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 Posted: Thu Apr 24, 2008 11:35 am
"Standing by the ruins of your soul,
That cries for some more meaning.
Wondering when you have
Become so cold."
It wasn't often the young mare sang. In fact, this was perhaps the first and only time she'd found such movement to allow her eternally soft voice to try. The words were nothing but a painting of her soul, an out for her feelings, her thoughts, her ideas and fears. It wasn't a happy song, it wasn't a loud song even though she cried out as loud as she could.
Ah, though she was no mute, she was cursed to never speak above a whisper. Such was Fate's pleasure, the gods seemed to smile down upon the speech impediments of her family. Ah, but it could always be worse. . . She could have been born a complete mute. To Rue, yes, such a thing might be a curse. But had Cassiel lost her voice, her ability to speak, perhaps it would have been a blessing to all. To not give voice to her hurts, her pain, her bitterness.
Maybe the world would have been better off had she been silenced. But any knew that the world would always be better when it came to the art of 'what if'. . . There was no use mourning her past, what was done was done and she had no control to change it. Some said to look forward to the future, or at the very least live and love in the now. But there was little to dream, little hope for. Instead she wandered, alone, disrupting little and avoiding most others. She thought of her family, the two halves that were ever so different, ever so opposite. One half hardly knew her existence; the other seemed to embrace her too much, tried too hard for her sake.
Either way she looked, she felt guilty. Forever guilty. "So cold,
And all the pictures of your past are gone.
So cold, so cold,
Forget yourself
And who you are,
Another life is not that far.
Was that her dream? As she sang, step by step, she wondered. A new life? A new someone? To forget the past, to worry not about the future and her crimes of self-doubt and self-loathing. Did she seek normalicy or wish for something darker? Did she follow Reapers path or that of Twilight? Both stallions were brave, in their own way - Reaper taught her strength through force and encouraged willpower and stubborness. Twilight taught strength through peace and acceptance.
Either way, Cassiel had managed to fail them both. She wasn't strong, like Reaper or Ezriel. Her anger and bitterness wasn't lashed out around the world, but directed more upon herself. And as for Twilight, she had never learned his art for peace and self-acceptance and worth. She felt like a plague, and couldn't shake the feeling no matter how hard she tried.
Pathetic. That's what she was, but the young mare knew no other way. The shadow of her soul reminded her constantly, whispered its own poisoned lullaby to remind her of her place. To fight the darkness, the hurt, was difficult at best. But at least away from Eponine, away from Rue and Twilight and Aiolos and Dante and Ezriel . . . at least here, wherever here was, she didn't have to think of them.
Just her voice, the ground beneath her hooves, and her thoughts.
"Forget yourself
And who you are,
Another life is not that far."
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Posted: Thu Apr 24, 2008 12:12 pm
Everything had changed.
He didn't find this news surprising, he had been asleep for quite some time and as he had said so often - time regardless of how short or long the period may be - had a habit of changing things. Sometimes these changes were great, other times they were small but no matter this shift in circumstances they were often difficult to adjust to. He found himself in this position as he drifted through the forests he had once been so familiar with.
He wasn't jaded, on the contrary he was still agile and comfortable despite his apparent 'age' in comparison to the new generations of soquili that now lurked within these lands. But the trees, the land beneath his feet, everything had shifted considerably and without his sight (a willing sacrifice) he now relied heavily on his companions to direct him through the territory he now longer knew.
To onlookers, the sight of a spider directing a very hairy stallion would have been comical, but to him it was a necessity.
Regardless, he had made the decision to explore once more as he waited for his son to return. There was no point in dwelling in the same Grove for mindless months, or even years for such a return. The spirits had long warned him that such a change could take some time...the sacrifices required for his son to succeed would be revealed in time. As of yet there had been no signs of his return but Cyn had faith...his son was a strong boy after all.
Thus, it was unsurprising that he now explored the lower regions of the Kawani lands. Even the scents had changed, the familiar chatter of fellow creatures of his own kind had faded. Life had progressed steadily throughout his slumber and now... It was as though even the flowers had changed. Perhaps it was simply that his senses were heightened but they seemed to have a far more powerful scent to them. The choice to walk as one of the blind paid off on so many levels.
He appreciated more, and he didn't judge...After all, how could one judge based on looks when they couldn't see?
A small smile lined his equine lips as he pressed on through the forest. He heard the birds above his head, the faint rustle of the creatures roaming in the undergrowth... Even his rather fluffy hooves drifting across the leaves and shrubbery were easy to detect. However, there was something that didn't quite fit and it was with a raised brow that he came to a halt and lifted his head.
Ears perked forward, he would have furrowed a brow in confusion but instead he simply waited. Such a soft, barely even audible lilt caught his attention. Frankly, he could have sworn it was merely a figment of his imagination given the strain it required for him to hear it but...
