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Post by sheatothebay on Dec 3, 2017 23:01:28 GMT -6
L Y N X
Serora | The Folk
Oh my darling, it's true.
Beautiful things have
dents and scratches, too. The cardinal-eyed mare gave a sigh from where she laid in the shade the rock cast on the desert floor, her gaze on the goats nibbling the desert grass. The day had been quiet. None of her precious stock had attempted an escape (not even the useless yet precious Boer kid Juarez had given her in their last meeting), and she couldn't help but smile at her little companions. The evening was fast approaching across the sandy plains, and she was half grateful, half bored with the lack of events from the day. But as the sun approached the horizon, it was feeding time. Hauling herself to her hooves, the mare gave a hefty shake from nose to tail tip, sand strewn from her sleek coat as if her pelt were resistant to the stuff. She had the loving naivety of a Seroran, but her flair was almost Aodhian compared to many other herd members. But what could she say? She loved looking nice, even when surrounded by goats (which was never a problem, as goats were her favorites and she had no idea why people bothered with chickens).
Lynx hummed softly as she began going about feeding the goats, the entire herd bouncing excitedly up to the trough and switching places a few times because they thought one of their herd mates had better feed than they did (even if it was all the same stuff.) Lynx just gave an amused snort and watched them from a few lengths away. She was tempted to head inside for a moment, but movement out of the corner of her eye distracted her and kept her out for a moment longer.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 3, 2017 23:20:50 GMT -6
The sun was slowly dipping down into the horizon as the evening approached. Indus, among his triad partners, had been out for the better half of the day training. The merciless sun had been beating down on their backs, making them thankful for the soft breeze that had picked up while the afternoon faded away. Despite the cooling breeze, Indus still found his hooves sinking into the sand a little more than usual, his lungs heaving with each breath, and sweat dripping off his brow. He was exhausted.
Slowing to a trot, he dipped his head as his partner, and best friend, Bisbee shot over his head, the painted stallion shouting at him about being a "slow poke" followed by words that had been taken by the breeze before they had a chance to meet Indus's ears. However, the painted pegasus allowed a soft chuckle to leave his lips. He contemplated shouting back, but knew the other stallion would never hear him. Bisbee was nothing but a bundle of energy, always outworking both Indus and anyone else who happened to be training with them. Indus always wondered how such a goofy, strange stallion like him made it as a Skirmisher, but Bisbee was smarter and faster than he looked, making Indus grateful to have him on his team, even if he could get a little.. irritating at times.
His attention turned at the sound of something rattling in the distance, his ears flicking up as he caught he tail end of moving goats. However, he didnt have time to dwell on the little creatures for long, as he heard a thump sound from behind, hooves hitting the sand. Turning, he came face to face with Bisbee's wings as he tucked them back to his side.
"I need a break." Indus remarked, stretching out metallic blue wings, feathers shimmering in the lowering sunlight. Beneath his wing flashed a dagger that was tucked carefully against his side, only to be seen if he opened his wing as such. Always prepared, he was.
His ears flattened as a laugh sounded from his friend, but he rolled his eyes and turned away. "Not everyone can go all day like you!" Indus shouted over his shoulder, immediately regretting it when the other replied with a snicker and an innuendo. Typical.
A glance was shot back toward the goats, but only for a moment, as he picked up his scarf that had been piled in the sand. He shook out the dark blue fabric and ran it down his neck, attempting to dry the sweat that had clung to his sooty coat.
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Post by sheatothebay on Dec 3, 2017 23:33:51 GMT -6
L Y N X
Serora | The Folk
Oh my darling, it's true.
Beautiful things have
dents and scratches, too. Lynx was contemplating heading back inside when the movement caught her eye again. Her ears swiveled behind her, and her head followed as she saw three equine shapes in the distance. Giving a snort, her small sturdy hooves moved almost silently as she crossed the fenced in pasture, her goats trotting happily around her, bleating as they tried to catch their master's attention. Of course it did work for a moment as the mare lowered her head, receiving plenty of sniffs and a few nibbles on her forelock. She loved her goats. They brought prosperity to her family of one and company to the bleakness of the Sedo deserts. They had their little quirks, their own personalities, and each one was named and given attention. Happy stock made for good product. That and she simply enjoyed the little guys.
