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A young woman stood at the edge of the platform, blue eyes scanning the surrounding area. It seemed vaguely quiet; not always a good sign in these strange and dangerous times. One slim, pale hand was latched onto the sack thrown haphazardly across her shoulder. She was adorned in simple looking clothing. Her shirt was nothing more than a zip up, sleeveless top.
The top of the tank top was black, with interwoven, criss-crossing light brown lines and a silver zipper down the middle that stopped just above her first rip. The bottom was a dark tan. The two sides of the shirt were longer than the front and back, and buttoned onto a hip skirt, that fell down to touch the back of her knees, but was completely vacant in the front. Her belly and lower back were visible in the gaps.
The light brown, the same light brown mentioned on all her attire, hip skirt, or more of a sash, was held together with a shiny silver buckle, and white silk straps were weaved into the sides, beneath the buttons attaching the skirt to the shirt. Beneath the hip skirt, lay another skirt, far more practical than the first. It was a dark, maroon color, with a light brown line (The same as the lines on her short) around the hem of the skirt.
Beneath this, lay a pair of black shorts, with a light brown stripe near the top, and one near the bottom, and large circles of the same light brown in between. They went to mid-thigh, and at each hem, lay a small pouch, filled with medicine, and tiny weapons. Her boots were black, and open toed, looking more like sandals than boots.
They stopped just below mid-calf, and zipped up the side, adorned with a silver zipper. Her hair, which was cropped short in the back, but left long in the front, brushed her shoulders in gentle wisps. The tips were black; the rest, a light, coppery red. A small dagger rested at her hip, a short sword at the other, and a small gun resting at the small of her back. On her hands, were sturdy, maroon gloves, with interwoven strips of thin, light brown cloth running through her fingers and around her palms.
Her free hand held the reins of her mount, gripping the soft leather with sturdy, calloused fingers. Beside her, stood the creature that seemed ever at her side. A striking creature, it's massive, clear orbs blinked dolefully out at it's trainer, watching and waiting for the sure and steady commands of the tiny girl in front of it.
This was a creature bred for war.
It stood tall, the woman's head barely reaching it's withers. One would not think she might be able to tame such a beast, for it could easily overthrow her, and gain back it's freedom. But it stayed steadily at her side, it's large eyes ready and waiting. Warmonger, she was called. Her long, forest green mane and tail were smooth as silk, and brushed out until they seemed to shine.
Her olivine coat was glossy, the darker patters etched across it's short fur seeming to glow with cleanliness. A simple leather saddle adorned her broad back, adjusted for the girl's height. On the saddle, a rolled up blanket, two small skins of water, a bag of food, including bread, an apple and some cheese, a small sack of grain, a bag of indecipherable meat and a small gun were secured tightly, away from thieving hands. The girl's hand brushed the muzzle of her mount, and she smiled smoothly, her movements fluid and graceful.
Behind the creature of olive and emerald, stood a more translucent image, that of an ebony equine. It's eyes glowed a soft crimson red. Not entirely trusting of the girl, but not willing to let her go, the huge beast followed the group like a puppy, though far from being such a nonsensical creature. It snorted, it's wild eyes rolling, and shook it's head, ebony mane bouncing against it's ghost-like neck.
It was her shadow, her very own living shadow. She did not dare try to ride it yet, but perhaps, one day, she would. If she gained it's favor, that is. She called him Nyte, and he accepted this name without dispute. A soft yip near her calf alerted her to the ever watchful presence of Servahn, the poor, yet wonderful, misshapen Albie. His long tail wagged slowly, and he glanced up at his trainer with clear ivory eyes. The strange appendages on his back seemed to waver, and tense, before shuddering and quivering gently, though there was no wind that she knew of to move them so.
Above her, the rustle of wings alerted her to the fourth presence that accompanied her on her wanderings. A large, feathered creature soared above them, calling out a soft greeting, as it dipped low, ruffling the occupants of the bridge with the wind created by it's giant wings. It's dark feathers, interwoven by patterns of transluscent blue, fell flat aginst it's body. It's large, entrancing eyes gazed down at the three beings with an amused expression, seeing the girl's expression darken a bit at nearly being blown over by her friend's flippant soaring.
It let out a very charming shriek, it's voice wavering, and warbling, before it rustled it's feathers, soaring a bit higher so as not to disturb them again. "I truly hate it when you do that, you know, dear Dragon,"the young girl warbles, brushing her hair out of her face. "Must you always insist on stirring everyone up? Honestly."Huffing, she turns, ignoring the obvious humor in the great avian's eyes.
