Fimbulvetr

Ren

Character OTS

OTS 1
OTS 2

Björn & Lirr

Couple OTS


Open Ready for that morning light

#1

The flames roared, louder than seemed possible or necessary. Burying the pounding hoofbeats, but not the screams or the high-pitched, terrified keening. The heat was like a physical thing weighing him down. It pushed him back, prodding his eyes and nose and ears. He couldn’t wade through it, couldn’t see through it, and all he could smell was ash and hair and the awful, sweet aroma of burning flesh. He felt he was being pulled away from himself. The sensations were just as real and unsurmountable but they were also somehow less real. Happening to someone else, somewhere else, imagined, impossible.

He couldn’t go through so he tried to go around, sprinting along the fire’s edge, jumping blindly over debris and failing to dodge the whip like plumes that reached from the inferno. He ran for hours, until the sun had risen, until his lungs burned as much as his skin, until he found the edge of the blaze. Then he rounded it, and sprinted again. Sprinted back on the other side of the wall. Saved the shattering of an ankle by sheer luck or else some unseen divine intervention. The landscape was unrecognizable; the trees were ominous black posts, ash covering the ground in drifts, and hanging in the air like snow, filtering sunlight. He spent the next two days searching; pausing neither to eat (there was nothing still alive to eat, anyway), nor to drink; the water in the streams ran black and gray, as though it too was mourning the land it had passed through. Two days trying to recognize landmarks that were gone, or blackened and buried in ash. Two days of painful, jolting recognition of people he had known, cared for, led, or defended. Two days of numb, grim, determination until he found what he had been searching for but hoping not to find. Every minute of the days had been like a sliver of reprieve.
They’re not here, they got away, they’re not here, they got away. It was like a mantra, and it was the only thought he had for two days. When the mantra stopped the silence was more deafening than the fire had ever been. More deafening than anything he had ever heard.

There was no white left in Sage’s brilliant hide, just blackened leather fused to flesh. The eyelids had burnt away and Sage’s beautiful, warm brown eyes were gone too. And yet, it was her. She was where she should have been. At home, with their children.

---

Ezariel jerked awake, though he barely moved he was immediately at 100% alertness, the relaxed position of his sleep now belying the tension beneath every inch of his skin. His senses took in the surroundings and the quiet of pre-dawn while his mind scrambled to re-establish where he was in time and space and restore the continuum of the internal narrative that structures conscious life. His memory clung to him thickly but indistinctly; covering the present so that he had to drag it back to the forefront of his mind. Like a dream, though, it faded from attention before he could examine it – leaving only the impression and the mood - the smell of wood smoke and the familiar agony.

He let out a slow breath as he recognized the landscape and the events of the last few days fell back into place to explain where and why he was at this moment. He turned automatically to locate Alayaya, who slept on unconcerned, barely a body length away. Ezariel stretched, trying to release those suddenly tensed muscles, but, wide awake, he knew there was no relaxing back into sleep now. He let his gaze hang on Alayaya. There is a certain serenity in watching a child at rest, brought on by the revelation of their fragile innocence in contrast to their waking chaos. During the day Alayaya shone so brightly; in personality even more than in colour, that it was hard to rest your full attention on her for long. It was also easy to forget how small she was, how fragile.

The sky was deepest dark, there would be a few hours until the sun challenged the horizon. There were no stars. Yesterday had been overcast and that veil remained drawn over the night sky. The air had a pleasant crisp of fall about it. They had fallen asleep together at the edge of the treeline, and evergreen boughs murmured softly overhead in the faint breeze. The smell of pine and still water seemed like a fresh insult, but he recognized the reverse causation in his countertransference and pushed aside his discomfort. A place was just a place. It could be many things, and represent many more, but he could decide that it was simply a place and put the rest away.

The clouded gray of his iris was like smoke against clear glass, constant but ever shifting, unpredictable but contained. The bay stallion considered the sleeping filly for a moment, checking in with his senses, with their surroundings. After a moment he slipped away, moved a dozen feet beyond the trees toward the water. He lets his feet sink into the dampened earth. The mud pulls him downward, a welcome grounding in their new reality, a mild discomfort which was almost soothing in place of troubled sleep. He turned his gaze out over the lake, toward the opposite bank, though it was distracted before it reached the shore, caught somewhere in the middle distance between present and past.  



E Z A R I E L - ready for the morning light

power-play allowed, with all reasonableness
Tag: @[Ezariel]

#2
Lumina
Lumina’s pupil-less, celadon eyes stared across the lake, taking in everything and nothing all in the same. The night sky caused no reflections in the clear lake – it seemed more like a bottomless pit of darkness in the early-morning hours. As her vision clung to the hollowness of the lake, her mind began to stir as memories that had settled were agitated and resurfaced. She remembered her father and his words to her long ago – “go and make your life your own.” But as she considered the time she’d spent in life, could she really say she’d even bothered to try? Had she at least attempted to make life her own, or had she sequestered herself away in a hollow, away from anyone who could have helped her start anew? Maras would have been disappointed.

A sigh left her maw as she began to wander around the lake, her lithe legs stretching before her and bringing her dutifully to no place in particular. The evening air was brisk and refreshing, and although she’d had trouble sleeping earlier, she now felt more relaxed and at ease. The darkness made travel more cumbersome than usual, and she stepped carefully to retain her surefooted grasp on the earth below. The terrain undulated wildly, rising and falling even along the lake haphazardly as small streams and waterways forcefully carved their own routes to the lake. After some time, she noticed something moving nearby, and she halted immediately at the sudden change. She’d imagined herself alone in this wilderness, but clearly, that was incorrect. After a few moments, the figure walked closer to her, which she could tell only by small movements until it stopped nearby. It was too dark to discern colors or genders, but the other seemed to be only slightly larger than herself. At first glance, he seemed quite subdued in contrast to her bright hues and unusual accents. Her ears listened to the familiar sound of squishing mud as his hooves squashed against the earth, and despite the darkness, she believed she saw the equine turn and look towards the lake.  

Finding herself in a perceived awkward situation, she decided to speak up and let her presence be known. ”Um… hello there.” She felt as though she was disrupting a personal moment for the other equine, but perhaps they needed the company as much as she did. Even if conversation was unwelcome or unwanted, she often found it nice just to stand in the presence of another in silence and revel in the fact that she was not alone.

Ezariel
Speech."
Tag: @[Lumina]