The distant echoes of voices caught her ears again, and she raised her head away from the few goats that had demanded attention, giving a brief apology despite their lack of sentience. She moved forward once again, looking carefully until she reached the edge of the grassy little pasture. She noticed a figure swooping through the air, immediately noticing it to be a pegasus, calling to a partner on the ground. Either crazy stallions, skirmishers, or both, she thought, but not out of contempt, but curiosity. She couldn't flirt to save her life, but it didn't mean she wasn't proud of her straight sexuality and eye for handsome feathered stallions. She squinted for a moment, wondering if she could identify the triad from passing by, but couldn't see them as well as she'd hoped.
So instead she stayed on her side of the temporary fencing that could be picked up and moved if she needed to move the herd to another spot. Her goats went back to grazing, and she kept watch on a different figure, the figures of the two skirmishers in the distance and wondering who they were and what the point to their interesting tactics were. Training, her rump. They looked more like playing colts.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 3, 2017 23:52:33 GMT -6
Slinging his scarf over his shoulder and leaving his partners behind, Indus took to the long trek home. He knew his daughter would be home by now, and probably waiting for him.. or not. He never knew these days. She was so.. frustrating. Narrowing his brow, he glanced back at his partners briefly as he contemplated staying for only a moment, but decided against it. He was tired, his muscles ached. Even if it meant no personal space from the light of his life (he reminds himself through gritted teeth), he was ready to go home and crash.
However, going home meant passing by others, which typically meant needing to stop and chat every now and then. He paused in his tracks as he looked toward the pen with the goats, noticing a stranger standing by the fence. Casually, his speckled eyes darted to each side, but there was no exit to be found. Unless he wanted to awkwardly walk across the desert in the direction he most definitely didnt need to go, he would need to communicate.
Letting out a soft sigh, striped hooves carried him forward. As he marched his way forward, sand kicking up at his heels, he realized the stranger before him was a mare, her hair long and silky, the sunlight shining off well groomed locks. Her coat was pale like the sand, but covered in little spots and small paint markings. Not too flashy, but not too plain either.
Shuffling his wings at his side, he made sure his dagger was carefully hidden behind blue feathers and pulled his goggled from his eyes, letting them dangle at his chest. His eyes squinted from the sunlight, suddenly struggling to see without the tint of the goggles. It was nice, though, as now he was not staring through an inch of sand.
"Evening." He greeted with a nod as he passed, his tone not particularly cheerful, but certainly not unfriendly either. His accent held a hint of Oneaian rumble, but was well hidden to the untrained ear. Indus had been working on it since he had joined Serora. New herd, new life. He didnt even want to sound like his past anymore.
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Post by sheatothebay on Dec 4, 2017 11:38:56 GMT -6
L Y N X
Serora | The Folk
Oh my darling, it's true.
Beautiful things have
dents and scratches, too.
Lynx could now see that both stallions in her line of sight were pegasi, and she could tell that the one on the ground was probably exhausted from whatever foolery the triad was committing as she refused to believe they were actually training. But the two seemed focused on what they were doing, and Lynx just gave a sigh and turned back towards her herd with full intent on going in to prepare something for dinner.
But then the tired stallion turned to head back in the direction of Osulas, and she decided to stay out for just a little longer, swishing her tail softly as she noticed the stallion coming closer and closer.
At closer glance, she thought he was familiar, a heavier build and a flashy black and white painted coat. Her eyes couldn't help but stray to his huge metallic blue wings, and she saw that his path was probably going to come right up next to her field.
At his greeting, however, she could hear the accent that coated his voice. It was like it was transitioning from something else to the Serorans' tongue. She had a hunch that it was Onean, but she decided to find out for herself if she could get the stallion to talk. Plus, it wasn't all the time that she had people near her fields. She had to travel for interaction with others. Not too far, of course, but still.