What was that?
Uncertain as he was in relation to the sound, a tiny fibre of his being encouraged him to at least try to uncover the secret. Perhaps it was his imagination but heh - it'd give him something to do instead of mindlessly wandering about right?
"Watch out for the tree!" his spider companion shrieked in alarm as he smack his head straight into a branch.
"OUCH!" He yelled in a somewhat uncouth manner.
"Oi, you really have to tell me what you're planning before you do that." The spider cooed, an exasperated tone easy to detect in it's tiny voice.
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Posted: Thu Apr 24, 2008 12:35 pm
Cassiel might have continued her walk and song, oblivious to the winged stallion not far from her. The young mare always felt as if her own senses had dulled - numb to the world, numb to seemingly everything, the broken mare didn't often keep in consideration or mind who might be around. She feared no predator, if her fate was to be devoured or ripped to pieces, than so be it. . . It probably was for the best, was it not?
But her song was interrupted, and in the most unusual of manners. A pained exclamation, one closer than she had noticed, distracted her. Pink ears flicked up in a moment surprise, and a sliver of concern caught the mare off guard. She might think little of herself, little of her worth, but she had enough good in her heart to feel something for others.
Even if it was slight.
Her ebony tail swished behind her, slowly, as she peeked through the shadows of the nearby woods. Someone was there, something shuffling, and from little she heard it seemed big. Large.
She could run. . . She could run, hide, and avoid interaction. It wouldn't be difficult, and with the nearby woods it would be easy to disappear. But she was no coward, at least in a twisted sense. Reaper had talked that in to her as a filly, and Ezriel's strength did run through her blood. She wasn't afraid of the stranger that lurked nearby. . . but she felt bad that he might very well have to interact with her.
She'd make it brief, keep it simple, and hurry out of his way as soon as possible. Eponine and Twilight had taught her enough to care - as did Luca and Tobie. She owed it to their kindness and generosity to be the same.
Lowering her head, the young mare took a few steps closer because she knew her words wouldn't carry far. Ebony gaze lowering to the ground, the young mare spoke. "H-hello . . . are you quite all right?" It was a small concern, but enough.
Part of Cassiel doubted whether or not she'd receive an answer; chances were her voice went unheard and unrecognized - it happened. At least she tried, at least they couldn't say she was completely heartless.
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Posted: Thu Apr 24, 2008 12:57 pm
He had heard her, between his struggles with a now stuck horn and the rustling of the leaves above his head. It had been faint, much like her singing and he almost doubted himself again but as usual... He ceased in his struggles and allowed his ears to shift ever so slightly. Twitching as they caught the faint words, a small smile drifted onto his lips. Well, he had always thought his spiders were quiet but this voice took the biscuit.
Perhaps it was a bird?
No, not quite. He had heard the approach and it seemed somewhat bigger than a bird. He couldn't discern exactly what it was but the soft voice gave him little cause for concern. He was simply glad that the voice he had heard wasn't one of his imagination and much to his surprise, it was significantly closer to him than he had anticipated!
What had she said though?
"She asked you a question you moron!" The spider snapped, her own voice scarcely audible as she scuttled up his horn to inspect the damage and current state of affairs. If anything, this would be similar to moving a large lorry round a tight corner - they'd spent the next hour or so backing him out until he got free but heh, at least it would kill time?
"Oh, oh my..." Cyn ceased in his struggling and held still to avoid yet more reprimanding from his spider. Still unaware of her true identity he simply offered one of his token wry smiles and mulled over her words in his mind for a few moments. It wasn't that they required thought, he simply had to confirm exactly what she had asked before responding - he may have been a relaxed creature but he did like to look reasonable.
"Ah, I am quite all right," he offered at last in a somewhat bemused tone, "But please allow me to ask..." he paused for a few moments, just in time to hear the quiet tut from the spider. "How bad does it look?" he inquired, obviously in reference to his current problem.
"Bad!" the tiny spider hollered from the tree but he simply chose to ignore her in favour of trying to hear the quiet nymph near by him. Evidently the forest had changed in many ways!
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Posted: Thu Apr 24, 2008 1:46 pm
Cassiel stood at a crossroads, more than a little unsure what she was to do. Part of her could retreat and leave the ebony one to his own devices. As she approached, she saw first what seemed to be a lot of hair, and underneath was a plethora of feathers and webs tangled within even more hair. Whoever he was, for it surely was male, he had managed to get himself in to quite the predicament.
Why inflict the stallion longer than she had to? He wasn't hurt, albeit a bit tangled, so why stick around? To stay might only bother him further, upset him. To leave would give him peace and sanctuary, albeit he was still rather intimate with a tree.
