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Post by seechem on Dec 1, 2017 16:58:37 GMT -6
Nation of Sand
Nero & Indus
Nero and Indus meet in the city, a Saviour and a Skirmisher. What could possibly go wrong?
Time of Day: Mid morning, early afternoon
Weather: Warm, Alya's winds still blow strongly
Location: Osulas
Timeline: After Chapter 4
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Post by seechem on Dec 1, 2017 19:08:46 GMT -6
N E R O
a Saviour of Serora
'writing my poems for the few that look to me, took to me, shook to me, feeling me'
... ...
The sun was less baking this afternoon, Nero's bald face burned less than before. The city had been humming with horses since Baram had stepped in as Sultan, many changes were afoot and Nero wanted to stay on top of them all. With these high winds herbs were being scattered, and some were more difficult to find, which only made trips into the city more necessary. The roan weaved his way through a crowd in the market, once again missing his supernatural speed bitterly, however, casting that from his thoughts, he embarked up the steps of the city's canyon, passing other busy horses. Madden had gone off that day, none too eager to leave Nero to wander by himself, allowing Nero a chance to catch up on some of his patients and rounds as well as pick up a new provision of medical supplies.
Despite the warmth of the sun, it was difficult to ignore the cold gasp of air that shot down his shoulders every few moments, a constant reminder of Alya's unrest. While he was out, Nero was surprised to see a vender of stationary, books and pens. It was difficult, during this period of war, to find anything as simple as a journal or new quill. His amber eyes scanned the leather bound books, and finally his copper eyes rested on a battered brown one with a golden clasp. With a fascination that, had he been in the company of Madden, he would normally hide, Nero gazed longingly at the tome. Oh how he had missed focusing on the trivial aspects to Seroran life; ignoring war, ignoring the gods. Just focusing on the little needs of the here and now. Thinking about the war just made him shiver all over. Why war? Why now? Of course they had to protect themselves, as he had argued to Baram, but warfare meant bloodshed, and that meant more wounds and death. Despite his entire livelihood riding on how many horses got hurt, Nero had joined the profession to prevent injury, not encourage it.
He made a low growl under his throat as he retreated from the store, his mood soured by his own thoughts. "Perfect, just perfect!" His voice rumbled a little, once more shimmying through the crowds of horses to try and reach the city centre. The stallion knew that the sooner he called in on all of his house-bound patients the sooner he could return home for a much needed rest. His body felt heavy and solid, his legs unwilling to bend and let him move. Times like these he wished he had worked harder in his youth training, maybe then he would be fitter.
Troops were everywhere, Furies and Skirmishers patrolling the streets and the skies. Horses in bright festive colours, paints and dyes, to celebrate Alya, also roamed between the stalls and the houses. It was refreshing to see such a variety of horses, but startling to see so many of them armed. Part of him felt safe, but a larger part felt terrified. War was coming whether they liked it or not, and their beloved Sky Mother had abandoned them. Nero had to stop walking, freezing in the street, happily oblivious to everyone else. He stared straight out at the street ahead, ears pinned back, legs twitching as though fighting the instinct to run. Everything was overwhelming and he hated it, his own heart banging against his ribs to the sound of a marching drum.
Nero backed up, hurriedly pulling over to one of the buildings to catch his breath and take shelter in a the dusty grey of a half lipped shadow, eyes a little wide despite himself. He removed a flask from his satchel and sipped at it softly, waiting for his hammering heart to settle before he would continue on. |
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Post by Deleted on Dec 2, 2017 11:46:39 GMT -6
The sun shone down on the painted stallion's back, making the metallic blue of his wings shimmer with each flutter of the feathers. He held his wings out, catching the wind that drifted across Sedo, signaling Alya's displeasure. While others were hiding, covering themselves from the wind and accompanying sand, Indus actually enjoyed it. Maybe it was because of his blessing, maybe it was because of his past and living with the elements, but there was something about the wind that the Skirmisher enjoyed. He loved the feeling of the air tugging at his cropped mane and short tail, the whisper it gave as it drifted across his ears. Letting out a soft sigh, he closed his speckled eyes and held his head to the breeze, taking in a deep breath of fresh air into his lungs.
However, the time of indulging in the beautiful weather could not last for long. He was at work, so he had to act like it. Shaking his head and reluctantly dropping his wings back to his sides, Indus took to the streets. With the war hanging over their heads, Indus was instructed to spend the day in the city. He understood the pressures of war. Sometimes it was enough to drive even those not participating mad. The stress of it all could cause even the most innocent to crack, and his job was to make sure that did not happen.. or if it did, to remove them from the area.
His goggles bounced across his chest as he went, his dark blue scarf whipping in the wind at his shoulder. Oh, what he would give to be home with his daughter to make sure she was safe, but she was getting older now. He had to start learning how to back off, to not be so paranoid. She was fine. She could handle herself.. at least, thats what he told himself.
Turning his attention back to the crowd as he weaved his way through, he noticed the color paintings on most citizens' coats and the bright smiles on their faces. He couldnt help but let one slip onto his lips as well, though the cheer never made it to his eyes. His gaze lifted as he heard hooves scrape the ground in a scramble, his ears pricking as the grin fell from his face. Brows narrowed, his eyes darted toward where the sound had come from, catching the glimpse of a dark tail disappearing into an alleyway.
Instantly, his nerves kicked into gear. He was expecting today to be easy.. Tucking his wings tight to his side, he weaved his way through the crowd toward the darkness of the alley. The wind shifted cold, sending a shiver down his spine as he stepped into the shadows. He found himself standing before a slightly taller stallion. His coat roan and loudly painted, but this one naturally instead of all the bright colors the others were wearing. Letting out a soft puff of air, his nerves calming, Indus looked upon the stranger and noticed something.. wasnt quite right.
"Are you alright?" He spoke, his accent holding a hint of Oneaian gruff, but not so obvious to the untrained ear.
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Post by seechem on Dec 6, 2017 16:35:20 GMT -6
N E R O
a Saviour of Serora
'writing my poems for the few that look to me, took to me, shook to me, feeling me'
......
In the still of the alleyway, Nero almost completely missed the sound of the approaching stallion. When his eyes did finally register a change in the environment he almost started back. He was looking at the ground, a pair of hooves were now in his line of sight, white with several brown patches. In a quick movement Nero looked up from the ground, not by much as the newcomer was only slightly taller. A Pegasus, tobiano with breath-taking wings from a bird Nero could not recognise. His physique instantly told the medic that this stallion was a soldier of some kind, he had treated enough to know. This stallion was also older than him, there was a certain wisdom in his dimly lit eyes that resonated with Nero to a degree. This horse had seen and experienced far more that Nero; typically a good quality in a military individual. For several beats Nero stood stiffly frozen in place, taking the stranger in carefully, then the words he spoke registered.
"Are you alright?" the stranger's voice held a certain gravelly tone that Nero had not encountered before.
For a moment the question didn't register, and Nero had to think especially hard to try and register the meaning behind the words. Pushing the flask back into his saddle bags and lowering his head a touch; having noticed that he had just been standing tightly as though ready to flee, he gently answered.
"I just find the city...overwhelming." Even as he answered he felt the inadequacy fall onto his tired shoulders. "With Alya's withdrawal, and the current...political situation, I find I am easily...disconcerted." The close quarters of the city, the close quarters of the alley. Nero missed his Blessing bitterly, but held his tongue. Now that he had addressed the stallion, he felt a certain curiosity and professionalism return to him, he looked up at the stallion slightly, wondering whether what he had said would strike a cord with the other in anyway. |
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