"Good evening, sir," she replied with a smile and gleaming cardinal eyes. "You a Skirmisher?" she asked quickly, though she had a feeling she knew the answer. He was a strong horse and was coated with sweat and dirt from a day of working on whatever it is Skirmishers worked on.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 4, 2017 12:18:43 GMT -6
His gaze flickered in her direction as she greeted back, his head tipping up ever so slightly as she called him "sir." He hadn't been called that in years. At least someone around here had a little bit of respect. His ears flicked as she asked if he was a Skirmisher, noting that she wanted a conversation. His eyes stared longingly toward home for only a moment, before he swiveled on his heels and turned to face her. Well, a quick talk wouldnt hurt. The breeze played with his cropped mane as he nodded.
"Yeah." He replied, picking up his speckled gaze and peering over the fence. Goats, right. What were these people called? "And you're a.. herder?" He couldnt remember if "herder" was the correct term for people like her; those who tended to animals. "Herder" was the word in Onea, however, so he couldnt be too far behind.
He knew there were others who did such a job as well; he had seen some families with chickens and sheep and animals similar. He never would have thought that a herd living in a desert would be manage to feed grazers as well, but lo and behold, they figured it out. His ears tipped to the side as he looked to his hooves. Yes, there was some grass here and there. Granted, he was used to the city.
Taking in a breath through flared nostrils, he picked up his gaze again and focused on the mare before him. His mind easily wandered after a long day like today. "Oh, my name's Indus." He quickly introduced himself; something he easily still forgot to do. Vagabond thieves rarely introduced themselves, unless it was with a knife to the other's throat. His lips pressed together in an uneasy smile. Boy, was he happy to be out of that life.
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Post by sheatothebay on Dec 4, 2017 14:08:43 GMT -6
L Y N X
Serora | The Folk
Oh my darling, it's true.
Beautiful things have
dents and scratches, too. The mare smiled amusedly at his awkwardness, knowing full well her own quirks. He seemed very quiet and it also seemed that he didn't quite know what to do to interact with others. At least, that's what she was thinking from his whole demeanor. But he was kind, it seemed, and that was enough for her to continue on. She gave a small nod when he asked if she was a herder.
"Indeed I am," she said with a smile. "Always liked goats, never thought I'd make a living off of them. Interesting little things. Just grateful they don't graze the grass down too fast." she added with a slight chuckle, looking back towards her herd of little animals. One looked up and gave a bleat before going back to its little patch of desert grass. Her attention turned on the stallion once more. Lynx could also tell he was easily distracted, watching him carefully as they talked and seeing him turn away from the direction of the city gave her the ghost of a slightly wider smile on her lips before his voice roused her again.
Indus was the handsome pegasus stallion's name. Interesting and unique, for sure. She liked it.
"Pleasure, Indus," she responded, dipping her head respectfully. "I'm Lynx."
Lynx could definitely tell by now that Indus did indeed have a different dialect, but it wasn't a truly big deal. Serora took in Vagabonds from all over Hireath. It wasn't surprising to hear a non-Seroran accent. But it didn't mean it didn't pique her curiosity still.
"Your accent, it's nice, but it's not of Serora... Where are you from?" she asked with a swish of her tail. It was rumbling. Ten shards he's from Onea, she thought to herself.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 16, 2018 22:34:08 GMT -6
The stallion's brow quirked as she mentioned the goats and how she made a living off them. Indus didnt know much about the ways of livestock, but he couldnt imagine a way someone would make a living off of goats of all creatures, but.. he was not one to judge. This was Serora, after all, and Serora had some odd jobs floating around that he had never heard of before. The herd life was odd, for sure.
She introduced herself and he gave a dip of his head, his damp forelock brushing over his blue speckled brown eyes. "Nice to meet you." He said in return. It was always nice to meet another friendly face, though Serora was full of those. It was almost a chore to find someone who didnt have a smile on their face.
His ears flicked back as she asked where he was from and he felt his heart stop in his chest. He always got an uneasy feeling when he was asked that question. Of course, no one knew he was a thief, as he hadnt told a single soul, but he always got a feeling of regret and disappointment when he thought of it.
Clearing his throat, he shook the nerves from his metallic wings, his feathers fluttering with the sudden movement.
"Uh.. Onea." He replied. "My parents were vagabonds. I felt that life was too dangerous for my daughter." There. That was all the information he had shared, to anyone for that matter. They didnt need to know what he had did or the horses he had hurt.
"What about you?" He asked, eager to change the subject. "Are you from here?" Her accent sounded like the rest of them, but it didnt hurt to ask.
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