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Post by ThatDenver on Jan 25, 2020 14:26:55 GMT -6
Please keep the following in mind!
- Posts must be a minimum of 175 words. There is no maximum – however, please be considerate to your fellow players. Posts of 500 words or less are recommended (but not enforced)
- No strict order is enforced, but there must be at least two posts between your own character's.
- No god-moding or reading characters' minds (unless your pony is a literal telepath, anyway)
- Always get consent before harming another character!
- Have fun! Even if your pony isn't. 8'D
Rewards: 5AP, 5CS and 2FVR if a minimum of 2 posts is reached. +1AP for each additional post. Admin will confirm rewards at the end of the event.
Deadline: 23rd of February 11.59PM PST ---> Extended 29th of February 11.59PM PST
Note that each character can only participate in one of the threads.
Prompt: A few days after the meeting in Osulas, you received word that Matriarch Malaika would meet with the Serorans on the outer edge of her territory. She has informed you that she will not come alone, and she isn’t expecting the Serorans to be unarmed either.
With gifts of jewelry, Seroran armor and number of live goats and sheep, you have made the long and slow trek into the very edges of the area known as God’s Landing – Matriarch Malaika’s territory. You’re a bit early, and there is not yet a sign of her, although you do notice a lone thunderbird in the distance. The Matriarch herself will surely arrive soon enough, and so you wait.
You want information, and if possible, peace.
But nothing is guaranteed, and you don’t expect the negotiations to be easy.
Dealing with Malaika and her thunderbirds: Malaika and her entourage are admin controlled NPCs. Please treat them as you would a PC (no god-moding, no harming them without permission). Malaika can understand equine speech, but only those with the familiar whisperer talent may understand her. If no PC familiar whisperer is available, assume an NPC is translating for you.
Domestic Thunderbirds are barred from the thread.
Location: Outer edge of the area known as God’s Landing; 100 miles from Alhaj, about 140 miles from Osulas
Date: December; about 10 days after the events of Birds of Prey faction thread
Time of Day: Early morning
Current Weather: Clear skies but cold after the night; a thin layer of ice on the ground.
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Post by redspaceboyy on Jan 25, 2020 15:09:41 GMT -6
 Casanova
Seroran Screamer The small filly, a passing participant in the original meeting to discuss the current gathering today, had of course been assigned to herd some of the goats. She had no knowledge of managing livestock, but her speed and quick reflexes seemed to have made her perfect for the job.
Still, she was bored. She had spent the days decorating the cattle with necklaces, assigning each one names, herding them into fancy patterns and lines and even played a few games of one-sided tag.
She carried no weapons on her, just a small shepard's staff and a hunting knife for helping cut any goats free if they got caught in anything.
Despite being kept to the back of the group, the young Screamer's eyes were quickly trained on the silhouette in the distance. She sucked in a deep breath, feeling suddenly giddy at the sight of the great Thunderbird.
"Alya," she whispered under her breath. "Please guide us to make the right decisions. Let no equine be harmed under your wings." She lowered her head at the end of her short prayer, eyes turned up to the sky. She longed for the stars to be out--she could navigate with incredible ease under the glistening light. And there was a comfort, a comfort in seeing something of her God's creation staring warmly down at her.
Casanova shook her head, exhaling a deep breath to calm her nerves. For the first time, she abandoned the goats for a moment to creep ahead, again her Screamer's instincts telling her to run forward and explore the unknown.
wc: 261 | post #1 |
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Post by sunibath on Jan 25, 2020 15:46:44 GMT -6
 Acuna had no clue how she got out alive. She had seen her end with the Thunderbird she had encountered days prior, when she stupidly decided to bolt towards it to hopefully bring it down. But nonetheless, she had survived, with regret on her mind. Maybe it was the madness of her own mind that had Acuna her off, or was it the fact that she believed that no one was proud of her. The mare's broken spirit and body made their way across the desert sands, boomerang in saddle bag and eyes low as she moved towards where she needed to head.
At least the injuries she had acquired had stopped coursing with blood, but the ache of being an absolute fool was still plaguing her. Even if Acuna wasn't there for the meeting prior and to fight off the thunderbirds with a larger group, she felt like to make it up to Serora, to Ayla Acuna needed to come along. Finally reaching the destination, Acuna tried to stand somewhere she could see but also where others wouldn't look at her in shock or have sympathy for her. Acuna knew she didn't deserve sympathy for her stupid, foolish mistake.
"I'm hoping this will be beneficial for all Serorians," Acuna spoke to herself, trying to pull her plaguing mind from something terrible to a discussion Acuna believed she needed to be involved in. The little amount of forelock that covered Acuna's eye was moved when Acuna bobbed her head. There was no chance to tie it back now, as most of her mane had been pulled out by a Thunderbird. She just hoped the one that was looming at the edge of the territory wasn't the one that had attacked her in the cliffs a few days prior. |
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Post by buffyandbramble on Jan 25, 2020 16:07:03 GMT -6
Acorro wasn't exactly thrilled about the idea of negotiating with thunderbirds. He couldn't say he didn't understand why it was being done, because he did, but that didn't mean he had to like it. He was just about alright with domestic thunderbirds, but wild ones? Not only was it instinct to be wary of them, it was in his training. Part of his job description was fighting the things off, so making peace with them? He wasn't exactly one for politics and negotiations to begin with, let alone with previous sworn enemies.
Okay, maybe sworn enemies was a slightly extreme description, but it certainly felt like that at times.
It wasn't that he didn't want peace. Peace was good, it saw fewer of his friends and family and herdmates hurt and that was always a good thing. He just didn't think it was possible. Thunderbird conflicts had been going on for generations, and whilst Acorro was hardly one for philosophical thinking he highly doubted theirs was the first generation to think about making peace. The fact that there wasn't any kind of implied how well any previous attempts had gone. He wasn't hopeful.
All that aside, he had been adamant about coming along as part of the defensive entourage. Not only was he trained for this, his blessings were useful, and on top of that he'd never forgive himself if something went wrong and he wasn't there to help. He'd promised Altan, more than once, that he'd hold his tongue, though he'd taken some offence to the mullah tracking him down before the trip and extracting the promise from him. It was as if Altan saw him as an unruly child. Still, he'd made a promise and he'd be damned if he was going to break it. Acorro didn't break promises, both he and his brother knew that. He didn't want this trip to fail, even if he thought it was already doomed to do so.
He was friendly during the trip and as relaxed as could be expected of an on-duty skirmisher, but whenever he'd been on his own his expression had always been serious, focused on the skies and the task at hand. His harness and weapons were in immaculate condition, being given careful attention every night to ensure they were gleaming and for once his coat was almost as clean, asides from the dust that was unavoidable from trekking. He wasn't usually one for fussing over appearances, but this was an important occasion and even he couldn't deny the impact of well-presented horses. He highly doubted that Malaika and her crew were going to turn up looking ragged and untidy, so he wasn't about to do the same.
God's Landing was a new place for him, or at least the top of it was. Being neither winged nor strongly devout, he'd had little interest in climbing the monolith before now. He'd had have been lying if he said he wasn't somewhat awed by the view - he wasn't used to being this high up. Unfortunately it was somewhat marred by the silhouette of the thunderbird lurking not that far off and he checked the fastenings on his weapons to ensure they were easy to reach. He hoped he wasn't going to need them, but in times like this there was no such thing as too careful.