Did she stay? Did she go? And most importantly dare she continue to speak?
Conscious told her she had to stay. Her inquiry had done what she had feared; it had spurred on even more conversation and questions. She wasn't going to be so rude as to ignore him, she had better manners than that, though she did feel sorry for his soul. To have to put up with her of all soquili. . . for shame.
Cautiously, step by step, the young mare began to bridge the distance between herself and Cyn. Picking her way through the underbrush, the young mare squinted so as to better see how bad the situation appeared. What she had missed in her distance made itself fast apparent - a horn, caught within the unforgiving limbs and foliage of the tree. He was quite stuck, or so it appeared, but perhaps with a little maneuvering and help he might manage to be freed. ". . . well," She began, her whispered voice a bit shy, a bit unsure. "You've managed to get yourself well caught. . . . Here. . .Forgive me for such close proximity." She whispered, and it was true. She didn't mean to have to get so near, much less reach up to attempt to push away some of the branches and leaves. Stretching her neck up, the young mare picked away what bits she could - but he himself would have to attempt to maneuver his horn out of the tangled limbs.
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Posted: Tue May 06, 2008 6:43 am
At least she was honest - it may have taken him a few seconds to hear exactly what she had said but she had spoken the truth. He was a tall beast and therefore it was evident that should he not 'watch' where he was going then such things would happen frequently. It was part of the reason why he had a spider guide that swung about on his horn and nested in the long strands of hair around his face. Unfortunately, this guide was not psychic and therefore if it were not informed of a sudden change in directions then it simply couldn't warn him.
...That might explain why he heard tuts every thirty seconds throughout the day.
Nevertheless, he remained still as the mare began to nudge at the branches and twigs around his head. Every now and again he felt a tiny smack from a branch as it swung back against her movements but he could also sense that it was becoming less claustrophobic. She was slowly but surely moving twigs away from his head, ears and mane to the point that he could feel the soft breeze against his neck again. Perhaps now he could wriggle himself free, although the sight of a stallion of his size 'wriggling' would surely be rather humorous to observe.
"You should have enough room now," the spider mused after a few moments, sliding down the silk strand to perch on his horn once more. "Thank you, Miss!" it added, waving a tiny leg in Cassiel's direction though the arachnid was unsure as to whether or not she had seen it or heard the tiny voice.
"So...?"
"Alright, do not be so impatient - you got stuck because of that!"
"Yes, I am aware of that." Cyn replied dutifully, a small and wistful smile creeping onto his lips as he heard yet another tut of exasperation. Truly, his companions were so very easy to irritate, especially at this time in the day when most were asleep. "You have my thanks for aiding me, I have to confess I am not much of a tree -"
"Pull back!" the spider demanded, cutting him short as he braced himself and began to pull. Tugging hard, the branches seemed to bend and twist, refusing to release their new found captive from their grasp. However, it was rare for Cyn to give up without a fight and thus he began to tug a little harder. With the added momentum of the jerks and tugs of his head a number of the branches did release and swing back in large arcs to their original position but for some.
Crack
"Uh oh..." The spider mused as her stable 'house' suddenly lost it's balance, stumbled backwards and landed quite firmly on it's rump. Had cameras been invented in such an age it surely would have been a kodak moment as Cyn remained seated for a short while, the ridiculous smile still lining his lips.
Clearly, he wasn't the self conscious type and wasn't particularly bothered about how others regarded him. It came with the territory; he was old, had seen it all and acting as though perfect all the time was a bit tiring. Besides, he had been asleep for years and needed to find new hobbies.
"Can we do that again?" he asked in a rather boyish tone.
"No!" snapped the spider, clambering out from her cushion in his forelock. Had she a head she would have shaken it but instead, she simply threw her tiny legs in the air and scrambled onto his horn again. "I think the little mare would agree with me too."
"Mare?"
"What, you think a raccoon helped you?"
"I thought she was a nymph!"
"You sir, are an idiot."
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Posted: Tue May 06, 2008 12:12 pm
Cassiel had noticed the spiders - sort of. After having pushed her way closer to the winged, ebony stallion she had caught sight of what appeared to be remnants of spider webs laced within his coat and hair. And she had even caught sight of a few flailing legs. . . .
Thankfully the mare wasn't arachnophobia. So intent untangling the stranger her ears missed the tiny voice that offered thanks. Had she heard though, her reaction might not have changed and she herself most probably would have given little response. As it was, Cassiel focused only on her work; the sooner she freed the captive the sooner she could shy away and continue unhindered.
