unknown
Username: RockerWolfie1616
Character name: Wayra - Quechua word for "Wind"
Temper: Steady
Personality:
Imagine a strong oak tree with roots running deep, and strong wide spread limbs; it takes so much to move such an ancient tree. To uproot it would be a task only a foolish man would undertake. Like the mighty old oak Wayra stands tall and steady. Even if the ground crumbles beneath his hooves he will find a way to make it back to stable ground. Steady like the soft beat of a drum..even the worst situations are just another bend in the path of life to him. Everything happens for a reason.
Loyal to a fault Wayra won't be easily swayed on opinions. While some find it frustrating, it is this stubbornness that lends to his strength of body & mind. Growing up he longed to be a hunter, to be strong enough to forever protect his precious treasure of a sister. She is the light of his life; a mare to be cherished, loved and pampered. After many years of work the mighty stallion bowed low enough to allow one and only one warrior to ride upon his mighty white back. The warrior was young, a bit foolhardy and quick to run into dangerous situations. Unlike the stallion which he rides. Wayra likes to think things through whenever possible. It won't do in his mind to rush into something blind; to stumble in without knowing the prey/enemy you are seeking or are up against.
A good natured and overall balanced stallion to strangers..despite all these good qualities this fella is not a saint nor would he pretend to be. In life you must grow, just as trees grow outward to get more sunlight and find more water with their roots. If you don't grow you will never live. You'll never become stronger. Pride might be his Achilles heel. As of now it doesn't do for him to become a filthy wreck..it all sort of flows back to his sister. Wayra would hate to make her look bad. To make anyone think she is less of a mare..of a lady because her brother is unruly or smeared with dirt. Since his world revolves around her, he keeps himself in tip top shape. Though inwardly the stallion could care less he still feels an inkling of pride when women or mares comment on his beautiful white pelt, or on his fine shiny black mane (take a good look ladies!). On that note he will happily flirt with pretty ladies but brash and rash mares are not his favorite, rather a calm and demure mare who gets along with Leotie would make his heart sing.
How did they feel about the incident with the flood? Write the reply in character.
The months had been long but, as always he'd stood strong among both soquili and kawani tribesmen alike. That is why the sudden downpour meant so much to them all. Those first beats of the drum...the rhythmic chanting and stomping of feet & hooves joined in one loud sound begging the spirits above to bless them. Rain. Rain. Some wishes were better whispered instead of shouted in a loud accord. For what was at first an amazing symphony of delight became a twisted, sickening display of mother nature's cruelty. What was once the peaceful sound and scent of glorious rainfall became the scent of death all over again.
Panic reigned over the people; over them all! Even the mightiest of warriors were helpless when the ground shifted into wet slick mud, when the river became a beast roaring to life. Eager to swallow them up until there was nothing left of the place they'd been trying so hard to re-build. Of their home. Teepees crashed under the water's rushing force, men, women and children crumpled under the waves while the wise clung to trees or climbed up high. Not allowing panic to overtake him the strong willed stallion sloshed forward, fighting the slick moving earth to n** his sister's cheek. To shout at her. "We have to move! Snap out of it! Come quickly..I will protect you!" The wind howled and whipped, sending limbs into the rising water. Higher ground was their only option.
Character name: Wayra - Quechua word for "Wind"
Temper: Steady
Personality:
Imagine a strong oak tree with roots running deep, and strong wide spread limbs; it takes so much to move such an ancient tree. To uproot it would be a task only a foolish man would undertake. Like the mighty old oak Wayra stands tall and steady. Even if the ground crumbles beneath his hooves he will find a way to make it back to stable ground. Steady like the soft beat of a drum..even the worst situations are just another bend in the path of life to him. Everything happens for a reason.
Loyal to a fault Wayra won't be easily swayed on opinions. While some find it frustrating, it is this stubbornness that lends to his strength of body & mind. Growing up he longed to be a hunter, to be strong enough to forever protect his precious treasure of a sister. She is the light of his life; a mare to be cherished, loved and pampered. After many years of work the mighty stallion bowed low enough to allow one and only one warrior to ride upon his mighty white back. The warrior was young, a bit foolhardy and quick to run into dangerous situations. Unlike the stallion which he rides. Wayra likes to think things through whenever possible. It won't do in his mind to rush into something blind; to stumble in without knowing the prey/enemy you are seeking or are up against.
