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Post by Nocturna on Jul 5, 2012 20:33:14 GMT -5
[bg=black][atrb=border,0,true]But what wisdom is there within us
To live based on the feeling of our hearts
How many times has instinct let us down
Never to be thought through
Never to be questioned |
[/i][/right][/size]  [/center][/color] "That's pretty,"
Krys whispered to herself. She had crossed the fields and was at the edge of the Dark Forest when she decided to pause for a moment to observe her surroundings. It was the sky that caught her eye, its gold, amber and rosy colors cascading into a beautiful mixture. However, a chilled zephyr brushed her shoulders and her body responded with a shiver. Snorting, she looked ahead and stepped into the trees.
True as it was that she was alone, she was not particularly fearful of anything or anyone. That is not to say she was foolish; she did watch her back as well as possible. Yet so far, Krys hadn't seen too many faces anyway, so she didn't plan on running into anyone. Which was unfortunate, because she was a master with no slaves to her name, so she kind of needed to gather some soon. Her energy was not very high at the moment though, so she was content with her solitude.
The sun set further as Krys slowly walked on, and soon it was set completely. The night mist fell on her gray coat, and her tail flickered. She was not keen to touch, especially from naturally things. Other equines were fine, just not leaves or rain, or the like. It was an odd peeve of hers. Her eyes gazed upward for a moment, taking in the sight of the large, looming trees ahead of her. Their branches cast thin shadows in the moonlight, and there leaves were shelter for the stirring mammals she could hear with a simple turn of her ears. An owl hooted, and instantly she was alert. She did not assume there was danger, but she was curious. Her eyes eventually found the large bird in the trees, and she snorted in content, no longer amused after locating the silly fowl. With a quick shake of her neck, she lowered it to drink from a shallow puddle in the clearing which she stood.
Say what you really mean
When your ambition calls you
For what use is there, is there in praying
If you will only hear what you want to hear?
[/left] [/color] Song lyrics (c) The Sound of Truth by As I Lay Dying [/size][/center][/color] [/td][/tr][/color][/table][/center] [/blockquote][/blockquote] |
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Post by tarnishedcopper on Jul 9, 2012 7:39:49 GMT -5
[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,50,true] | [atrb=background,http://i1167.photobucket.com/albums/q633/TarnishedCopper/PsycheTableMiddle1.png]"Speech."
Psyche made his way along the fields, his hooves brushing against the feathered grasses beneath him with every step. His head swayed back and forth slightly with his steps, gait smooth, leggy and long, typical of his breed. He looked around, lowering his head to lip at the grasses swaying beneath his muscular, sleek form, his tail swishing across his hindquarters as the stud made his way towards the Dark Forest, his dark gaze turning towards the sky, in all its gold, amber and rosy brilliance. The light dappled against his coat, making it shine brighter, like liquid gold, nearly fiery with the sheer brilliance of light. The stallion forced the shiver back from whence it came when a cool breeze brushed over him, his desert-short coat offering little protection. But the protection it offered was just enough as he continued onwards, his dark gaze brooding, turned towards his own thoughts at hand. The Akhal-Teke nipped at some of the grasses now, having found a clump of his favorite, and then moved on, slowly, taking his time, as he was without a herd, regretfully, and thus had nowhere to be, nowhere to go.
The sun continued to set, the brilliance of its rays weakening until the moon had come out to play, turning his coat more towards a coppery silver sheen, and his dark eyes glinted in the light of the moon, night mist taking residence over the great fields, and on his chestnut coat. Psyche turned towards the looming treeline before him more resolutely, his ears swiveling with curiosity as he heard an owl, and then the sound of another horse. His interest piqued, the stallion resolved to continue onwards, wary now, ready to turn and fight, or back away on a moment’s notice. He broke through a clump of particularly thick grass easily and came upon the other horse, a mare, silver of coat. Dipping his head slightly, he whickered a greeting, ears flicking. ”Hello, miss.” He said softly, his tone the slightest bit halting, as he didn’t usually instigate conversations, though he believed this time was different.