She paused now and then to cast a glance over at the stallion - he was large, very large, and quite unlike anything she'd ever seen. He reminded her of Grandfather, but without the spikes and the dripping blood. He also appeared to have hair - and a lot of it! Perhaps the most disturbing sight of all was the fact he was . . . talking. He was responding to someone, to something that as far as Cassiel could tell was invisible. Was he crazy? Perhaps, perhaps - with his incessant chattering he did seem to run with the idea. What sort of soquili outside of the crazies carried on one-way conversation? Ah, but such was the way the world worked and who was she to judge? He was nothing to her but a moments temporary distraction; just another stranger, just another no one. An apparition in the life of shadow soon to be forgotten and left.
Bit by bit Cassiel worked until finally there was a sharp crack. There was a sharp smack as limbs snapped back in to place and ultimately struck her. Snorting from surprise, the mare jerked away from the tree, and after opening her eyes from the sting she found herself staring at a very strange scene - the stallion was down and looked (in her opinion) rather ridiculous. . .especially with that little smile poking out from underneath a waterfall of hair.
The crimson and white mare studied the stallion for a moment before giving her ebony locks a little shake. There were a few leaves stuck to her, but nothing that caused the slightly disheveled mare any concern. She honestly didn't give much of a damn about anything, and her appearance was one of them. It seemed the fallen stallion was the same. A long moment passed and Cassiel debated what was next to be done - he didn't seem harmed, he didn't seem hurt, and he was chattering with the unseen yet again. That was certainly a sign of wellness in his case but now what?
She had done her duty and there was no more reason to harass the stallion further. Lowering her head, she murmured her farewell. "Better luck with your next round of tress." Hopefully he'd stick more to the obvious trail instead of waging war against the thicker trees and foliage.
Turning back to the trail, she continued on her way. The sooner she left him the better; he had bad enough luck as it seemed this day. Cassiel was certain she'd only add to it.
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Posted: Thu May 08, 2008 4:45 am
He was arguably a bit mad, his view on the world was far from normal and his erratic behaviour and somewhat questionable companions led many to believe the was, for want of a better word...unhinged. He was not though, in fact he was far from clinically insane and favoured being blissfully unaware of nearly all the drama that surrounded him. He had enough of that to deal with at home and for many years he had chosen to enjoy life as opposed to wallowing in the drama that would otherwise turn all his glorious locks grey.
...Not that he wouldn't suit being white, but still.
Nevertheless, her lack of response to his companion did puzzle him somewhat. He had met openly rude soquili, over excited soquili but ultimately they had always responded in some form or another to his companion when she spoke. If it were in thanks they may not always react positively towards it but they did recognise it had been said. Thus, it was no surprise that he furrowed his brow beneath the mountain of hair upon his face and puzzled over this lack of reaction instead.
Bracing himself, Cyn at last pushed himself to his hooves. With a great heave, he thrust himself away from the ground and gave a shudder to remove the majority of the leaves from his coat. While some still remained lodged in his tail and around his feathered hooves he cared very little - soquili already assumed he was a mess but he preferred the 'rugged' and 'natural' feel he had. How many soquili could say they had met something quite so unique as him?
At this point he remained still, regaining his composure (though he would argue this was unneeded) as he considered his options. Honestly, he had very little to do and had come down the slopes to seek some conversation with the young generations of soquili. He wasn't exploring...he'd seen this all before and his companion had stated that he had been aided by a soquili so...
"She's going to freak out..." the spider seemed to read his mind.
"Maybe that will be a good thing then?" While some would have argued it was sadistic, Cyn found it difficult to cope with the softly spoken and the shy. He raised all those in his circle to be strong and confident and yet when he descended the mountains he found so many shy and uncertain creatures. It was wrong. Therefore, he often opted to get at least some form of a reaction from them...admittedly it was usually a scream but at least it would lift their voice and he could applaud them (in good humour) for deafening him.
"You are shameful."
"Thank you," Cyn replied smoothly as he picked up his pace and began to sauntered after the young mare. He would sooner not say anything as these forms of pursuit were often more successful when he didn't. When she screamed, beat him up or set a trap for him then he would talk - they always seemed to respond well to applause but ah...How little he knew of this little mare.
His companion did of course guide him dutifully despite her exasperated tone.
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Posted: Thu May 08, 2008 11:00 pm
Cassiel hadn't meant to be rude, she had merely overlooked the small voice of the spiders. In fact, the young mare often was quite unawares of her surroundings. Instinct occassionally gave her a heads up, especially when it came to beings and creatures, but for the most part she faced them all with the exact same countenance - a placid sort of misery. A twitch of an ear, a swish of a tail, and that was about all the acknowledgement a stranger might recieve. She cared not for her own safety, she thought nothing of the dangers that might lurk around her. . one creature was just the same as the other. If her approach meant her death than so be it, such was the will of the spirits and Cassiel wasn't one to defy them.