Post #1
WC: 558
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Post by taebun on Jan 25, 2020 16:10:47 GMT -6
![]() Tumble | 17 | Windracer
His mother had told him to be careful before they parted ways - Valeera heading to the public meeting with the Sultan and he joining the entourage to try and talk peace with Sedo's native beasts. The topic of diplomacy, of discussing peace had seemed like such a brittle task as of late. Tumble would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't nervous. His hooves felt heavy as he stepped onto his windboard and sailed here to the edge of God's Landing, his faithful companion resting comfortably between his shoulders. The daunting shapes of the few thunderbirds in flight above them caused his entire body to tense. His lance, as blazen gold as the sun peeking over the horizon, was held securely in the grip of his teke as he dragged it along the sand at his side. Even with practice the weapon still felt heavy and foreign in his possession and he strongly hoped this meeting wouldn't turn to violence.
Tumble's gaze settled on the herds of livestock that he assumed must be offerings, putting his mind momentarily elsewhere until his small bird companion hopped off of his shoulders and darted in the opposite direction. With a small huff the boy followed, his bracers scuffing lightly against each other as he trotted forward. But as he lifted his head he spotted a familiar equine - the reason Bek had rushed off on his own. "Acuna? You're here!" There was surprise in his voice as he shot his bird companion a gentle glare as the roadrunner flapped it's way up to settle on the mare's back instead. It was difficult to not take notice of the heavy bandages around her neck and throughout her form but Tumble forced himself to not stare. "You look a little rough," he teased softly with a small smile, not wanting to pry as to what could've possibly happened since he had last seen her. "You holding up okay?" |
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Post by Artistic Pineapple on Jan 25, 2020 17:10:11 GMT -6
Zasha Serora Fledgling
The filly was surprisingly quiet without her companion along.
From the edge of God's Landing, she turned from the group for the umpteenth time since the sun had risen, large ears turning back the way they had come. Though she couldn't see him, her companion sat just over the horizon, hardly patient enough for her return.
This was the first time she was away from him since they had met on the riverbank over a year ago. Though she had helped Casanova name the livestock and had tried to learn herding basics, the filly seemed down. Without Rook, things just weren't the same.
Her teke found the red feather among the fan of white atop her head - a parting gift from her best friend. She turned it around thoughtfully in her teke before tucking it back in its place, remembering his words to her: Be brave but be smart. Don't do anything I wouldn't. Remember your knife. If something goes wrong, call for me and I will come. Remember your manners. Please. Be careful.
Shadows of approaching thunderbirds came into view and the filly straightened herself. She offered an excited smile to the brave members of their littly greeting party and stepped forward, prepared to greet the Great Matriarch.
WC: 231 | Post #1
Header by Queerly
Zasha is maxed on Familiar Whispering and is sad that Rook couldn't come
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Post by Maelorom on Jan 25, 2020 18:41:58 GMT -6
 = BELLONA =
"Chin-up kid, they'd kill to see you fall."
WC: 251 | Post #1Belle felt a deep sense of unease. She had been instructed to leave her thunderbirds, Fish and Chicken, behind. Why? She didn't know. It seemed a foolish move to leave behind such valuable assets, but she knew her concerns would not be heard. After all, she was an ex-Aodhian.
She had brought a longsword with her, and it's weight was a comforting sensation. Although she was here as a translator, she never stopped being warrior. And without her familiars by her side she felt an even greater need to be capable of defending herself and everyone else gathered. She glanced at the others, she recognised one or two, but the rest were strangers. One in particular she remembered, Rook's companion. She smiled warmly in greeting at the young filly, Zasha was it? Esin had told her the filly's name but it was easy to forget things when her mind was so distracted by the events about to take place. She guessed the filly would also be translating. It was a surprisingly daunting task. Belle had been using her talent for quite some time, it came naturally. But with so much pressure...
She took a deep breath and focused on her environment. She has never been to God's landing before, and it was beautiful in a strange way. Looking up her eyes settled on the distant figure of a lone thunderbird. A scout probably, she couldn't imagine the Matriarch would make an appearance without first investigating the opposing party. It was hard to know what to expect, Belle had never been part of a diplomatic situation before. But she was determined to do her new herd proud. |
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Post by Zookcan on Jan 25, 2020 21:17:41 GMT -6
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ENIAH
your scars will be remade in gold.
________________________________________________
An awful tremble in his chest almost made him reluctant to appear. Days, even weeks had been spent holed up in Alhaj's library and he had emerged like a hermit from a cave, eyes almost sunken and face gaunt. His deeply knitted eyebrows carried every trace of determination he still had in him. To Eniah, this is perhaps one of the boldest things he's ever done, besides escaping Valore's walls over year ago, and lashing out at Lady Seira a year before that. His hood was pulled over his ears to hide the nervousness in his eyes.
In the days that had followed the beginning of the Thunderbird attacks, Eniah had turned away from his studies of the Gods' War to researching the local clans and what the Serorans knew of them, in hopes of better grasping their cause. When that had done nothing, he turned to Thunderbirds who were allied with the herd for help. Unfortunately they too, offered little explanation; the years they had spent among equinekind and away from their respective clans meant that they had little word on the goings on within those. When it was finally announced that a meeting was going to be held with the matriarch Malaika, Eniah bravely chose to attend, knowing that his abilities granted him access to understanding the language of these feathered beasts.
Those around him carried weapons, but he had none. His staff would surely snap under the pressure of a thunderbird's beak, judging from the scale of the ones he had met aligned with the herd. Luckily the boy has equipped with him a more subtle weapon ; his own blessing, and a furia's skull, tucked away within the safety of his satchel.
With steady, large strides aided with the support of his wooden staff, the colt quietly appears at the meeting place, his ears folded flat.
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Word Count: 309
Note(s): Eniah has maxed Familiar Whisperer Talent,
and a maxed out Force Field Blessing and Furia if need be. |
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Post by QuibbleCur on Jan 26, 2020 1:52:17 GMT -6
A R O K H
Serora | Outcast
”IF YOU LOSE TRACK OF ME, JUST LOOK FOR THE EXPLOSIONS!” Arokh didn’t know what to truly expect as he stood there with the others at the edge of the Gods Landing the pretty land sparkled and twinkled away at the group with the sheen of ice and frost . He’d heard a good deal of these Thunderbirds during his stay and talks with Piper and Whirlwind had only further pushed his curiosity to the forefront of the kirin stallion’s mind. The walk shadowing the bulk of this merry morning band had filled him in a little more on that they needed to speak with some matriarch trying to broker peace seemed to be the main goal of all this, or at the very least getting information.
He had privately questioned just how welcome a presence he would be at so important a meeting, but like most things in his life. It felt like caution felt like it was there to be cast into the wind. This entire ‘meeting’ itself felt ripe for trouble for the Serorans in itself which made him glad he’d come.
If these creatures were half as intelligent as they were alleged to be he wouldn’t have put it passed them for agreeing to meet to be some sort of trick. They’d need every fighter they could get and though Arokh had come with no weapon at his side, or armor or even any kind of blessing at his call. He did have his natural Ignacio given strength and defenses. They were there to call his, and they were strong and more than just for show if it came to it.