A good natured and overall balanced stallion to strangers..despite all these good qualities this fella is not a saint nor would he pretend to be. In life you must grow, just as trees grow outward to get more sunlight and find more water with their roots. If you don't grow you will never live. You'll never become stronger. Pride might be his Achilles heel. As of now it doesn't do for him to become a filthy wreck..it all sort of flows back to his sister. Wayra would hate to make her look bad. To make anyone think she is less of a mare..of a lady because her brother is unruly or smeared with dirt. Since his world revolves around her, he keeps himself in tip top shape. Though inwardly the stallion could care less he still feels an inkling of pride when women or mares comment on his beautiful white pelt, or on his fine shiny black mane (take a good look ladies!). On that note he will happily flirt with pretty ladies but brash and rash mares are not his favorite, rather a calm and demure mare who gets along with Leotie would make his heart sing.
How did they feel about the incident with the flood? Write the reply in character.
The months had been long but, as always he'd stood strong among both soquili and kawani tribesmen alike. That is why the sudden downpour meant so much to them all. Those first beats of the drum...the rhythmic chanting and stomping of feet & hooves joined in one loud sound begging the spirits above to bless them. Rain. Rain. Some wishes were better whispered instead of shouted in a loud accord. For what was at first an amazing symphony of delight became a twisted, sickening display of mother nature's cruelty. What was once the peaceful sound and scent of glorious rainfall became the scent of death all over again.
Panic reigned over the people; over them all! Even the mightiest of warriors were helpless when the ground shifted into wet slick mud, when the river became a beast roaring to life. Eager to swallow them up until there was nothing left of the place they'd been trying so hard to re-build. Of their home. Teepees crashed under the water's rushing force, men, women and children crumpled under the waves while the wise clung to trees or climbed up high. Not allowing panic to overtake him the strong willed stallion sloshed forward, fighting the slick moving earth to n** his sister's cheek. To shout at her. "We have to move! Snap out of it! Come quickly..I will protect you!" The wind howled and whipped, sending limbs into the rising water. Higher ground was their only option.
XBlind-DarknessX
He's out there somewhere, isn't he?
Username: XBlind-DarknessX
Character name: Leotie - Flower of the Prairie
Temper: Stately
Personality:
Even as a foal Leotie’s beauty captivated any who looked upon her countenance and as such she was treated as though she were a rare and delicate flower. She was groomed often in order to maintain her glossy coat and the women of the village took great pleasure in tending to and styling her lovely black tresses. They adorned her body with gold and gems to pay homage to her loveliness, as well as to enhance it. Despite that, outward beauty was not enough for a wise old Cerynei mare who held the strongest bond with Leotie aside from her brother. She taught the young mare how to be more like the graceful trees their ancestors had first emerged from by tutoring her in the ways of elegance, pride and charm. She was instructed in the many songs of the forest and in the knowledge of survival through foraging. Thus the beautiful filly grew into a regal mare in possession of a pure heart and a strong mind.
Aside from her dignified comportment Leotie is a free spirited mare who could often be found engaging in games with the children of the tribe, or curling up beside a warm fire to hear the tales told by the village elders. She assumed a very active role in the tribe as far as being near the people because they were more than just her social group, they were her family. Though her tribe holds great significance for her the one she holds higher than anyone else is her beloved brother Wayra, who the village elders call her soul twin because of the deep connection the siblings share. This bond also provided Leotie with the confidence and perseverance that enabled her to become such an accomplished mare. As long as she had her brother she was capable of doing anything, and she knew she would never be alone. She is quite dependent on the presence of her sibling even though she is not fully aware that she is.
Perfection may appear to be the only word required when describing Leotie but, like all who inhabit this earth, she is flawed. Unlike many of the other Soquili inhabiting the village she was never ridden for fear of diminishing her natural beauty. Similarly she was never used for hard labor such as going out with the women of the tribe to harvest the crops, or to forage for food even though she was well versed in the skill. She was mainly doted upon by the people and whatever she learned she was taught by her aged tutor. Though she would have gladly undertaken any tasks given to her she was never required to do so, and as such entered into a state of blissful complacence. In addition to her role as mainly an educated and beautiful companion, Leotie never learned how to properly deal with stress for many of her days passed with uninterrupted ease. It is for this reason that when she is faced with great stress she freezes up and goes into shock, like a doe caught in the sights of a hunter that becomes paralyzed by fear. Her senses become blunted and she is prone to slipping into a state of irrational panic.
