Character OTS


Björn & Lirr

Couple OTS

Open the wolf of sparta

The spartan male crept along through the dense underbrush of slidr lake's blooming landscape. A thin sheen of sweat coated his galaxy strewn hide that seemed to enhance his already ethereal appearance. With brows creased a hefty snort fell from his blush colored nares. He was just returning from a job, a run that some local had paid him to do. All he knew was that he was hired to retrieve a precious object, a family heirloom of some sort. Stepping out into the open Tyrelle laid his eyes upon his client, watching the man pacing back and forth with obvious nervousness. Coffee colored hooves took to the earth, his gentle light-footed touch withering and decaying all that came in contact with him.

Bushes, grass, and flowers left telltale signs of death in his wake as he cut through the lush area. The witch's curse had ruined his way of life, he would never be able to lead a normal life, to settle down or raise a family. However, he managed to use it to his advantage in the line of his work. Licorice colored strands snapped at his hinds as he finally stopped quite some distance from the worried stranger. The piebald man jolted, turning his way before hurrying over. "D..did you do it? Were you able to get the stuff." Silently Tyrelle reached around behind him to grab a leather satchel filled with the man's stolen goods.

Yeah I have it... He murmured, softly tossing the bag at the man's hooves before straightening himself back up. For a moment he was mildly confused at to why the leather itself did not deteriorate as well. But then again after emerging from that blasted tree he had begun to question everything in this land. Intense violet eyes continued to look his elated client over as he searched the satchel to make sure everything was indeed in there. "Oh thank you, thank you so much!" He gasped bending over. Mhmm... Was his only response as he watched the piebald man grab the bag within his own teeth he stood up to get ready to leave.

Clenching his teeth Tyrelle stepped in front to cut the smaller man's steps off. Signomi, poo eenay my payment. You said you would have it. He was not about to have gone through the trouble of seeking through an encampment of bandits for free. He was not some valiant do-gooder. Shrinking back the piebald stallion nodded his head vigorously. "O..oh yes of course!" The man didn't appear to have any form of coin on him but something out of the bag itself would be enough to pay him back. Hesitantly he handed over a dazzling silver chain and a single silver circlet.

Efharisto. It was a pleasure doing business with you. He muttered, rich greek accent rolling off of his tongue as the older stranger took his things and went about his business. Carefully the wolf of sparta inspected his newfound jewelry. Yes, this was a fine sense of payment indeed. He thought to himself after slipping it on to avoid losing track of it. Giving a single shake of his mane he walked over to where the lake began, taking a few sips of the cool liquid.
000 words. tagged.
Tag: @[Tyrelle]


~ Marrow ~

i am dumb to tell the weather's wind

Animated, long strides carried Marrow through the dense forestry of the central terras. A tune bopped melodically in a realm entirely his own, infectious and catching. From his petal lips a quick tune hummed but it was his gilt hooves that demonstrated the intricacy of the music: they extended forward with a snap that flicked his fetlocks, stepped tip-to-back-to-tip of hoof, gentle sways of his barrel and nape bounced with the pleasant song. He hopped - a literal hop, mind you - forward, dragging a hind hoof before stomping it back into the sod to the private rhythm. For once he hadn't kept his mane and tail in the tight plaits his mother had always fussed over, and the silvery threads of swung with each of his quick-footed moves. Whatever forces had awoken him that day in such a good stupor be praised, for it had been quite some time since he'd last felt such a light-heart freedom wash over him.

Perhaps he would have continued, lost in the devices of his own world, had he not spied the piebald male rushing down the game trail. Marrow stepped out of the way with a simple, "G'day", before continuing on at a more collected, less choreographed waltz. Once be bid a glance over his shoulder to watch the other disappear, curious what compelled the stranger to such quick strides. But was it really any of his concern? No. The song shrilled back twixt his ears and a warm, bright smile wrinkled the edges of his lips as he pushed onward. Sweat beaded along the creases of his chest and appendages and he found himself thankful for having left the cloak back in Ambrosius - though the journey back may prove prickly. Ah well. The care-free prince could have cared less. There was little to concern oneself with when one was drunk on the simplest of aspects in life.

He bopped down the path still some more, until finally his breath quickened with the touch of labor. He chuckled to himself as his strides unraveled into haphazard and lazy gulps of ground. How did Kismet do it? Just keep dancing as if she was tireless? Maybe she had some pointers... The blinding glint of sun kissed water glimmered through the treeline and Marrow fell victim to the siren song. Very suddenly his throat felt parched and he desired the crisp mountain water that Slidr could provide him. Hey, maybe it'd even refuel the tire and he could continue. Still humming the rapid song as he pricked his way through the brush he all but missed the unceremonious spots of decay. How could he? No one ever called Marrow observant. Half jumping the last bit of brush, the runaway prince jogged to the lazy ebb and flow of the lake's edge. Gritty sand crunched beneath his hooves as his muzzle lowered and his lips took greedy gulps of the refreshing aqua. It felt icy, reminding him of the winter months left behind and to come, but was quenching none the less. He almost set back into the treeline when he noticed the other male. He was kissed by cerulean stardust over a deep teal and umber hide. Mottled pink infiltrated the otherwise twilight pelt offering some softness to the stranger.

Marrow offered a pleasant smile, noticing the dribble of crystalline water on the other stallion's lips. "I'd wager there's no better water in all of the Valley besides Slidr."

TAGGED: Tyrelle
WC: idk enough
MUSE: 3/5
OOC: what a dweeb

coding © soupi
image © haraima of dA

powerplay excused
within reasonable limits!
always tag responses.

Tag: @[Marrow]

Don't ask my opinion, don't ask me to lie
Then ask for forgiveness for making you cry
Cool mountain water slid down the length of his throat, offering relief to the dry cracked feeling within. The life giving liquid refreshed his parched lips as he took a few more prolonged sips. A tired sigh fluttered past his blush colored nares as he allowed his coffee colored hooves to sink into the sod and and grit at the waters lapping edge. Amethyst eyes spied a few fish darting beneath the darker depths, receding to a safer distance beyond the reach of his hooves. Lifting his nape to normal height the greek man turned his attention back to his newly acquired prizes with an appraising eye.

The silver used to create the dainty albeit dazzling chain he wore was of fine craftsmanship indeed. The same could be said of the circlet. Although he doubted he would keep such a thing. It seemed to be too feminine for his taste. Perhaps he could trade it for something more desirable, or for a good amount of coin instead. Yes, that seemed to be for the best. Another lash of his lengthy licorice against his hindquarters and the foreign man turned his sights toward the sun. It'll be time to head off soon... There was no point in sitting in one place for too long. Can't make money staying idle.

However, just as he turned to make his leave teal harks fell backwards to pick up on the sound of hooves approaching at an irregular beat. Turning his hip away to face the incoming ivory and ebony speckled stranger he watched silently as the man came forth to take a drink himself, only to lift his visage and create the beginnings of a pleasant conversation. Tyrelle remained silent for a beat longer, gauging the stranger with a critical eye. But not to be mistaken with a look of irritation or annoyance, just simple observation. Thankfully, this stallion did not happen to be one for the men from the camp he just took from for his client's sake.

In fact, with the exception of the slight amount of mud coating the male's hooves and fetlocks, he'd guess that the stranger might have descended from some type of royalty. He'd been around and worked for enough royals to know a noble when he saw one. I suppose. Then again, I would not know. I have not been in these lands long enough. The spartan man murmured flatly, casting his purple gaze over the crystalline water.


Tag: @[Tyrelle]