Besides, he thought as his gold eyed gaze found the silhouette of the lone bird framed against the open sky. I’d rather show myself as boldly unafraid. Might make em think twice about treachery if some aren’t armed to the teeth and looking nervous. He thought even as a shiver ripped through him which have nothing to do with fear and all with the cold. He did wish he had brought something anything to keep away the icy chill.
He grit his teeth stubbornly. Hopefully this matriarch wouldn’t keep them waiting for long. He was sure a certain ash coated screamer mare wouldn’t let him live it down if he became a icicle while waiting to hear what a bloody overgrown chicken had to say.
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Post by seechem on Jan 26, 2020 7:04:20 GMT -6
N E R O
the Prophet of Serora
'writing my poems for the few that look to me, took to me, shook to me, feeling me'
... ...
Nero pulled the soft blue cloak tighter around his shoulders. The storms had died down, but the gentle flow of the fabric reminded the young Prophet of Alya's presence. It was not his old Saviour cloak, stained with sand and torn with use, this was new. A present from his boyfriend.
Madden had seen Nero to the edge of God's Landing, before the Vagabond was promptly told to clear the area. Even though the Mercenary was reluctant to leave his lover, Nero reassured him that all would be well.
He had been torn between attending the governmental meeting, and the peace negotiations, but had known that he would be more useful at the latter. After all, he held no governmental role or power, and at least at God's Landing, the site of the divine, he could aid his herdmates.
The sight of the stone structure made Nero's stomach lurch in dual natures. A memory of encountering Alya here, what felt like moons ago, and the horrors She had shown him. They met in his heart with equal intensity prompting the sand cat on his back to purr pointedly in his ear.
"I know, Poppea, things have changed." He nuzzled the cat's face as he walked across the sand banks. He could see a group already gathering, a few faces familiar from the last meeting. The sounds of bleating, and the bustle of bodies made him swallow a little nervously. This was an important meeting, and a lot was at stake.
More bodies began to accumulate, and Nero almost had to double take when he saw Zasha without Rook. He had not thought much about the fact that Thunderbird familiars would be barred from attending, but Zasha looked so small without her companion. The Prophet's mane flared to light in greeting, and he hoped she had seen him, in case she was in need of a friendly face.
His ears pricked in alarm, however, as Acuna's form came into focus. Bandages bedecked her neck, and Nero's saviour instincts compelled his legs in her direction. He wasn't the only one drawn to her, as he spied Tumble likewise making his way across to her.
"Acuna," he greeted warmly, dipping his head to her, "Greetings Tumble." A soft smile formed as he heard the last of Tumble's worried questions to Acuna, but it faded once he looked back at his young herd mate. "Are you alright?" He asked quietly, judging from her faraway look he wasn't sure that she wanted them to pry.
Trying not to smother her, Nero took up position beside Tumble, hugging his cloak tighter as his toothed horse shoes bit into the frosted-over sand. The sound of far off wing beats were hushed compared to the low chatter around him, but he could just make out a shape in the distance. He wondered when the Matriarch would arrive, and what she would have to say about the situation. His nerves doubled at the sight of a kirin, a lump forming in his throat as his stars unconsciously flared, his dark mane illuminated suddenly. Maybe this had been a bad idea.
Poppea rubbed herself against the back of his neck, and Nero consciously settled the stars into a cool glow. "It is good to see you both here," Nero commented quietly, drawing his thoughts back to the meeting and his friends, "hopefully our combined effort can bring about some form of peace." He wasn't sure who he was speaking to, but he hummed softly to himself as he watched everyone arrive and come together, "It's nice to see so many horses care to help the herd." He cast an eye in Acuna's direction, hoping the young mare was okay, and he sent a silent prayer to Alya that She would watch over his friend.
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Post by JourneyHorse on Jan 26, 2020 8:30:33 GMT -6
Torbek | Fury  | [ post #1 || word count:296] |
The skies above had cleared but the memories of the previous few week’s violence had not. The storms had boiled over Serora, each flash of lightning revealing a sky full of scenes of violence and chaos. That had been Torbek’s reality for days. Now this lull seemed almost unreal and the white Fury’s guard was up. What was the point of all the bloodshed if the Matriarch chose peace at this meeting? It didn’t make sense. He wanted answers.
But getting answers was his secondary priority this morning, the Matriarch would likely come well attended by her best warriors. Torbek had been sent to protect and minimize Seroran casualties should this meeting turn foul. Thus, he walked the perimeter of the awaiting group of equines, his hooves making soft crunches on the thin ice that covered the ground. His eyes scanned the horizon, ceaselessly alert for the first signs of the Thunderbirds. So far he had only seen a solitary one far off. Probably a scout, seeing in what forces the quines had turned up.
Torbek glanced over his shoulder at the waiting group of Serorans. He spotted too few Furys for his liking. He did recognize the fledgling Zasha, though without her massive companion it did take him a moment. He also spotted a mare with a wound on her neck that looked fairly fresh, just more evidence of the havoc the thunderbirds had wrecked recently.
A shiver ran down his flank as the cold air once more reminded him of its presence. He ruffled the feathers on his wings hoping to trap in the heat. Despite having been out in the elements for weeks he still wasn’t used to the cold and was very eager for the winter sun’s rays to become more effective.
Faster. Faster. Until the thrill of speed overcomes the fear of death. |
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Post by redspaceboyy on Jan 26, 2020 13:31:00 GMT -6
Casanova
Seroran Screamer Casanova looked behind her to the group. Perhaps it was stupidity that made her run forward, rearing up her front legs as they approached the great Thunderbird. Again she lifted her gaze to the skies, mumbling another nervous prayer before turning her head around. "Eniah! Look!" she chirped to the nearest friend of her's she could see.
She and Eniah had grown a bit closer ever since Jibriel's election. She trusted him to always be there in times of need, though his time in the library had created a bit of distance between the two.
Still she smiled toward him, then looked to Tumble, dipping her head. Then lastly to Zasha, whom she had spent the majority of the journey with. Seen her looking back, searching for her companion who protected her. Both of them had lost their parents to the war, and Casanova could sympathize with Zasha. She missed her sister, her fathers, missed Zip's company--she left him at home, worried the Thunderbirds may find him as a tasty snack.
Then Casanova looked to everyone else. "Don't be afraid," she said to them, smiling. Yes, she was nervous, but she was confident. Here, they would find answers. Here, on the edge of the God's Landing, they would be protected by Alya. She was sure of it. If things got out of hoof, she trusted in her god to keep an eye on them. "We're gonna be fine!"
wc: 257 | post #2 |
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Post by Silverfallingstar on Jan 26, 2020 15:27:52 GMT -6
 It had been a hard choice for her, deciding if she wanted to head out to gods landing or see what the sultan had to say. But in the end, as she strapped on her breastplate and shined her spear, she decided to choose her training over politics. Besides, she was there with the first group of furies that had made contact with the matriarch, all those months ago, so she might as well see the continuation of this relationship through.
She had her suspicions, as the group set out, over what could have possibly triggered such a violent reaction from the thunderbirds. She recalled the stories of her fellow furies, of the giant sand hawk that had appeared from the sear. If this creature was so big, it needed much more food than any thunderbird to sustain itself, which means the thunderbirds could have been displaced from hunting grounds and become more aggressive in defending what they had, and in gaining more ground to replace what was lost. During the trip, the fury maintained a fairly constant altitude above the group, spear at the ready in case anything, be it equine or otherwise, try to disrupt the journey.