In spite of her lack of experience Leotie can also be a very stubborn mare, a trait that is fueled by her pride. When learning something new she generally accepts criticism with grace, but when she is set on doing something by herself and others attempt to correct or assist her she can become very obstinate. She will not lash out but she will continue to approach the task in the way she believes it will best be completed. In other words, she may be wrong but she will not cease doing it how she sees fit and will generally not admit to being wrong even when she has failed. She is accustomed to being admired for her accomplishments; as such she is very hard on herself at times and, as mentioned above, finds it difficult and embarrassing to admit it when she is at fault.
How did they feel about the incident with the flood? Write the reply in character.
The rhythmic sound of the drums and the strong, high voices of the people flowed through her mind and body as she watched the dark clouds overhead accumulate. Finally the rain they had been begging the spirits for would fall; finally the ashes and sorrow left in the wake of the merciless fire spirit’s path would wash away in the waters of rebirth. The tempo of the drums began to pick up followed by swifter shaking of the rattles, and the bodies of the people swayed ever more quickly and passionately to the beat as the sky opened up and allowed for the first few drops to fall upon the blackened earth. The Kawani men and women threw their heads back and called loudly to the Sky People above, thanking them for answering their prayers and helping them in their time of desperation. Her brother and sister Soquili likewise lifted their muzzles toward the source of the sprinkle and sent up their trumpets of gratitude until their voices united with those of the people, turning the cries of thanks into a song of hope for new life. The mingling of both human and Soquili voices alike saturated her veins and penetrated her heart until she was unable to remain simply an observer. Tilting her head back and allowing her dark hair to cascade down her body like a silk waterfall she unleashed her voice, the sweet sound of it finding harmony with those of her family.
The jubilant song rang on throughout the desolate landscape and tears of raw emotion added to the puddles of water forming upon the barren earth. Finally their hardships would come to an end. The wounds of both the Kawani and the land would be healed, all would be right again. Larger drops fell from the sky and soon the marred earth was covered in a shallow salve of rainwater. Her long hair became drenched and began to stick to her body but she did not care, she was so swept up in the song that she did not notice the small river forming at her feet. No one noticed when the waters began to carry away remnants of their lost village, or how it drenched the graves of the freshly buried. No one noticed the damaged baskets beginning to float away, no one noticed until the cry of an infant interrupted the unity of their song. The hymn of hope for new life became twisted and distorted as lighthearted and elated voices became shrieks of fear and sorrow. Many attempted to clasp hands and run, but it was too late, the deluge had quickly transformed into a formidable water snake bent on terrorizing the already traumatized Kawani once more.
She stood frozen with both disbelief and terror in the midst of the panic, her head feeling light and as though it were no longer a part of her body. “The spirits can be both generous and cruel, thus we must be careful as to how we address them. We must use wisdom and restraint so as not to anger them.” The words of an elderly stallion she had once known rang forcefully in her ears, blocking out the screams and making her heart fall. The entire world around her slowed and the only thing she could hear were those words repeating over and over again until she was hit by something heavy, causing her to stumble. Dazed, she found herself gazing into Wayra's sea foam colored eyes and the bubble of stunned silence gave way to his yelling. He was prodding her to move, telling her they needed to go, but like an ancient sycamore tree she felt anchored to the spot. “Be careful what you ask for…” She muttered quietly. “Be careful what you ask for.” “Be careful what you ask for.” Her voice rose with each repetition until she felt him n** at her cheek. “What have we done?” She enquired shakily, as tears of defeat rolled down her already waterlogged cheeks.