She had spent much of her foal hood looking for ways to stop the pain, the hurt, and the agonies of her parents. Her grandfather's had both disagreed with such an outlook, and though they both had opposing moral reasons for it, they had curbed her delight in defeat but only by a hair. There had been no cure but at least the young mare didn't so freely or so openly show her wounds.
She was a burden enough upon the world, upon others - heaven forbid she prolongue such exposure. Her friendships were fleat and flitting - friends didn't come easy to the young mare and probably never would. To trust was something she feared, an old wound she struggled to heal. And yet. . . perhaps Cassiel was masochistic - she was accostomed to the pain, almost enjoyed it, and she allowed thoughts to marinate in her mind of a darker side to her soul. Where was her place - to prove to Ezriel and Reaper she could be strong, she could be cruel and jaded?
Or did she follow her mother and Twilight, to walk amongst the good and shed her shell of bleak morose and pain. Neither side sounded particularly appealing. . . . But such thoughts constantly hounded the young mare, step by step, twisting and confusing her spirit.
Her intervention with Cyn and his tree had already been pushed to the wayside. In fact, she hardly took sight of the shadow that drifted silentlyin her wake. It was only by chance, an itch at her side, that she caught sight of the winged one. Her ebony gaze settled upon his drifting form as if it were something new, looking upon him as if he were a stray leaf or a gentle breeze. But such was the only reaction he recieved. . .
If it surprised her that he was seemingly following her, drifting after like a midnight wraith, it caused her little alarm. Should he strike her, should he attempt to maim her with his horn or hooves, so be it. With just as little ceremony she turned back to her walk and continued forward. Let him strike if he so wished, or let him continue to follow. He would soon grow weary of his companion and find something more alluring, something much more worthwhile than a silly little mare. . .
There would be no worry, no fright, no fear from Cassiel. But there would be no curiousity or good-natured greeting either. He was there. She was there. The world was there. In all honesty, she just didn't give a damn.
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Posted: Fri May 09, 2008 12:08 pm
So it wasn't working and she defied all types of convention. She was like his son in that regard, granted she wasn't identical to him but there were certain aspects of him that made him unique as well. Cyn had been wrong to jump to conclusions in relation to the mare who he still suspected to be a hidden nymphs - perhaps one in disguise. He often suspected creatures of odd characteristics and had good reason to justify them but more often than not these suspicions remained lodged firmly in his mind and were rarely voiced to the public.
Therefore, as she shifted her weight and paused only briefly before continuing on, he used the opportunity to extend his stride and released a soft sigh through his equine lips. A small sniff from his nostrils and he continued to trail after the mare's scent while he considered his next move. He was no mind reader and thus he was unaware of the emptiness that lay beneath what he would have described as a very beautiful shell if he could have seen it.
Well...she wasn't empty, but she was more of a...
He mulled over the entity that lay before him and pondered exactly what such an aloof being could be. Had he time to get to know her further he would have viewed her as a porcelain doll (if he'd known what porcelain was). So beautiful and yet the slightest impact would completely shatter the delicate outer shell - no measure of glue would seal the cracks perfectly...or maybe she had already been cracked.
It was a sorry state of affairs all in all and he would have been compelled to see just one smile, if he had known.
Unfortunately he didn't and his comical behaviour seemed to fall on deaf ears and blind eyes. Flicking his tail idly against his flank, it was after quite a number of minutes that he finally released another sigh and opted for a slightly less conventional approach. Just to hear her speak again, to reconfirm his suspicions that she wasn't quite what his spider guide said.
"You are not a true soquili, are you?" His voice was strong, rich in tone and carried with ease across the otherwise tranquil forest. Anyone would have been hard pressed to not hear it as was carried across the open air. "You are something else..."
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Posted: Fri May 09, 2008 10:23 pm
Two crimson ears twisted as a voice carried through the woods, reverberating like power unleashed and shattering what had been a serene silence. The mare didn't falter in her slow paced walk, and one might have questioned whether or not Cassiel had heard. Though Cyn harbored a mighty voice, the young mare he shadowed might truly have been deaf. Ah, but such was not the case.
Though she was dead of spirit, she was perfectly functional in almost every other way. For a long moment a dead silence followed the ebony stallions words. Would he leave if she did not answer? Maybe. But answering wasn't her biggest concern - at the moment her thoughts had broken away from her typical woe. . . Now she turned his comment around in her mind, allowing it to marinate within her head, mulling, contemplating.
She? A true soquili? What on earth did that mean? With each breath the mare took account of her physical exterior - four hooves, check. A tail, check. Two eyes, two nostril, a mane, and fur. Check, check, check and check. Everything she could discern about herself screamed soquili but apparently there was something she was missing. A heart? No, she had one of those, or did . . . . If it's fragments could be placed back together perhaps that would make her more true. Or was it her spirit, her soul, mutilted, deformed and malnourished. This winged one couldn't see that deep in her to tell . . . . could he?