After the group stopped and settled in, she flew up higher and did a quick sweep of the area, her vulture wings catching the updrafts keeping her aloft as she scanned the horizon. She landed back onto the ground with a soft puff of dust and sand, and stowed her spear up against her side. Ruffling her feathers to let them settle back in place, she looked over to the assembled group. Some other warriors, members of the folk, and probably one of the more important members here, the new prophet. She dipped her head respectfully in his direction before turning and marching over to Torbek, joining him in his patrol around the perimeter of the group.
"See anything, brother?" She asked, voice oddly serious for one who normally was so full of jokes.
Post #1 | Word Count: 333 |
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Post by sunibath on Jan 26, 2020 18:27:39 GMT -6
Acuna inhaled sharply, feeling the small road runner's presence on her back- but she didn't lift the bird from her back. Her usually bright colourful eyes were slightly dulled, maybe from all the emotions from the world around her. With a flick of her small forelock, she glanced to the clear sky. Acuna expected there to be clouds or at least something that represented Ayla, but nothing. It was probably the right thing, after being so stupid a few nights prior. Although, Acuna remembered the conversation she had with Essie at Ayla's new shrine. Esin was wise, especially for a Mullah at such a young age. 'Please don’t take Alya’s silence personally, it’s just not the right time. She’ll reach out when you’re ready for her.' Acuna didn't expect for Essie's words of encouragement to stick with her, but it was clear in her mind they had. For a moment, she considered praying to her- but she was too much in her own guilt to even mutter a word.
Lifting her head slightly, she looked towards Tumble and Nero, almost hesitant to look at them. Trying to make the situation lighthearted, she joked softly back at her cousin, "Of course I'm here, politics don't make sense to me- but coming on a journey for a reason is definitely worth being here." Acuna spoke truthfully, trying to lighten the load of feelings she was currently experiencing. She smiled at them, trying to hide the urge to scurry off from being ashamed of how she looked. Acuna didn't plan to look this awful. Acuna noticed the looks of both her cousin and friend, her smile fading a little bit.
"I'm holding up just fine," Acuna paused, but then confessed, "Okay, maaaaybe a bit of bruised pride but that's expected for my stupidity." If Acuna could shrug, she would've done. Acuna tried her hardest to keep eye contact on them both, but being humiliated regarding her current physical outlook, she casted her eyes on the others who were there. There were some equines she had seen in passing and others she needed to introduce herself too. But the feeling of being pushed away regarding her current appearance was a thought making her spine shiver.
"I hope Ayla is with us to be able to negotiate this situation, because I don't think the livestock and gifts will get us far." Acuna's words of ambivalence was soft, not to hillter the confidence of others but Acuna had a feeling she was right. The young mare paused for a moment to listen to Nero, wishing to have some confidence like he had. "At this rate Nero, I think we need more than just us and Ayla," Acuna added, her voice laced with concern. As silence emerged from Acuna, she looked once more to her new boomerang; the design of Ayla's constellations and wings were carved into the wood deeply. For a moment, Acuna gave a breathy but small laugh, flipping the boomerang with her teke. "At least, if the situation ends bad I can use my new boomerang." |
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Post by taebun on Jan 27, 2020 1:13:38 GMT -6
![]() Tumble | 17 | Windracer
Tumble's expression softened at her response, holding back his desire to soften the blame in her words. But he would save his questions for another time, and a better place. "Politics don't make much sense to me either." He mused, chuckling as he shifted his legs, his long ears twitching at the sharp crunch of the frosted sand underfoot. "But I hope you're right, Acuna." He added, his voice falling quiet and his small smile faltering for only a moment. "I hope this meeting is worth it."
The soft crunching of another equine's footsteps turned the windracer's head and he smiled almost immediately, brightening back up again when he recognized Nero's approaching them. It was hard to forget Serora's prophet who had the very stars follow his every move in the dark waves of his hair like the clear night sky. "Nero!" Tumble addressed him with familiarity. "I'm really glad to see you here with us." The boy's relief was clear in his voice, if not in the relaxed slump of his shoulders. As the older horse voice his thoughts he couldn't help but agree, nodding along as his gaze was drawn ahead of them where other Seroran's had begun to gather. "Peace is always the better option," he murmured as he flexed his grip on the lance he had standing upright by his side, it's base nestled in the cold sand. "I'm not looking forward to putting this to use just yet."
"I'll be right by your side if anything does happen," he smiled back in Acuna's direction, at the same time gesturing for his companion to return to his company, and the bird obediently flapped it's wings and settled back between his shoulders. "But Alya is always watching, Acuna. I wouldn't worry too much, right Nero?" Tumble took a deep breath, exhaling his worries in a puff of warmth. "She wouldn't let anything happen." |
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Post by JourneyHorse on Jan 27, 2020 20:55:36 GMT -6
Torbek | Fury | [ post #2 || word count:259] |
The conversations among the gathered equines were low and created a soft mumbling of background noise. A feeling of uneasy anticipation and expectation hung in the chill air. Torbek was surprised to realize that while he was alert he was hardly as anxious about this meeting as he would have been a year ago. No, too much had happened in that amount of time. For a moment his mind conjured up the image of the Sand Hawk he’d encountered with several others. He shivered again, though this time it was the memory of the monster’s bloodthirsty cry as it descended upon them. In comparison, a flock of angry thunderbirds was far less intimidating. Not something to be taken lightly but still it was manageable and familiar.
A rustle of wings and the soft sounds of another’s approach. The white Fury smiled at the familiar voice. “Creosote.” He said by way of greeting along with a dip of his head as he turned to her. It was good to see his adoptive sister again, Torbek felt a rush of relief to see she appeared unhurt from the many recent skirmishes that had taken place with the thunderbirds. Then his attention returned to the horizon, “nothing yet, just a scout. I’m beginning to think the Matriarch is keeping us waiting on purpose.”
His rather broody expression faded into a smile, “I’m glad you are here.” It wasn’t just that he had another Fury’s expertise to depend on should things head south, but he also had someone he trusted and cared about.
Faster. Faster. Until the thrill of speed overcomes the fear of death. |
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Post by ThatDenver on Feb 1, 2020 13:58:05 GMT -6
GREAT MATRIARCH MALAIKA
Suddenly, there’s a crack of thunder.
Thunder in a clear sky.
And that is how you know that the matriarch has arrived.
The sound of heavy wings fills the air, even more so than the single crack of thunder. There are at least twenty thunderbirds approaching as an organized flight, great wings beating with a regular, calm pace.
In the middle of the group is a thunderbird who far dwarfs all others. There is no doubt that this enormous creature must be the matriarch.
The flock breaks in two, with most of the thunderbirds flying up towards the mesas, and sitting down on various peaks and edges to peer down at the meeting. The matriarch and two others land in your midst, giving you an opportunity to observe the great thunderbird from up close.