Username: XBlind-DarknessX
Character name: Leotie - Flower of the Prairie
Temper: Stately
Personality:
Even as a foal Leotie’s beauty captivated any who looked upon her countenance and as such she was treated as though she were a rare and delicate flower. She was groomed often in order to maintain her glossy coat and the women of the village took great pleasure in tending to and styling her lovely black tresses. They adorned her body with gold and gems to pay homage to her loveliness, as well as to enhance it. Despite that, outward beauty was not enough for a wise old Cerynei mare who held the strongest bond with Leotie aside from her brother. She taught the young mare how to be more like the graceful trees their ancestors had first emerged from by tutoring her in the ways of elegance, pride and charm. She was instructed in the many songs of the forest and in the knowledge of survival through foraging. Thus the beautiful filly grew into a regal mare in possession of a pure heart and a strong mind.
Aside from her dignified comportment Leotie is a free spirited mare who could often be found engaging in games with the children of the tribe, or curling up beside a warm fire to hear the tales told by the village elders. She assumed a very active role in the tribe as far as being near the people because they were more than just her social group, they were her family. Though her tribe holds great significance for her the one she holds higher than anyone else is her beloved brother Wayra, who the village elders call her soul twin because of the deep connection the siblings share. This bond also provided Leotie with the confidence and perseverance that enabled her to become such an accomplished mare. As long as she had her brother she was capable of doing anything, and she knew she would never be alone. She is quite dependent on the presence of her sibling even though she is not fully aware that she is.
Perfection may appear to be the only word required when describing Leotie but, like all who inhabit this earth, she is flawed. Unlike many of the other Soquili inhabiting the village she was never ridden for fear of diminishing her natural beauty. Similarly she was never used for hard labor such as going out with the women of the tribe to harvest the crops, or to forage for food even though she was well versed in the skill. She was mainly doted upon by the people and whatever she learned she was taught by her aged tutor. Though she would have gladly undertaken any tasks given to her she was never required to do so, and as such entered into a state of blissful complacence. In addition to her role as mainly an educated and beautiful companion, Leotie never learned how to properly deal with stress for many of her days passed with uninterrupted ease. It is for this reason that when she is faced with great stress she freezes up and goes into shock, like a doe caught in the sights of a hunter that becomes paralyzed by fear. Her senses become blunted and she is prone to slipping into a state of irrational panic.
In spite of her lack of experience Leotie can also be a very stubborn mare, a trait that is fueled by her pride. When learning something new she generally accepts criticism with grace, but when she is set on doing something by herself and others attempt to correct or assist her she can become very obstinate. She will not lash out but she will continue to approach the task in the way she believes it will best be completed. In other words, she may be wrong but she will not cease doing it how she sees fit and will generally not admit to being wrong even when she has failed. She is accustomed to being admired for her accomplishments; as such she is very hard on herself at times and, as mentioned above, finds it difficult and embarrassing to admit it when she is at fault.
How did they feel about the incident with the flood? Write the reply in character.
The rhythmic sound of the drums and the strong, high voices of the people flowed through her mind and body as she watched the dark clouds overhead accumulate. Finally the rain they had been begging the spirits for would fall; finally the ashes and sorrow left in the wake of the merciless fire spirit’s path would wash away in the waters of rebirth. The tempo of the drums began to pick up followed by swifter shaking of the rattles, and the bodies of the people swayed ever more quickly and passionately to the beat as the sky opened up and allowed for the first few drops to fall upon the blackened earth. The Kawani men and women threw their heads back and called loudly to the Sky People above, thanking them for answering their prayers and helping them in their time of desperation. Her brother and sister Soquili likewise lifted their muzzles toward the source of the sprinkle and sent up their trumpets of gratitude until their voices united with those of the people, turning the cries of thanks into a song of hope for new life. The mingling of both human and Soquili voices alike saturated her veins and penetrated her heart until she was unable to remain simply an observer. Tilting her head back and allowing her dark hair to cascade down her body like a silk waterfall she unleashed her voice, the sweet sound of it finding harmony with those of her family.
The jubilant song rang on throughout the desolate landscape and tears of raw emotion added to the puddles of water forming upon the barren earth. Finally their hardships would come to an end. The wounds of both the Kawani and the land would be healed, all would be right again. Larger drops fell from the sky and soon the marred earth was covered in a shallow salve of rainwater. Her long hair became drenched and began to stick to her body but she did not care, she was so swept up in the song that she did not notice the small river forming at her feet. No one noticed when the waters began to carry away remnants of their lost village, or how it drenched the graves of the freshly buried. No one noticed the damaged baskets beginning to float away, no one noticed until the cry of an infant interrupted the unity of their song. The hymn of hope for new life became twisted and distorted as lighthearted and elated voices became shrieks of fear and sorrow. Many attempted to clasp hands and run, but it was too late, the deluge had quickly transformed into a formidable water snake bent on terrorizing the already traumatized Kawani once more.