Finally the young mare paused in her walk. With a lowered head, she slowly turned so as to better face this polluted apparition behind her, ebony gaze searching through his locks of hair to guess where his own orbs might reside. No emotion, no hurt, no offense. . . just her voice, soft, perhaps delicate, the eternal whisper that would never change.
". . . . what might you define me as, sir? . . . . . I beg of you to tell me what you see." And it was truth. A sudden desperation seized the mare as she took his words to heart. If she was no soquili, and most of her believed it to be truth as she was but a plague on society, perhaps Cyn might see her for what she was. If he could give her definition perhaps then she'd better figure out her path, see where she needed to be, where she needed to go. . . .
Perhaps this stranger would place her back on a trail, would give her what she needed, what she lacked.
Direction.
((Sorry for the brevity! *thinks her brain might be sleeeepy*))
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Posted: Thu May 22, 2008 1:49 pm
"I see nothing," Cyn replied softly, it was a deliberate response and not directed at what she was. Rather, it was aimed at the words she had chosen to use and the fact that 'vision' and 'sight' were not something that this soquili had in leaps and bounds. All he saw was darkness and he preferred it this way - it was only on rare occasions that he requested the veil might be lifted so that he may be blessed with the beauty that lay before him.
Such a thing would not be requested today, while he was sure the soft voice was that of a rare beauty he would only grant himself permission to see those who wanted him to see. Up until that point he would remain completely oblivious to the exotic qualities they might have possessed - unaware to the visions of beauty that many a stallion would kill for.
...It was his choice and it worked.
Nevertheless, casting aside her poor choice of words he considered her question more carefully and in hindsight had to admit that it hadn't really thought his words through when he had said them. The majority of soquili would have argued with him, would have defended themselves and thrust fanciful images and claims towards him but once again...She had completely defied all forms of stereotype.
So what was she?
"You are the unborn," he replied at last, his head lifting somewhat as though he was fixing an unseen gaze upon this mare. This movement was largely inaccurate given his own height and the slight nature of the mare before him...the overall result would have been to look over her head. Hopefully, she would excuse such a movement given his lack of awareness in that department.
"You are a blank stone, a piece of leather that has yet to be brought to life through the arts," by this he brought reference to humankind and their habit of painting everything. They celebrated beauty and through the arts, through song and careful craftsmanship they transformed something so plain into something spectacular.
Unfortunately he had no proof to support his words and merely relied upon assumption and stereotyping to draw his conclusions. She was so softly spoken and no doubt she would prove him wrong again but he had already demonstrated the level of his stupidity in the last few minutes - really, it would be no surprise if he was incorrect.
It was worth a shot though!
"A creature of great beauty as is the potential of all those who have yet to blossom..."
He paused at this point and shifted his weight, shaking a number of leaves from his furry hooves.
"Either that or you are a nymph," he mused in retaliation for his spider companion's remarks regarding his intelligence or lack thereof.
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Posted: Thu May 22, 2008 5:51 pm
Cyn hit the nail on the head.
Though he spoke not of her, merely his own choice to allow his gaze to be veiled and to pass judgment only by what he heard and what the understood, Cassiel did not view it as such. To her, his words rang true in her ears, reverberated against her brain, and echoed upon her hollow spirit ; a song that she understod all too well but had yet to put it so simply. While Cyn spoke of one thing, ironically enough his response went hand in hand with how Cassiel viewed herself and therefor the mare took it as such. Those words had been meant for her.
Nothing.
There was truth to his words, his response. It showed up clearly and faced her as if she were gazing at her reflection. He saw nothing because she was nothing, or atl east that's how she felt. A grown mare and what had she accomplished? A grown mare and she had no ties to her family - she rejected her mother, she pushed aside Twilight and Cosette's love. She had lost her father, her brother, and that broken side of her family and had abandoned her foal hood friends. Her soul was not beautiful, her spirit was lacking, and even death avoided her. . . .
A shame really. A shame that she lived such a wasted life, and yet it was a shame that the spirits continued to let her rot.
Cyn saw nothing because there was, in truth, nothing to look at, nothing to see, and no one worth getting to know. It wasn't her being dramatic about it but it was truth - she spent so much time trying to define her life, her purpose, some sort of reason to wake up in the morning and move that she missed out on everything. The darkness that whispered to her held complete control and the mare within was veiled, locked, and had no more strength to fight.
The battle raged but Cassiel understood her place. She had lost. . . she had failed. And there was no escape.