Words: 350
Notes: Nope~
Muse: Good
Tune:
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Post by Nocturna on Jul 12, 2012 7:41:42 GMT -5
[bg=black][atrb=border,0,true]But what wisdom is there within us
To live based on the feeling of our hearts
How many times has instinct let us down
Never to be thought through
Never to be questioned |
[/i][/right][/size] K r y s t e l l e[/center][/font][/size]
"Hello, sir,"
She said. Her words were quiet yet not intimidated, and her eyes softly sat on the stallion's figure. She knew to stare was impolite, but she was looking to gain quick information about him. Besides breathing in his scent and hearing his voice, she noted his coat. Firstly, she thought it interesting that his pelt was a copper or almost gold-like color in the faint moonlight, while hers, she assumed, was a silver-like color. It just seemed fitting in her mind and gave out a content snort.
The second reason for her possibly longer-than-usual-look at the stallion was to observe his body language. Only a few seconds worth, mind you, yet it was enough. She was simply seeing how he was holding himself: was he standing tall and proud, trying to show domincance? Was he aggressive? Or was he neither, simply standing their quietly, with no alterior motive. Between those choices, he clearly was the last, and she was pleased by that. Besides, he seemed to be old enough to not be an annoying little colt who just gets in the way, so again, she was glad that he'd popped up, so far.
So, she had replied back and let out a snort, but that was all. She hardly moved her frame as they stood, whether it was on purpose or not. But because he had sent his greeting first, she decided she might continue the conversation deeper. Why not, after all. It was late a night, and she did not expect anyone else to come walking by. She said, asking for his name in slightly strange wording,
"My name is Krystelle, or just Krys if that's too long. How about yourself?"
Say what you really mean
When your ambition calls you
For what use is there, is there in praying
If you will only hear what you want to hear?
[/left] [/color] Song lyrics (c) The Sound of Truth by As I Lay Dying [/size][/center][/color] [/td][/tr][/color][/table][/center] [/blockquote][/blockquote] Wait, so... can masters recognize each other some how, or do they just have to talk and be like "are you a master?" lol |
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Post by tarnishedcopper on Jul 12, 2012 10:43:32 GMT -5
| [atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,50,true] | [atrb=background,http://i1167.photobucket.com/albums/q633/TarnishedCopper/PsycheTableMiddle1.png]"Speech."
Psyche watched the fae before him with polite curiosity, his regal expression at ease, though he did feel a bit out of his element. After all, he was not used to speaking with such faes as herself, lovely to look upon, and even lovelier to listen to, as he then learned after she spoke up. "Hello, sir," She said softly, words quite but not at all intimidated, good. Her gaze sat softly upon his figure, and this was also a good sign. So far this mare appeared confident, but not too much so, she viewed him as an equal, so she must be a master, or a very cocky slave. He bet on the former. The stallion shifted slightly, looking her over, and noticing how her own stare appeared slightly longer than necessary. He didn’t mind, for his own inspection was longer than should be necessary as well. He drew his gaze to hers, and held it, not challengingly, but just to show that he meant no harm, and was not making any signs of aggression, no matter how his tall and proud bearing said. The male knew from experience that most tended to assume him aggressive from first glance due to this bearing as mentioned earlier, but really it was more due to his overall fitness, for he took pride in his athleticism, and his confidence. The stud trusted himself, and that was what mattered. The mare hardly moved as they stood, in silence, which to him was not at all uncomfortable. Most often he preferred silence to words. For silence spoke louder in his opinion. "My name is Krystelle, or just Krys if that's too long. How about yourself?" She said, and he thought the wording curious, but understood her just fine. ”It is my pleasure to meet you, Krystelle, and your name is a lovely one, I couldn’t imagine shortening it so. I am Psyche.” He said, offering a graceful, gentlemanly bow to her, tucking his foreleg to his chest as he lowered his front closer to the ground, head tucked to his chest.
Words: 347
Notes: Nope~
Muse: Good
Tune:
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Post by Nocturna on Jul 16, 2012 9:41:29 GMT -5
[bg=black][atrb=border,0,true]But what wisdom is there within us
To live based on the feeling of our hearts
How many times has instinct let us down
Never to be thought through
Never to be questioned |
[/i][/right][/size] K r y s t e l l e[/center][/font][/size]
Krystelle saw how he held his gaze with her, eye to eye for a few moments, and she did the same. Not to challenge; neither of them were challenging the other. Yet she made sure to keep her eye contact to show that she was able to. Body language is crucial. Even looking away can symbolize weakness, and she was not about to look weak in front of him. So they held a stare for a moment or two, and it broke off, to put it simply.