She stood frozen with both disbelief and terror in the midst of the panic, her head feeling light and as though it were no longer a part of her body. “The spirits can be both generous and cruel, thus we must be careful as to how we address them. We must use wisdom and restraint so as not to anger them.” The words of an elderly stallion she had once known rang forcefully in her ears, blocking out the screams and making her heart fall. The entire world around her slowed and the only thing she could hear were those words repeating over and over again until she was hit by something heavy, causing her to stumble. Dazed, she found herself gazing into Wayra's sea foam colored eyes and the bubble of stunned silence gave way to his yelling. He was prodding her to move, telling her they needed to go, but like an ancient sycamore tree she felt anchored to the spot. “Be careful what you ask for…” She muttered quietly. “Be careful what you ask for.” “Be careful what you ask for.” Her voice rose with each repetition until she felt him n** at her cheek. “What have we done?” She enquired shakily, as tears of defeat rolled down her already waterlogged cheeks.
....and then they found each other again!
Write a small in character reply between the pair when they finally find each other again. What happens? How do they feel? Have things changed? How? Let your imagination flow free!
She awoke to the warmth of the sun upon her face and for a moment she had forgotten the entire ordeal. Had the children decided to take a nap with her under the oak tree? Her warm thoughts were replaced by pain as she lifted her head from the rocks it had come to rest upon. Her entire body ached and as her vision came into focus she noticed she was lying beside a gently flowing river, a sight that would be calming to most but sent a shiver of terror up and down her spine. The feeling of her body being thrashed beneath the surface of the water, of being dragged along the bottom against sharp rocks and of being struck by quickly moving debris wracked her entire body and made her feel nauseous. With a cry she leapt away from the river bank and cowered beside a boulder just in time to be assaulted by dry heaves. The sight and sound of the river prompted the paralysis she had become accustomed to when stressed to creep up her legs and cause black spots to blur her vision. But just as she was about to succumb to the panic, images of her brother vanishing beneath the surface of the angry river swept her hooves out from under her and instantly had her gentle eyes brimming with tears.
“Wayra…” Her voice was weak and sounded like more of a croak as it hung in the air for a moment before dying away. She had begun to tremble uncontrollably as her eyes feverishly jumped from location to the next as she searched the area for any sign of him. “Wayra!” She screamed, more desperation interlocked with her high pitched tone. Her ears came forward but there was no response and in that moment a swarm of worst case scenarios tormented her thoughts. Visions of him being swallowed up whole by the bloodthirsty water snake danced before her clouded eyes and her lungs constricted so tightly she was certain she was drowning again. “He can’t be…” She murmured absentmindedly. Selfish thoughts mingled with her previous concern as she began to ask herself what would happen to her now that he was gone. Who would she lean on to give her strength? Who would protect her? Who would remind her that she was never alone in this world? A scream so filled with sorrow and anguish that it caused the trees to quiver at the sound ripped from her chest as hysterics took over. She was alone. Without him she was lost.
In the instant following her nearly complete surrender something quite unusual happened. Rather than resting her head with no intention to raise it ever again she felt her muscles moving. Her body was slowly rising from the earth and a tiny, fragile spark ignited in her belly. Hope? Each movement less mechanical than the last she began walking in an unknown direction, drawn by an unclear emotion. “Wayra. Wayra.” She repeated over and over again. Like clouds parting to free the sun the fog of resignation cleared, and an inner strength she had yet to become acquainted with drove her. “I must find Wayra…”
He awakened feeling chilled to the very bone, a slow steady ache throbbing through his skull and making the world spin uncontrollably. Soaked from head to hoof the stallion looked about in confusion, lungs burning as he heaved and violently coughed. Expelling the remnants of water from his precious air passageways Wayra shifted shakily up onto all four feet..swaying like a foal who'd only just broken free of their basket. Everything was a blank. Small snippets of voices rang through his mind but, the main thing he remembered was running..then being sucked into the fast moving current. After that there was only darkness within the confused stallion's memory. Nothing made sense. Did he have family? Friends? Would someone be looking for him or had he simply wandered too close to a river and bashed his head in the process? Perhaps this was normal. Assuming he lived nearby Wayra shook most of the water from his body, then he stepped off through the nearest expanse of woods. Not noticing the drops of blood staining his pure white temple. Not noticing or caring about the mud smearing his once immaculate coat. There was just this sense of loss and loneliness that ate away at his mind but, instead of dwelling he ran free, not knowing that miles down river his forgotten sister searched for him. For the stallion who didn't even know his past.