For the first time in her life, someone had finally told her exactly what she had needed to hear. That she truly, honestly was nothing. A husk, a shell, there was a hurt to her heart that seemed to reject such a notion. . . It was small, it was minute, but the girl that had been shadowed and neglected found a new sort of pain in such honesty.
Maybe there was hope for Cassiel yet but it wasn't enough to cause the mare to object. Lowering her head, casting her ebony gaze down she stared at the feet of the furred creature before her. He was right, in all sense of the word. There was nothing more for him to see. . . .
"There is no beauty here, sir, lest your shadowed gaze deceives." Her whispered words were faint but truthful, sincere. She wasn't fishing for a compliment - hardly - but she didn't want the stallion to think something that wasn't. Her ebony tail gave a minute flick and the mare gave a small sigh. ". . art . . . unblossomed . . . potential. . . " The mare recited his answer, playing with the words upon her tongue as she tried to absorb his train of thought. Truly, he was only being kind. Cassiel understood the truth better than most. . . and this is what she know:
What potential?
Oh, the mare had tried now and then to fight. It was a pitiful attempt. . . She had tried to embrace the dark but it rejected her. She had tried to be a happy, silly filly as a girl and that too had fallen to pieces. Nothing seemed to go right with her life and thus the mare had grown up convoluted and broken. A heart couldn't break when it wasn't even whole to begin and Cassiel had seemingly started out shattered. She didn't harbor epic beauty like the stallion before her or most other mares; she was strange, she was hurt, she was depressing. She could never speak above a whisper, she couldn't dance, didn't often dare sing, and was seemingly a useless tool. The pain of her young life had scarred and hardened and the scab of her soul wouldn't easily, or painlessly, be removed.
So to hear such compliments, if one could consider them as such, was amazing to the mare. And yet she understood that he was only being nice.
Dark eyes peeked up at Cyn as he made his final observation. A nymph? she might have laughed, in fact such a serious manner caused something to tickle in her soul. He was kidding. . . right? But he seemed so serious about it. The ebony winged male was an odd duck, for being some sort of soquili, but his innocent comment reminded Cassiel of smaller things. Of slight normalcies that she often overlooked or forgot. . . .
Something simple like laughter. Humor. That had long been lacking in her life and the mare almost allowed herself to smirk. But it was gone just as swiftly as it had wanted to arrive and she made no gesture other than a slight shrug. Strangely enough, she didn't bother to correct his guess. She was no nymph but if the stallion was foolish enough to believe as much who was she to disappoint?
She did that enough anyway without being obvious about it. If only it were so easy to become something or someone else. . . perhaps a nymph would suit her better. She didn't exactly make a charming soquili.
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Posted: Tue May 27, 2008 1:25 pm
Charm...
Well that word alone was one he would have disputed. Charm and it's definition varied depending on species, race and gender - there was no definitive or agreed translation for such a term and thus...had Cyn known she had deemed herself to lack charm then he would have disagreed. This was indeed one of those moments when he wished hand on heart that he had unclouded eyes once again.
But that in itself would have been a blessing and a curse.
Had his eyes been unclouded and had he been granted the opportunity to see the turmoil and torture rippling beneath those dark eyes then he would, in an instant, have taken every word of it back. She was a vision of beauty, a dark and timid one but the beauty was there - physically at least and if he had wanted to confirm this then no doubt the spider upon his horn would have done so. However, beauty was truly in the eyes of the beholder and her words...
He shook his head slowly, his ears flicking and twitching to catch such faint whispers. Again he paused in an attempt to discern the words creeping from the depths of her mouth and then came the softest of sighs. It wasn't a sigh of weariness, so much as a sigh of empathy - he had heard all this self hatred and destructive behaviour before. He had lived through it and even his son in some warped and sadistic way had endured a similar torture...it was strange how such souls became intertwined in such a delicate and very fragile way.
No, it was confirmed in those timid words that she was no playful or distraught nymph, she was most definitely a soquili and one who had wandered a path that would be impossible for him to imagine. After all, it was a well known fact that those of a dark soul wandered their own paths and encountered their own demons - it was their choice to bow to them or to defeat them...if they saw light at the end then so be it.
"I would often argue that I see with eyes that are unclouded," Cyn replied softly, his great hooves thrusting through the foliage as he picked his way towards the mare without direction from the arachnid swinging atop his horn. It was at this time that he chose to use his own heightened senses, it wasn't appropriate to talk to a voice that no one else could hear at this precise moment in time. "After all, I cannot see you...all I can discern is your voice and an estimate of your height and health."
He paused here, ensuring he kept some distance between himself and the mare although he could already detect the heat radiating off the female nearby. The heat, it's proximity and its reach further confirmed her to be a soquili, just as his arachnid had observed earlier.