Ah, but it is so very fun to ruffle your feathers, pardon the pun. You should learn to loosen up, at least every once in a while.
The bird's thought drift down to the girl, and she placed her hands on the saddle horn, hauling herself up into her seat. Her mount skittered to the side a bit, adjusting to the slight weight of its rider. It tossed it's head, and she grabbed the reins, leaning down to pat the great beast's neck. "I don't know why I insisted on bringing along that great fluff of a feather wearer,"she crooned to the olivine creature, who snorted in amusement.
Perhaps you did not wish to grow bored. He is very amusing...If one understands his...rather cynical sense of humor.
The crimson creature near her mount's hooves began padding forward at a steady pace. "You brought him along because, if he had stayed back at the cabin, he would have driven everyone insane. You know how...Annoying he can get when he is bored." The wolf-like creature snorted, casting a wary glance up at the sky. "Maybe you should try walking for a while, bird-brain. Give some of us on the ground a piece of mind!"There was a whoosh of air, and a rustle of feathers, and the giant avian flew past them once more, clucking his beak in disapproval.
And demean myself by becoming an earth-walker, like all of you? I daresay, how utterly foolish. I have an idea. How about you come up here? The view is quite splendid. Care to go for a fly? Oh dear me, wait! Those stubby things on your back will never lift you into the air! Sorry, I must've mistook you for a bird for a second there. But I fear you are no more than a misshapen canine. Honest mistake, truly.
"Why you foul feather wearer!"The rest of Servahn's words dissolved into a fit of barks and yips, and he seemed to be chewing out (no pun intended) the creature of the sky. A grumble soon followed from both sides, and as they proceeded at a steady pace forward, they fell into a relatively smooth silence. Until it was broken by a voice that was not often heard in the small group.
"I wonder, that I do, why I ever decided to follow the four of you. You are quite odd, that you are. Such noisy and boisterous creatures. How do you keep from going mad, might I inquire?" The girl turned to look over her shoulder, seeing open honesty and curiosity in the gaze of the Nyghtmare. He looked truly perplexed, and his question was absolutely genuine.
"Well,"she began, putting a finger to her chin. "I suppose you could call it a kind of...Love. Devotion to one another. Dragon and I have been friends for ages, and Servahn has been with me since I don't know when. The years have just flown by."She smiled fondly at the Albie, who returned the smile, his eyes glowing with memories. "And Warmonger here," she patted the green beast's long neck gently, eyes warm. "She's just as much a part of the family as anyone."She glanced at the Nyghtmare, who looked perplexed and thoughtful. "Understand?"
The Nyghtmare seemed to chew on her words for a brief moment, before dipping his head and lowering his ears in embarrassment. "I am afraid I do not,"he confessed, looking quite abashed. "Love, devotion, family. These things do not mean anything to me. I have seen them only in the dreams of others, but I do not understand what they represent. I am afraid I am even more confused than I was before."He turned away, red eyes glowing in slight shame. He really wanted to understand. The girl only smiled, and tilted her head, resting one pale hand on her thigh, while the other held the reigns in a stead-fast grip.
"Let me try to explain it another way," she crooned, coaxing the Nyghtmare to look at her once more. "We are comrades. We are a herd. We protect one another, and care for one another. We are like soldiers, fighting on the same side, sharing the same battlefield. We watch each other's backs. It's very simple really. We are fond of one another, like mothers of their children. Do you understand now?"The Nyghtmare let his gaze rest on the girl, his red eyes steadily assessing her, reading her. After a few moments, the girl only smiled, her eyes never wavering from his own.
The Nyghtmare nodded, content with the answer, and continued to follow along in silence. After a few moments of quiet traveling, the woman pulled back on the reigns, bringing Warmonger to an abrupt stop. Her eyes scanned this way and that, across the different bridges that lead different ways. She sighed heavily, her hair falling over her face as her shoulders drooped. "I have been cursed with a lousy sense of direction. Which way now?"
You could go left, an amused voice called from above.
"How about right?" Servahn supplied helpfully, sniffing in the indicated direction.
Maybe we should double back, and find another route, Warmonger suggested, looking confused.
"Why not go straight?"the Nyghtmare crooned, coming over to stand beside the girl and her mount.
Oh perfect, she thought, slapping her face with her hand. Out of all the creatures in Evelon, I get stuck with the ones who can't agree on anything. What am I going to do?
(Open. Please fell free to join in!
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