The Great Matriarch is immense. Many of you have seen Rook, and would consider him a quite sizeable bird – but next to the Matriarch, even Rook would look small. Her wingspan is fifty feet, and she is easily the largest thunderbird you have ever seen. Her feather coat is the typical earthy red, with a head in a lighter, creamy orange color. Her crest is large, a greyish blue striped with the same earthy red as her body. All in all, she is an impressive creature, even if signs of age are beginning to creep into her appearance.
Which is why it is so striking to see large, slightly puffed wounds across her chest. Left by the talons of something that must rival her in size, the wound is fresh and not yet healing.
“This time you do not arrive unannounced. That is good”, the Matriarch says in that strange language of the Thunderbirds: “It is always better to meet beak to beak.”
She looks over the crowd, her yellow eyes sharp and observant. They land on Creosote, and she nods at her, ever so slightly, acknowledging their previous meeting.
“You have come to speak. Speak”, the Matriarch then says.
Word count: 334
Post #1
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Post by Zookcan on Feb 1, 2020 16:10:12 GMT -6
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ENIAH
your scars will be remade in gold.
________________________________________________
The bags under his eyes to briefly show, blue orbs briefly peering out from under the shadow of his hood in acknowledgement to Casanova. There are others here; among them, his best friend Tumbleweed, his teacher Nero, to name a few. His heart sinks when he notices them; in spite of Casanova's attempts to reassure him, Eniah knows how dangerous this could turn out. The arrival of furies reminds him that. They would need to be careful, for if the matriarch's intentions weren't for peace, one could easily end up in a thunderbird's beak.
The rumble of thunder over their heads quakes him, and he hears Ingeras growl low from his hiding place. "She's here," Eniah remarks, as his eyes reach skyward. The thunderbirds arrive in great numbers, dwarfing him and their party. There are a dozen, no, nearly two dozen of them in the sky, and among them, one stands out. She is the largest in the flock, no doubt the matriarch. Eniah resists the urge to reach for his staff, but his anxiety is already beginning to fester.
'Dammit,' he thinks to himself 'We couldn't have brought a larger party?'
As they land, however, Eniah notices the ruffled, bloodied feathers around a fresh wound on her body, left behind by what must have been large talons. Beneath the hood of his cloak, the colt's eyes widen, shocked by the sight. What ... happened to her? He ponders to himself quietly for a few moments. It seems perhaps, it is not only his race suffering the consequences of these attacks.
With a deep breath, the ruddy foal takes few steps forward, and dips his head in respect, though his eyes never take themselves away from the mighty creatures. He must be careful not to ire them; so he will only play his part as a translator, and save his own thoughts to himself.
He clears his throat and begins to translate, doing his best to project his voice without sounding nervous. Over a year ago today, he would have did his best NOT to speak up, for fear of punishment from his superiors. "You have come to speak. Speak." As he finishes his translation, he turns his head briefly to his fellow equines, and nods his head.
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Word Count: 377
Note: Eniah translated all of Malaika's words, I just wrote the last line is all X'D |
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Post by Artistic Pineapple on Feb 2, 2020 22:18:43 GMT -6
Zasha Serora Fledgling
Zasha remains thoughtfully silent right up until the distant crash of thunder rips through the clear morning air.
The filly is already near the front of the gathered band, but she steps a few more paces forward as the large flock approaches, starry-eyed in wonder. She spots the matriarch almost immediately and the majesty of Malaika nearly steals the breath from the filly's lungs.
Her eyes catch the majority of the flock landing among the mesas before admiring the Great Matriarch when the elder thunderbird lands in their midst with a storm of rising sand. Zasha doesn't flinch, nor does she step back. Instead, the filly dips her head as a sign of respect before rising her green eyes to the thunderbird's aged face.
As her eyes travel upward, they land across wounds to the matriarch's beautiful hide. It is clear that they are fresh; aggressively swollen skin and the shine of scabbing blood are evident from how close the filly stands. Zasha's eyes narrow and a pang of hurt echos through her small frame as memories of Rook's injuries rise in her mind. What could have hurt her, the Great Matriarch Malaika? The size of the claw marks to cause such deep slashes would have either come from a very large thunderbird or something else entirely...
Malaika's voice is booming and powerful, demanding respect without question and the filly's eyes jump from studying her injuries to the matriarch's face as soon as she begins to speak. The greatest leader of the thunderbirds has her position for a reason, Zasha considers as she dips her head respectfully again. The gesture happens on instinct and the child doesn't stop herself, though she does notice suddenly that Rook dips his head the same way whenever she speaks up.
She glances to the other translators present before Eniah speaks. As he translates, she watches Malaika patiently with wings tucked loosely to her sides. Her skin itches with the questions she wants to ask the matriarch herself, but she understands that this is not the time. At least, not yet.
It seems as though Malaika is pleased with their approach and is also willing to speak, so Zasha does.
"Great Matriarch," her voice is confident, as if she is talking to a much larger Rook. "We are grateful that you have met with us this morning. Please accept our gifts. We've come with jewelry and goats and sheep for you."
WC: 428 | Post #2
Header by Queerly
Zasha is too excited and will absolutely NOT wait for a higher-ranking herd member to say something first, oops.
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Post by seechem on Feb 3, 2020 10:34:22 GMT -6
N E R O
the Prophet of Serora
'writing my poems for the few that look to me, took to me, shook to me, feeling me'
......
More and more horses were gathering and beginning to fall into cautious conversation with each other. Casanova's words of assurance did little to settle Nero's stomach as he smiled back at Tumble and Acuna.
"Well I am glad you decided to come. It is important to stay up to date." He was quiet as he spoke, as though the words were a mere excuse to study Acuna's face and mood. She was quick to break eye contact, and Nero could sense, not only from her own admittance of stupidity, that she was embarrassed by both her appearance and what had caused it. Nonetheless the Prophet's sympathies were un-swayed, and he maintained a careful eye on her.
Tumble's joyful greeting made Nero's heart sing, and the colt's declaration of the superiority of peace made him smile. "Tumble is right, Acuna," Nero said gently, "Alya would not forsake Her people in this, she is watching over us all as we wait to speak to some of the children of Her sky." He looked back at Tumble. "It is very mature of you to remain so calm and grounded, Tumble. The Wind Mother would be proud of your bravery." And he meant it.
The crack of thunder was utterly unexpected, and Nero practically shot backwards, only able to steady himself with the visual ahead of him. The crash of wings above was almost as loud as the thunder, and it was immediately clear who the Matriarch was. She was stupendously great, her height far surpassing Rook's. Nero's body began to stiffen with panic, especially as the flock that accompanied her began to settle on the stone formations around them. The Matriarch reared her cream head and opened her beak. The clicks and caws that came from her were unintelligible to the Prophet's ear. While he waited for her words to be known, he took in her form. She was huge, almost beyond comprehension, and thoroughly littered with scars. Great gashes covered her chest, evidently from something as immense as she was. Red was still seeping from them, and Nero's trained eyes could not look away from the wounds.
Eniah supplied the translation, and Nero listened attentively as the youngster finished it. The roan could not break his gaze from the bird, and dipped his head to her carefully in respect, acknowledging her words. He was surprised to hear Zasha's voice, confident and sure, respond. She offered the gifts, something Nero had not even considered since her arrival, and waited. The Matriarch wanted to know what they had to say. She seemed to be a direct leader, according to the words Eniah had supplied, and did not present as one who enjoyed frivolities in discussion. The Prophet looked to his friends nervously. The Thunderbird Matriarch was clearly suffering from some foe, perhaps even the same enemy as them. Nero was no military leader, but he knew that they needed peace, but steeled himself. He would wait to see what the Matriarch thought of their offerings, and in that time he began to arrange his own words carefully in his mind.
