misty mountains sing and beckon me into the light

Nomad - 19 years
Played by LixyLime

A warm, gentle breeze whispers softly through the woodlands as the spell of evening begins to settle over the world of Liridon, beckoning the tall and wild blades to sway softly to an inaudible melody only the forces of nature could hear. Even the birds here seemed hardly capable of refraining themselves, their bright and cheerful voices filling the canopy above in a delightful symphony of varied soprano chirps and trills that so many took for granted. Branches rattled against their close neighbors, leaves of almost every shape and shade of emerald imaginable rustle with every turn and change of unseen zephyrs... It went without needing to be said that this serene world was very beautiful and could likely calm even the most restless of souls. However, there was a difference between a restless soul and a wild spirit, or so the brindled woman would dare to claim. Those same invisible finger which played with the trees and the underbrush of the wood run playfully through thick and silken tresses of dark cocoa and caramel, tickled raven-hued feathers anchored to large wings folded neatly to the femme's uniquely colored skin, and only seemed to fuel the flames of untamed wildness burning passionately within her heart.

Like always, it beats to the sound of her own drum, the pegasus ever-dancing to her own rhythm. Such was Fable's way, and her small family and nearly forgotten group of childhood friends would not tell a curious mind anything different. Her elegant nape is arched, chin tucked in towards her chest as the winged woman moved almost effortlessly through the trees at an extended lope, the sound of obsidians against soft soil offering to perked harks a satisfying and smooth refrain as she delves ever deeper into this foreign realm. She drinks in the sounds, scents, and sights with swiveling ears, quivering nares, and alert, bright baby blues that watch the changing landscape with wild fervor. The damp foliage from yesterday’s gentle rain shower, the music of the trees and the wind playing in such a simpatico way, the vibrant greens and browns of the woodlands surrounding her, the dying light of the sun breaking through the trees that steadily grew thinner with every forward stride she took… the spirited femme could hardly keep her heartbeat steady! If only Treska hadn’t taken so long on her little hunting expedition that it had left the all too eager Fable to decide that she would just have follow the clear scent trail left behind when her small companion managed to fill her belly. How the brindled freinn dragon was missing so much!

Then, at last, her chase after the setting sun is rewarded, breaking away from the long shadows cast by towering trees and greeted by open a pebbled shore. Here, the wild woman slows her dancing pace to a graceful half, a great lake now stretching out before the brindled femme with raven-feathered wings, its surface rippling as the wind brushes against its waters like the tender hand against a lover’s cheek. She can hear the gentle lapping of small waves as they licked almost playfully at the small stones and grains under her obsidians. And yet, she cannot help but stare at the lake, a perfect reflection of the painted sky above despite its dancing. For a moment, she muses how the water here seems to be made of gold beneath the vibrant light of the setting sun who sunk ever deeper into the western horizon.  How jealous the sky would surely be if the lake were made of such a breathtaking wonder! Though, perhaps it was of good and sound reason that the gods have not created such beauty. She couldn’t even begin to imagine the greed it would invoke on the world, and there was quite enough of that without a lake of pure liquid gold.

It calls to her, this lake of gold, though not in a way greedy or lustful. It was innocent and warm, like an old friend that she hadn’t seen in seasons urging her to join in a game for old time’s sake. Fable is unable to refuse the tempting whisper into her wild heart then, the femme’s love of the water having always been undeniable when as a small filly. And so, tossing her refined head upwards and lifting caramel-tipped mocha tendrils high so that they are tousled by the breeze, slender dancer’s limbs carry her into the cool waters, each prancing step breaking the surface with a splash strong enough to send droplets into the air and shower her underbelly. They fly around her as she moves along the shallows to a song only her heart knows, each drop catching the dying sunlight and glittering like diamonds around the spirited creature. It is then that lilted laughter spills into the serenity of this beautiful landscape, as wild and sweet as the air that seemed to dance alongside her. In moments such as this one, she forgets that there may be others nearby. And yet, she does not care. Let them watch her dance! Let them eye her curiously or judge her.

Fable knew who she was, and this was something that not even the gods’ opinions of her could ever hope to change.

. . . . you'll find me where the wilds things are . . . .

- Darkness Elemental - Immortal
Played by Lee

Such a strange creature this was, I thought to myself watching as the water splattered in every direction from the disturbance of the pegasus frolicking in the cool waters. The poor fish must be terrified, another thought crossed my mind. Dark corners of my velvety lips began to turn upward following the thoughts that had crossed. Perhaps she didn't know others were in the area - or she just didn't care. Poor feathers would be soaked and by the time she returned to the shoreline she'd look like a drowned rat. Poor thing. I thought casually while watching the creature enjoying herself in the only way she knew how.

Though it wasn't my place to stop her, by any means. Overly large oval shaped ears twisted the blue-teal insides facing the direction she'd been heading, a song began to beat against my drums. Even if she wasn't singing loudly my ears were sensitive to all noise. I had heard her coming from miles away - carelessly stomping around the forest making such a racket. So much so it had disturbed my resting the peacefulness of this lake now drifting away into the recesses of my mind. Thankfully, at least, she was entertaining to watch - but for how long would she continue? Would she do so even knowing there was one attempting to take an afternoon nap in the shade of a large tree near the once pristine lake?

Probably. None concern themselves with others these days it seems. I pressed my dark lips together removing the smirk that had once plastered itself across my dark features and instead began to sit upright and rest my side against the very tree that gave me shade. My own dark appendages half feathered-half webbed tucked into my sides all one color blending with the shadows. The only thing that really stood out were probably my eyes, and the horns that curved along my features. Taking in a deep breath before raising my own voice in order to cut her drowned out song, "A little louder won't you." I called, my husky tone carrying across the land and well within the lake. Not strong enough to leave behind an echo, but perhaps I should have.