****
Time drifted by rapidly as it is so prone to do. Wayra lived with constant dreams of a past life..a life he didn't connect to as being HIS. He wandered wild and free his mane a wreck of tangles, his coat in constant shambles. The stallion had become different in this new 'life'. Memories were hidden from the injury to his head..only remembered when he settled to sleep but, forgotten the moment sunshine filled the sky. That is until one fateful day. Wayra caught sight of a mare off in the distance. The way she moved, the way she was colored. His brain fought to remember but, his only thought was that she'd come from his dreams. When they were face to face the male felt nothing except confusing at her tears..at the fact that she knew his name; that she felt so very familiar. "I'm sorry miss....who are you?"
How long had it been since she had taken up the mantle of a mourning mare devoid of her other half? She had searched for her brother until her legs would carry her no further, until the spark she had clung so desperately to evaporated, and she was left sobbing on the forest floor. She had been unable to find him and so had to believe he had perished while attempting to save her life. To keep her from drowning when she froze up in the middle of the chaos. As her tears were taken in by the soil she remembered thinking how death would be a blessing, how being alone was unbearable. Even so, she was unable to entirely give up her will to live. That was why when a group of her tribesman drew near she sent up a pathetic whinny for help.
She was taken into the folds of her broken tribe, adding to the faces shaded by the pallor of grief. Many lives had been lost in the flood and hope appeared to be in short supply. For days the group was in disarray, staring at what had once been their happy home. Hardly anything was left, just a few piles of rubble here or there but nothing that told the story of their existence. There was nothing to remind her of her beloved brother but the pain within her heart. And yet, she did not die. Instead she sought the company of an old squaw who had lost her brave son in the flood.
Both of them grieved together, and both of them attempted to help the other stitch up the wounds in their hearts. One day Leotie found the old woman hovering over a pool of water. Sunken beneath the surface were the remnants of a burned teepee. The old woman dipped her finger into the pool and began to draw on her face with the watered down ash. Leotie felt drawn to this idea and as such approached the squaw and nudged her. “Unfortunate mare,” the woman began, “wear this mask to remember the village we lost, and those we lost within it.” At that she gently smeared the stuff around and under Leotie’s eyes.
A few weeks later the mare had gone out to help the women harvest the crops, for they had a good season. She had wandered away for only a moment when an all too familiar white and black figure emerged from the trees. Instantly tears began to flow freely from her charcoal rimmed eyes and all the weakness she had numbed herself to bubbled to the surface. He was here now. He could hold her up as she cried. He could once more be her strength. Things could go back to the way they were. “Wayra. Wayra, it is you!” She took a step forward to embrace her brother but was pushed back by an invisible force when he spoke. “W-who am I?” She stuttered, her heart shattering with each syllable.
This was not the reunion she had pictured in her dreams from time to time. No. This was a nightmare in which her dead brother, though returned to her, was not actually her brother. Even the look in his eyes told of his change. He was different both outwardly and inwardly. Falling to the ground with a delicate ‘thud’ she looked up at him and shook her head. “Why?” The battle had yet to be won and now, more than ever, she knew her life would change for good. He was here with her but he was not. The spark that had once driven her before ignited once again. She would have to figure out a way to bring him back. She needed him. She had gotten stronger since he had vanished, but now she would have to leave their home in search of answers. Many of the elders who would have known what to do had died. She would have to enter the cold hard world, forever separating herself from those days of relaxed bliss. “I will do it for you Wayra. I will get your memory back.” It was no longer about her. He was just as lost as she had been all this time.