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Post by taebun on Feb 4, 2020 0:40:06 GMT -6
![]() Tumble | 17 | Windracer
The boy shifts his weight once again, a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of his lips at the Prophet's kind praise. "Thanks, Nero." The Wind Mother would be proud of your bravery. Those words settled in his heart and constricted his chest as he glanced up at the sky. "I have nothing to fear when I have her guidance and my family." Tumble's voice is unusually soft, almost quiet.
Nothing to fear.
Tumble hears the crack of thunder rip through the peaceful ambiance and almost immediately he freezes, catching sight of Nero nearly leaping backwards at the shattering sound which caused him to whip his head around towards the sky. His long ears press flat against his head of blond hair and his eyes, wide in both fear and awe, find Matriarch Malaika. He couldn't say he was daunted by the thunderbirds themselves. He had close encounters both in the past and present - one being the very reason for the scars his body now bares as a reminder. But the Matriarch is not just some thunderbird.
He leans forward when he sees the Matriarch speak, hearing only sound until words are spoken back to them and finally he understands. Tumble takes a deep breath and hesitates only a moment as he hooks his lance at his side, finally releasing it from the grip of his teke that he had held on to so securely since he had arrived. He wasn't interested in getting within reaching distance of their beaks, nor leaving both Nero and Acuna's sides, but he took a few steps forward in order to get a better look. When his eyes find the wounds across the Matriarch's chest, a deep rooted fear sinks in his stomach and Tumble's mind flashes back to earlier in the year to Alhaj and the massive skeleton that hung in that library. A shiver runs down his spine and his small bird companion senses his unease but coos gently to try and comfort him.
Although Tumble couldn't find words the words to say in response, his attention goes to the young, chipper voice of Zasha. For a moment his face relaxes and his eyes widen at the young filly's lack of fear in stepping right up to Malaika herself, let alone the two thunderbirds also at her sides. "Brave kid." He murmurs under his breath as his gaze travels back up to the larger thunderbird. His heart pounds in his chest as he waits for her response to their offer. |
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Post by sunibath on Feb 5, 2020 19:09:00 GMT -6
The eruption of the thunder crack made Acuna stand frozen in thought; remembering the roaring thunder and heavy, coarse rain hitting her coat as she was scaling the canyons as the floodwaters rose below her. The mud sticking to her coat as she tried to escape what she believed would be her tomb. Acuna couldn't think about that now, especially when she knew that around a corner was a Thunderbird, a prideful one at that. Shaking her head of the thought of her stupidity, Acuna watched the Thunderbirds fly in but the one who stood out to her was bigger than the rest. It was what she assumed to be the Matriarch.
The mix of fear and wonder tried to fight for dominance in Acuna's chest, but the result came out to be nothing but outward confidence. If there was one way to prove herself, this was the way; To enable peace between equine and bird, this was the way. With her ears folded back, Acuna followed suit in bowing her head in a sign of respect even if her golden eyes were staring deeply at the Matriarch. Lifting her head back up, she noticed the deep laceration against her chest; wondering quietly what creature attacked them. For a brief second, Acuna wondered if there was something bigger than her out there waiting to introduce itself to Serorians. The mare would not let her body shiver at the thought of that, it wasn't the time or place. As Acuna continued to look at the countless wounds that the Matriarch had, it made the mess under the bandage itch.
As Acuna went to open her mouth to speak, she heard the young fledgeling Zasha speak; her head turning towards the young filly. In a way, it made her smile seeing that confidence radiate off Zasha."Good on you, kid." Acuna whispered to herself as the young mare stepped forward pushing down the fears that were trying to ruin the outward confidence she was trying to display. With a limp, she stood in front of Nero and Tumble, opening her mouth to speak. It took a few moments to formulate an idea or at least words to speak which (hopefully) wouldn't offend the Matriarch. If there was one thing Acuna didn't want to be was Thunderbird food, especially when she almost was a main meal.
"I may be a humble member of the Folk and one of many Ayla's wingless children, but we are here to respect what you ask of us. We simply ask for peace, as many of us have lost our homes and for some, family in the last couple of days." Acuna paused for a moment, considering whether or not her words were a fantastic substitute for someone higher ranking than her; like Nero. Taking a moment, she tried to stand tall to show there was no fear even if fear was swelling in her gut.
"We have come to grace your presence with questions and for information to understand what caused your people to attack us." Acuna paused again, hesitant to continue her speech. The mare didn't want others to know so quickly what happened to her nights prior, but if it were to further the discussions of why they were here, she needed to show it.
Slowly using her teke, Acuna unwrapped the bandage around her neck, carefully rolling it into a ball. The removal of the bandage was freeing, but what was hiding underneath was shocking; at least to her anyway. Deep wounds, missing skin and a massive chunk of bare skin where her mane would once sit. Acuna couldn't bare to look towards any equine who did or didn't know her, she knew she wouldn't be able to take the look on their faces. "I'd like to understand why I almost lost my own life to one of your people."
Word Count: 650
Post: #3
Note: Acuna's trying her hardest to stay strong but is happy everyone is here.
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Post by ThatDenver on Feb 6, 2020 7:38:24 GMT -6
GREAT MATRIARCH MALAIKA
The Matriarch’s eyes travel over each member of your group in turn – that is, until someone speaks other than to translate. Her eyes land on the speaker, a tiny little pegasus with wings and legs that look a size or two too big for her body.
She tilts her immense head slightly, considering.
Then, she makes a low, rumbling, vaguely amused sound that even the non-familiar whisperers recognize as a soft laugh.
”You must be Rook’s”, she says, and then turns her eyes to observe the gifts mentioned. The two birds who landed with her also look at the goods, clacking their beaks with approval at the gifts.
”This gesture is welcome to us”, the Matriarch adds in her plain way of speech.
You notice that she seems to be eyeing the adults of the group with slight amusement in her eyes, but her attention quickly returns to just a single person as Acuna speaks. The Matriarch tilts her head, and her yellow eyes seem to grow sharper yet.
Much less amused.
”Is this why you come? To accuse me?” Malaika asks, flaring her crest.
”You horses use pretty words to hide that you do not think us equal”, she adds, throwing her head slightly to accent a particularly agitated hiss. She stomps down with her large, clawed wing arm in a gesture that reminds you of an angry horse beating their hoof at the ground. Then, she seems to restrain herself and goes on, although it’s clear from her expression that she is, indeed, angry: ”When the fire horses strike at my flock, you tell me it is not your fault. That those are different horses than you.”
She looks sharply at the group.
”But another thunderbird attacks you, you blame my clan for it. As if we are all the same”, Malaika says, scorned, before adding: ”My clan have kept their peace.”
