he had almost forgotten who he really was. He was expected to be the flawless leader who always knew exactly what to do and always had a battle plan in his head. The bitter truth - although he hated to admit it, was that Autumn was most definately not the stereotypical king that he wanted to be. He used to have a tendency to lose his nerve under pressure, yet thankfully the young stallion had managed to conquer that through practice. Compared to his father, Autumn had always felt inadequate, like somehow he didn't seem to 'fit in' the way his father had always done. He had stepped up to the position of kingship with no qualms at all, and, for the most part, had led a successful and propserous kingdom.
status; unfinished
words;
starring; Forever Autumn
ooc; Sorry.. didn't have time to finish it. I'll complete it tomorrow though =)