Nomad - 19 years
Played by LixyLime

The wild-hearted woman has been called many things in her relatively short lifetime. Her sweet yet complacent mother had called her beautiful countless times. While there were few that looked like Antabellum's daughters, Fable and Fauna being the only two girls in the kingdom with the exotic reverse brindle markings that covered her lithe frame. While she was almost the perfect reflection of their mother physically, painted with chocolates and caramels, feathered wings a deep and inky blank like the mischievous raven she was not too unlike, dancer's legs splashed in black and white, her younger sister took after their father. Flora was bathed in sterling silver and sable, her own limbs painted in pearly white. Where she had the white streaking down her face, Flora had been graced with a white snip and peculiar heart-shaped star upon her brow. Her own feathered wings were the same deep ebony as Fable's, and the sisters shared the bright baby blues of their father. Indeed, the two girls were quite the eye-catchers in Everyn, but Fable was not the sort to spend so much time concerned with her looks like some of the prissier fillies. She would still chase the other colts and fillies through muddy rivers without a care in the world or kick up dust and dirt as she pranced and bucked in whatever game of make-believe that she and her friends were enamored with at the time. Sure, her mother would fret and tell the girl to wash up before bed, but that was the great thing about baths! No matter how dirty she might get from her adventures, there was always a river or lake nearby. Or - as she had recently discovered - an ocean!

From her father and many of the elders, she'd been called mischievous. Though she'd never done anything with ill intent, there was no denying that the filly had always had a knack for being where she shouldn't be or doing what she shouldn’t - like sneaking into the castle gardens without an escort. But, when she’d been double-dog-dared to do it by her friends who were all too afraid of getting caught, what other choice did the brindled pegasus have but to show them that life wasn’t worth living without a little excitement here and there? There was something about the rush of adventure, of seeing new things even when they were perhaps a little forbidden, that the winged girl had never been able to shake. Well, not that she ever tried to. Life was too short not to flirt with the unknown and undiscovered, always erring on the side of caution when something grand might be waiting around that metaphorical bend in the path untraveled. It was because of her desire for seeing the world beyond what she already knew and experiencing new things where she could, that her friends had so often called her adventurous. However, not everyone called this passion in the spirited femme that. Her ever-wary father called her reckless, while others who observed the maiden would call her unruly or rebellious rather than spirited. Not everyone within Everyn had kind of complimentary things to say about the winged wildflower child, but then again, she hardly needed their praise or approval for any degree of validation. Never has she allowed for the small-minded opinions of others to keep her from being who she was.

However, she has never been called strange before. But there was a first time for everything.

She hadn’t seen the figure lurking in the shade of his tree near the shore, having been lost within her own wonderment at the landscape before her. Had she noticed him attempting to sleep, she would have surely gone further away to enjoy herself on this beautiful, clear evening. But, no one was perfect, were they? So, when his husky tones carry over the distance to her, the brindled woman halts in her dance, twin harks pressed forward amidst chocolate and caramel tresses as bright baby blues settle upon the stallion unlike anything she’d seen before. And he thought that she was strange for dancing in a lake! Perhaps most may have grown sheepish with the knowing that they’d disturbed someone, a soft-spoken apology echoing in reply. However, Fable couldn’t think of a moment in her near or distant past where she’d been made to feel such a thing as embarrassment for reveling in the gift of life she had been given. Instead, there is an impish smile dancing upon her lips, soaked wings still folded against her lithe frame as she tilts her refined head ever so slightly.”I certainly could, sir, but only if you ask nicely”, her lilted voice smooth as milk and honey answers back cheekily. She hardly missed the sarcasm in his voice, and it was his own reaction to her presence that has the winged woman feeling a little devilish in this moment. Her gaze glitters as she finds dancer’s legs carrying her closer to the man whose skin were dark splashes of stormy gray and midnight. She couldn’t say that she’d ever seen a winged beast like him, with scales adorning his skin, horns the hue of the caribbean sea and accented in gleaming gold.

She stops a distance away then, her gaze traveling to those large appendages upon his shoulders, both webbed and feathered, just as unusual as those large ears that wear the same shade of blue as his horns. She observes him closer now that there is half the distance between them than there was before, noticing now that his less than pleased eyes of ocean blue are slitted like that of a dragon. And his tail, it was also rather dragon-esque! She’d heard of what she’d always believed to be tall tales of beings who carried dragon blood within their veins, their hide nothing but scales, and their teeth sharp and lethal should they find purchase upon a creature’s flesh. She’d believed those stories to be simply myth, a device used by parents and elders to captivate youths so that they might gather around in depth-less wonder rather than running amuck and refusing to settle down for sleep. Now, however, she wonders if perhaps there was more to those tales. The man before her certainly made it hard to believe that they were mere fairy-tales now. She notices how he leans against his tree, and she finds it almost amusing that you would have such a lackadaisical stance despite voicing his apparent dislike at her wild display of enjoyment ignited by what she’d discovered here.”You don’t seem entirely displeased with me. I’d even dare to say that you found my little display entertaining to some small degree, perhaps?”, she says in that same smooth, lilted lyric as before. Maybe she was wrong, but she doubted it. If he’d been truly disturbed to the point of annoyance, she would have expected a scowl upon those handsome features of his.

Who knows, maybe he’d surprise the brindled woman more than he already has.

. . . . you'll find me where the wilds things are . . . .