Word count: 314
Post #2
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Post by QuibbleCur on Feb 6, 2020 12:17:07 GMT -6
A R O K H
Serora | Outcast
”IF YOU LOSE TRACK OF ME, JUST LOOK FOR THE EXPLOSIONS!” It wasn't his place to speak. He'd know that from the second he'd joined this party of peace These weren't his people. Not truly. He just happened to live on their land at their kindness and tolerance. If he spoke and messed things up for them...well the kirin doubted that life would be pleasant (even if he was fairly certain that at some point their Sultan or some other leaders would want some new highly fashionable scale saddlebags and his screamer acquaintances would beat down his door to make sword belts out of him.
Even with these thoughts in mind though. His thoughts raced as he listened to all and intently to the translations of the Thunderbird language. looking at Malaika Arokh couldn't help but think of the giant birds as seeming on a similar level to the mighty dragons of his time though far less majestic in his not so unbias opinion. The way the Matriarch held herself only gave the impression of strength and kingly bearing weight in his head. strong contrast again the idea of lightning commanding but stupid overgrown chickens he'd assumed previously.
As she hissed and her disdain at the accusations that her clan was under suspicion of was translated. It got his mind rolling over things.
"I see. So you do not command all thunderbirds?" Arokh asked stepping forward and dipping his head to the massive thunderbird leader. He'd seen others do that so he assumed this to be something polite and hoping his antlers wouldn't make it look like a threat, of bearing his natural weapons. so much for not speaking.
"As others said Serorans' have been attacked by birds. We didn't come, or mean, to accuse you specifically Matriarch. We came to ask for answers and bring tributes. Especially since one question was if the attacks were for an offence we caused and needed to make right. " He told her looking up at the great bird's eyes "You said those responsible aren't your people, might you have some idea of who is attacking us and taking lives? Maybe even why?" Arokh tried to keep his voice even and polite, even with his directness. and he stood proud and fearless before her.
His gold eyes though shifted down momentarily to the injuries Malaika bore. Puffy, fresh and still painful looking as they were. He couldn't help but think that, if the Thunderbird was as honest as she was proud, the Matriarch may well have met their true foe already. before his gaze returned to her face.
It was also then that he realized he was using 'we' without thinking about it. Counting himself among them. Well... shit
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Post by Artistic Pineapple on Feb 6, 2020 12:17:46 GMT -6
Zasha Serora Fledgling
As the matriarch rumbles a thunderbird-style chuckle, Zasha's head feathers rise and a grin spreads across her face. "I am Rook's!" she chirps excitedly with shining eyes, "Great Matriarch, I am called Zasha. It is such an honor to meet you."
Malaika speaks again and the filly translates, turning her back to the giant thunderbird and her companions to address the serorians with joy pained clearly across her features. "She is happy with the gifts!"
But the optimism in the air drops like a rock as the matriarch's temper flares at Acuna's accusation. Zasha is about to remind the dun mare that not all thunderbirds are the great matriarch's "people", but Malaika responds first.
The filly opens her wings as the matriarch's anger boils over behind her, enthusiasm turning to embarrassment. The great thunderbird clan leader is now clearly upset and the filly cannot help but feel slightly responsible. If only she had spoken up to Acuna first. Or maybe if she was a better translator and wasn't so caught up in her own admiration...
Zasha turns her head to watch the matriarch rage, eyes full of apology but not fear. Her back is still mostly turned to the trio of giant predators and she keeps her wings opened defensively, hoping the gesture will keep her fellow serorians back. Her eyes dart from Malaika to her herdmates, gauging expressions carefully.
Rook would say that one temper is all that needs to rise here, Zasha muses to herself. The filly is familiar with thunderbird tempers. Rook isn't much different than the matriarch when upset.
When Malaika finishes speaking, the filly pipes up. Zasha folds her wings back against her body and meets the matriarch's eyes for a moment before addressing the group.
"She doesn't think that we see her as equal to us. Great Matriarch Malaika is frustrated that we would accuse her flock of being violent. She says that her clan has kept their peace," When she has finished translating, the filly turns back to the thunderbird clan leader and folds her wings. "I apologize for the words of my sister, she doesn't know what she has spoken of and did not mean any offence. Your clan is not like others and all thunderbirds are different. We have not come to accuse you. We seek peace, too."
WC: 415 | Post #3
Header by Queerly
tldr; Zasha is trying her best to keep the peace but when push comes to shove will display a tendency to side with the Thunderbirds.
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Post by taebun on Feb 6, 2020 21:48:43 GMT -6
![]() Tumble | 17 | Windracer
The question posed by his cousin rose the hairs along his back. Tumble spared Acuna a quick glance before the massive thunderbird's reaction to her words was less than pleasant. Instinctively he moved to sidestep in front of her, ears pressing lightly against his head as he looked up to face Matriarch Malaika. Despite his unease, Zasha's translations helped to settle his nerves, and so finally the young windracer found his courage to step closer, a few cautious steps forward, before he bowed his head in respect. With all of his heart and everything in him, he wanted this meeting to go right. His knowledge of Seroran wildlife was more vast than your average equine, he understood their unpredictably. But these thunderbirds also called this desert home. Serorans might not have lived alongside them peacefully until just recently, but they were still creatures worthy of respect.
"Great Matriarch, we've come here only for peace," Tumble echoes Zasha's reassuring words as he continues, letting his thoughts run free. "Zasha's seemed to put our intentions into better words than we older ones can." He mused, a small yet soft smile on his muzzle as he raised his head, trying his best to speak firmly and with confidence. "We all call Sedo home. You have kept the truce before, and that gives us every reason to believe your words now. Your clan isn't at fault for those attacks."
Tumble's gaze then drops to the wound so clearly evident on the Matriarch's chest and his expression becomes troubled. He falls silent once again, heavily weighing the questions in his head before he dared to speak them aloud. "With all due respect, Great Matriach," he takes a deep breath, his eyes looking from Zasha's small form then to the large thunderbird herself. "I'm afraid there might be something else that we should be more worried about, more than just hostile clans."
"What creature has the courage to challenge you?" |
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Post by Zookcan on Feb 7, 2020 1:24:52 GMT -6
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ENIAH
your scars will be remade in gold.
________________________________________________
Up until this point, Eniah had been silent. As a product of his training he was usually not the first to speak up in most matters, if at all. Rather than speak his own thoughts he allowed the locals around him to share their thoughts. Even with proper research, the colt did not grow up with these beasts. They had been nothing but legend in the herd he had grown up in, hence he didn't believe he had any right to make his opinions known.
He did, however, stick close to Zasha. The young filly radiated a confidence unlike anyone else in their group. Not only that but she seemed particularly knowledgeable of the Thunderbirds, albeit a little too busy admiring them to help maintain peace between the two sides. Eniah's ears stung with Acuna's words.
He had turned to face the dun just as she unwrapped the horrible wounds on her neck, leaving him to pall just briefly. The sight struck like an old thorn he didn't realize was still stuck in his side. She was either very brave, or reckless to show her scars and boldly approach the thunderbirds about them. The ruddy colt considers his own old wounds -- the marks that sliced up his beautiful coat, his face, his ear ... the seared mark of a dragon burned into his very flesh. Unlike them, Eniah hid them from sight. He was ashamed, he was ugly -- and he never had the boldness to declare who was responsible.
The child must remind himself; the Serorans were free. They never were exposed to corrupt power and the blindness of the Aodhians that he had been. Unlike him, they grew up with the right to speak against the abuse of power. Acuna was justifiably wary of the beasts as well -- one had almost taken her life. He knows he would be the same way in the presence of his former masters.