If she had human expressions, she would have smiled as she saw he was also studying her as she did to him. She was enjoying this, because they both were seeming to do the exact same thing after one another. Perhaps they thought the same on many levels. She was hoping to find out, very much so, because she was already having a strong liking of this stallion. Part of it was his mannerisms, they were in sync with hers. The other part, while she was not openly admit it, was simply attraction. He looked strong and healthy, he was polite yet not a pushover, so far at least. If first impressions are lasting impressions, he was scoring very high in her eyes.
Krystelle held her breath for a second, listening as he spoke his name. His wording was polite and poetic, and she felt honored that he spoke well of liking her name. She would have returned the favor, yet her eyes widened in surprise as he lowered his front half into a bow. Realizing she should and would certainly like to return the gesture, she quickly tucked her front legs, slightly wobbly from rushing, but she executed a dainty bow. Wow, forgetting your manners. Always a great way to impress someone. Stop acting like a foolish filly! She thought to herself in chastisement.
Because Psyche was taking the time to be formal and exchange names and the such, Krystelle thought that she might also be bold and ask some more questions. Yet it was night, he may be weary from travel. Again she was quiet in speaking, yet she spoke confidently, even though she was not confident in what he might answer with.
"Psyche, do you plan on traveling on into the night? Or do you rest during these hours? Perhaps company might suite you?"
Say what you really mean
When your ambition calls you
For what use is there, is there in praying
If you will only hear what you want to hear?
[/left] [/color] Song lyrics (c) The Sound of Truth by As I Lay Dying [/size][/center][/color] [/td][/tr][/color][/table][/center] [/blockquote][/blockquote] |
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Post by tarnishedcopper on Jul 23, 2012 9:51:11 GMT -5
| [atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,50,true] | [atrb=background,http://i1167.photobucket.com/albums/q633/TarnishedCopper/PsycheTableMiddle1.png]"Speech."
Psyche noticed with no small amount of inner satisfaction that she was confident, not afraid of a challenge, nor in the mood for making one as she kept his gaze until it broke off. He watched her for a moment or two, and then stretched out his neck, feeling all the sore muscles as he did so, but nothing of the pain showed in his stoic, polite expression. He kept his visage neutral, determined to not let any sign of weakness show through, not because he wanted to impress the fae before him, but because that was his way. Introvert he was, he wanted none to know that really he was just as vulnerable and open as any other, and just as able to be hurt by hateful words, or words of disgust. True, the stallion had everything it took to be a great master, and in all his ways he did his best to be the best master he could be, but in his experience most masters like him, with kind hearts, and a desire to end the horrible treatment of slaves didn’t last long in the current world. But either way he was determined to survive, and if that meant keeping to himself for the most part, then so be it. The stag was taken from his thoughts as he lowered his fore into a low bow, head tucked to his chest, and was utterly surprised to see her return with a dainty bow of her own. He smiled warmly, glad to see someone else with manners, and elegance. Most often he rarely bowed to those unless he felt they deserved it, and even less did they return it such as the mare had just done. "Psyche, do you plan on traveling on into the night? Or do you rest during these hours? Perhaps company might suite you?" She asked, speaking quietly, yet confidently. He smiled faintly, and shifted his weight slightly, thinking. The stallion watched her for any sign of some ulterior motive that had anything to do with gaining power, but he saw none, which confused him and also piqued his curiosity. ”I do not know of traveling through the night, but I believe some rest sounds quite fine. And company such as yours sounds even better.” He said just as quietly, though his words were laced with some amount of amusement on the part of the idea that he wanted rest because he would not be able to travel through the night.