This was no nymph.
"Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, the world is perceived in many different ways," ah, he sounded like his old self again. No longer the wistful gentleman he had reverted to the authoritative creature he had been known for when he was younger. "What some deem to be beauty, others see as ugly - while some see potential, others see something that has already failed."
"Ultimately, it depends entirely on who you meet and what you meet," he mulled over his words for a few moments before clearing his throat and lowering his head to nudge at the leaves on his furry hooves. He almost seemed to be granting time for his words to settle before he gave his body a shudder and straightened - oddly, the glistening webs didn't budge an inch. Had those of the Grove been present they would have argued that they were as timeless as he was.
"Though I cannot see your form, there is no doubt in my mind that you are beautiful." Cyn was never one to mollycoddle, he was blunt and found little benefit in stringing creatures along. Lulling creatures into false senses of security was to be left to the battlefield, it was simply another cruel form of torture and games to be used elsewhere. "Even if you cannot see it, M'lady mare."
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Posted: Wed May 28, 2008 11:47 pm
Cassiel listened politely to the stallion before her. The massive, winged creature was much older than she and seemed to have some sort of knowledge about the world. Though she was unsure how to respond to his words, how best to place herself behind her barriers and shields. He knew some things, surely, but Cassiel still couldn't believe. . . .
Silent, as was her most typical stance, the black maned mare unconciously tensed her body as Cyn approached. With every furry step, a growing panic began to blossom within her soul and a familiar anxiety warred in her heart. She wasn't afraid of Cyn or others. . . not directly at any rate. But she wasn't exactly the best when it came to social scenarios. The closer he came meant the longer he imprinted her life - his words even seemed to echo the fear that began to overwhelm her.
It depends entirely on who and what you meet he said. . .
Well, she was now meeting him after her many, mostly foul meetings with strangers the young mare didn't dare risk the effects of another. Certainly not all of her meetings were bad, but as a young and easily impressionable filly her scars had been burnt deep. When the pillars of ones foundation crumbled and fell at such a tender age, it wasn't easy learning how to walk with broken and bruised bones.
But she had done her best, surprisingly enough, and here she stood - a convoluted individual, certainly, but at least she still had life. For better, for worse.
The silence continued to stretch, her breath steady but soft, the only music in the moments confusion. Her mind tried to wrap around his words, tried to find the weak spots and rip them to shred. What was this stallions angle? Was he always so god damned positive? Was he always so full of advice? And what was she to make of it?
Her, beautiful? No . . . . He spoke charms like many a stallion did for a lady. He said what needed to be said, what he thought she might very well want to hear. Such games might work on some mares but Cassiel wasn't one of them. He spoke of beauty and yet what did he know of her? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
He didn't know the darkness that whispered to her, he didn't know how shaky the ground she stood upon was, how close to the edge she was of loosing it. He didn't understand te paths she walked, and though tame in comparison to the lives of many, the pains she had felt had shattered her sirit, her heart and perhaps a sliver of her mind.
Damaged.
There was little good that came from the ebony eyed mare and she knew it. Even now, as they spoke, she felt guilt paint her spirit white with anxiety. Here she was arguing with a stranger over what? Looks? Beauty? If it truly was in the eye of the beholder it would make sense that a soquili who couldn't see past his thick mane of hair would see her as beautiful.
No.
That truly wasn't her. Furthermore, it felt like cruel and unusual punishment for Cyn to be subjected to her nature. Already she felt as if she were wearing him out, upsetting him, and she could easily imagine his regret. . . . Such was just the way of things, wasn't it?
Like oil on water, the words of the stranger slid easily off. Dipping her head, pawing a moment at the ground, the mare found her voice. There was no reason to stay, no reason to argue, yell, fight. She hardly knew what to say much less felt inclined to further oblige the stallion with small talk.
She wasn't worth the effort, honestly, and the sooner they parted ways the sooner he could resume his life anew. She'd wear him out sooner or later, cause him to lose his temper, lose his interest, lose any curiosity or desire for conversation. That too was just something she was good at. . . .
"You're far too generous and kind to say such things." And he was. Even if he meant them not, even if he was being polite such graces weren't often offered the mare. To her a compliment, no matter how insincere and no matter how hard she ripped it to shreds, still was flattering and much too kind for the likes of her.
Thus, she had to be away. Whoever this winged one was, with his patient advice and cordiality and silver tongued compliments. . . well. . . . he was an untouchable prince, as the majority of the world was. And Cassiel was not one to taint such a thing.
"But forgive me, sir, for eating up so much of your day with idle banter." There. Now he had a grand opening to thank her and retreat. . . he could go his way, she could continue down her path and life would forever move on.
The end.
Or such would be should the young mare have her way.
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