Unfortunately however, that does not stop the Matriarch from becoming angry, and Eniah feels his body become washed with heat in a heartbeat. He keeps his own emotions under control, but he cannot help but feel more nervous while others try to placate Malaika. As he translates their conversation, he tries to keep his voice mellow, but he figures from the matriarch's tone alone that everyone could tell she was upset.
Enough of this, he hisses in thought. Having worked around animals his entire life, Ingeras and Sol his housemates more than familiars, the boy knows from both his own research and from experience that regardless of the gaps in language and culture, the Thunderbirds are still people. Like he, an Aodhian slave, who did not grow up among these horses, whose very herd declared war on their land, they are different but the same. He fires a small glare back at the group of horses behind him, and then closes his eyes. Then he swallows, and clears his throat.
"Great Matriarch," Eniah requests in their language. "I am not Seroran. I do not know the desert like you do. However in my studies of Sedo's history, I have read that your clan as well as others have lived in relative peace with the Serorans. The skies, you rule, and the desert, the clans and the herd shares. Therefore we are both at risk at its forces."
His eyes dart up to Malaika's wounds, and he tilts his head slightly. Then he bows again, this time, down on one leg, the same way as he would address his superiors. "Great Matriarch, Serora does not know how or why this is happening. We have come to you today in hopes that you might be able to offer any insight. There is something more to this, I believe." He then stands up, and continues to address Malaika. "Something that is affecting both my herd, and your clan."
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Word Count: 644
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Post by AmaranthineRain on Feb 10, 2020 9:45:12 GMT -6
![]() ![]()  KARANILASeroran Windracer
This meeting many not be as formally political as the one Sultan Jibriel was hosting, but they needed this encounter with the massive, awe-inspiring Matriarch Malaika to go well. The new emergence of the rivers and lakes were welcome after the long drought they had been experiencing, but what if there were new dangers out there to balance the boon of water? What if the thing that had caused the recent obvious injuries to the matriarch had been something worse than the mysterious new sandhawks? She had thought to bring it up herself, but both Tumble and Eniah had beat her to breaching the subject.
Karanila shook out her mane to chase away the troublesome thoughts. She looked around, very aware that she was not, in fact, an experienced negotiator. She did, however, know and love the land and animals of Serora and had been hoping to lend her knowledge as a naturalist should the need arise. It seemed that they would have to smooth over the ruffled thunderbirds first.
She could not fault Acuna for asking after her attack. Acuna was her friend, one who Karanila loved sharing stories of breakneck-paced adventures with, and seeing her so wounded struck Karanila.
Luckily the gifts and little Zasha's enthusiasm had impressed Matriarch Malaika. Perhaps there was a way to draw that point forward again to ease the unintended insults. Though Karanila only knew one language she understood that tone and language barrier were enemies.
"Please," Karanila implored in a whisper, "Alya let me be of use to our Serora. Please let this lead to a symbiotic alliance."
Karanila's Thread Stats
[Post: 1 | Post WC: 300 | Thread WC: 300] |
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Post by seechem on Feb 11, 2020 4:33:36 GMT -6
N E R O
the Prophet of Serora
'writing my poems for the few that look to me, took to me, shook to me, feeling me'
......
Zasha's excitement was palpable, and the young Prophet smiled to himself, mane glowing warmly at the pride she took in being so close to the Thunderbirds. It was good that at least one of them was not intimidated by the Matriarch.
At first, Acuna stepping in front of him and Tumble felt relieving, if slightly troubling considering her condition. But when she removed her bandages Nero's thoughts stopped racing. The sight of Acuna's scars deep, painful looking wounds and that bare neck. Every instinct in his gut insisted he help her, but he could do nothing while she spoke. He would not undermine his friend's brave display. Foolish, perhaps, but certainly a brave thing to do in front of one of the largest Thunderbirds any of them had ever seen.
The clack of the Matriarch's beak and the rearing of her head was enough to tell Nero she was displeased with Acuna's accusation, and this was confirmed as Zasha translated. Both Zasha, and suddenly Tumble, expressed their wish for peace, and Nero had to shake himself awake from the sight of Acuna's wounds. While they spoke he carefully lifted up the bandages and, using his blessing, shook the sand from them. He lay the bandage over her neck loosely, "I don't think it's wise to leave them uncovered," he said softly, starting to carefully wrap them, "I can't have you catch an infection." He smiled kindly, but nervously. He felt her pain, truly, but the outburst from the Matriarch worried him.
But then Eniah said the unthinkable. That he was not Seroran. In that breath he disowned them all, and Nero's head shot up with ears alert. But the child then called the herd his own, and the worries in his chest began to fade, but not all together subside. This was a dangerous game he was playing, and Nero realised he needed to step in, being the most senior in rank, and among the oldest of those there.
"Matriarch," Nero said finally, stepping forward a little so that he was ahead of Acuna, "The requests for peace are genuine, though I see now that your clan is not at fault. I fear we may have a common enemy. If you would indulge us, could you tell us what has wounded you so? For if it is another clan they may be the ones responsible for the attacks on my herdmates." Carefully Nero looked up to her, the stars in his mane and tail flickering and dancing in the wind, "We seek only peace with the Thunderbirds and hope you may know why some have chosen to attack us." With that he fell silent, fighting the rigid fear creeping up along his spine. If Zasha could be brave, he could be too. Especially as this peace was necessary for their survival.
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Post by ThatDenver on Feb 11, 2020 16:34:06 GMT -6
GREAT MATRIARCH MALAIKA
The Matriarch’s eyes land, unfriendly, upon the kirin. They regard the creature curiously – still a rare sight to the Thunderbirds – and she is about to answer when the little one, Rook’s child, does it for her, and the great bird settles once more to simply listen. The way the Matriarch’s head moves makes it clear she is intently listening, picking up words and expressions in a manner that is telling not only of her mastery over the equine language, but also that this is, indeed, a learned skill. When several voices threaten to pipe up at once, it’s clear she must focus harder to understand each one.
When everyone is done talking, she speaks again, now calmer, appeased by the apologies: ”You wish to ask if my wound was made by the Hunters?”
The name she uses for them is different, but you know she must be speaking of the same creature, the Sandhawk.
”It was not. No, this is my daughter’s doing”, she says, looking at her own wound. Expressions on the faces of Thunderbirds are hard to read, but she seems saddened as she goes on: ”But it is the fault of the Hunters. Yes.”
She looks at the gathered Serorans, and her speech is a bit slower, more thoughtful as she goes on: ”Like you, we hold many beliefs. My Clan believes that the God of Wings who made us wants us to live our own lives. But others think differently – such as my daughter, and the ones who left with her. Some… Many think that the Hunters have returned to punish us for forgetting our purpose. To punish me.”
She makes a sound that sounds extremely familiar to your ears: a deep sigh.
”Unity does not come easily to our kind. The Hunters have shaken the balance of power among our Clans. The God of Wings does not speak to us as She does to you, but we can feel her. Feel Her anger – She does not hide it from us as She does from you”, the Matriarch explains, and closes her eyes for a moment: ”You understand why clans who follow this belief, are beyond reasoning or peace, yes?”
Word count: 364
Post #3
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