Words: 417
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Post by Nocturna on Jul 26, 2012 10:26:09 GMT -5
[bg=black][atrb=border,0,true]But what wisdom is there within us
To live based on the feeling of our hearts
How many times has instinct let us down
Never to be thought through
Never to be questioned |
[/i][/right][/size] K r y s t e l l e[/center][/font][/size] His words entered her light gray auds, and she welcomed them. She gave herself a moment before replying, because she sensed some deciphering was needed. If she was reading into his words correctly, he was saying that he could travel on, but yet wouldn't mind rest either. Perhaps he is wondering which I am going to do? He did suggest that I accompany him, so it would make sense that he leave either option available. She had taken a moment to gaze down at the ground, but after thinking she raised her head again to answer him. "Well Psyche, I would love to accompany you, even just to rest for the night," Krystell replied, a clear enjoyment in her words this time. However she realized she was still slightly tense from the normal tensing of meeting a stranger. It was not necessarily visible on the outside, but she took a moment to focus on her muscles and slowly let them ease. A calming snort was released from her maw and she felt more relaxed. Krystelle looked to Psyche to see his stance; confident yet not overly dramatic, as he had been since they meet. Good. "I think we both made a good decision to stay in each others' company. You never know when a predator could be right behind your back. I lost a slave to one before," She added, while stepping a pace or two forward. Her voice dropped slightly at the end, kind of wishing she hadn't brought it up because of the subject. Yet she knew she needed to. With her stance on the treatment of slaves, she needed to gauge what his thoughts were. Was he a cruel, vicious master who didn't care about his slaves? Or was he more like her, doing her best to care for them? Despite the fact that she had no slaves and no mate, nor any foals, she wanted to have a partner and offspring some day. And Krystelle was hoping Psyche would be her best chance at gaining that because of, simply, how hard she was falling for him at the moment. However, she had to figure out if she was what he liked. Does he like a flaunty, whorish mare? Or respectable one? Or inbetween?
[/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify]
Say what you really mean
When your ambition calls you
For what use is there, is there in praying
If you will only hear what you want to hear?
[/left] [/color] Song lyrics (c) The Sound of Truth by As I Lay Dying [/size][/center][/color] [/td][/tr][/color][/table][/center] |
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Post by tarnishedcopper on Jul 30, 2012 13:51:21 GMT -5
| [atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,50,true] | [atrb=background,http://i1167.photobucket.com/albums/q633/TarnishedCopper/PsycheTableMiddle1.png]"Speech."
Psyche waited patiently as Krystelle seemed to think upon his words. Looking back upon them himself, he realized that they hadn’t been the clearest statements he’d made. Which was odd, considering he was generally very well put together, and it was hard to find him off his beat. But yet, this fae had done so, and she seemed to be the cause of it. That she was easily distracting was not a surprise to him, but what was surprising was just how distracted he was because of it. He had been around many other beautiful master mares, but had easily pushed down the allure of their beauty because of their personalities, but then, he had found nothing wrong with this master mare’s personality, so he must have been letting his guard down involuntarily. Which he was not ready for. Making sure his walls were nicely in place, the polite expression of friendliness and curiosity settled over his features like a blanket, and he watched her as she lifted her head to reply to his words. “Well Psyche, I would love to accompany you, even just to rest for the night," Her voice held clear enjoyment as she spoke this time, but he still sensed a tenseness about her, which soon eased and then disappeared altogether. The stag smiled faintly. ”So it’s settled, then. Where would you like to rest? I have a number of places, for I have the tendency to never stay in one place long, but if you have someplace in mind, I am happy to accompany you, and offer what companionship I may.” The stallion said courteously, and dipped his head. "I think we both made a good decision to stay in each other’s' company. You never know when a predator could be right behind your back. I lost a slave to one before," She added, moving forward a step or two, her lovely voice dropping slightly at the end, and he lowered his head slightly in response. ”I agree. Two are better than one, especially in case of predators. He watched her for a moment, gaze unreadable, and then he dropped his head lower, gaze filled with the utmost sympathy and understanding. ”I am sorry for your loss.” Psyche said simply, but his words were not what spoke of his character, it was his tone. His tone that spoke of his compassion, his empathy to loss, especially that of a slave. And it was his tone that said he was one of the good masters, and he gave all his best to the slaves he took in.
Words: 431
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