Fire and Water, Sparks of Confusion {Self RP}
Posted: Sat May 14, 2011 10:13 am
He had quite literally taken over. They all knew it, just as they all knew that things had been rocky in the beginning. Thankfully, there was someone with more influence than him to help smooth out such trouble.
He hadn't been grateful at the time, although now it was nearly impossible to say what he had been.
Flint was a leader, to put things simply. To put it in more civil terms, he was a stallion with a strong personality. If he was merely keeping to his own blunt thoughts, it was a simple matter of his name fitting him; it didn't take much for sparks to fly.
He had to stay in control because of that simple fact alone. It was all too easy for a few sparks of irritation to ignite a raging inferno. But when he had first made the transition to where he was now, he wasn't in control at all. He'd been lost and confused, and like any good leader had pushed back his own fears and uncertainties. His problems had started when the pain and fear had morphed into rage.
It had required a stronger leader than himself to force him to deal with his own issues before attempting to oversee anyone else. His old friend had quietly forced him to step down and his new bonded had stubbornly kept on his hide about processing his troubles. They'd been insistent without applying enough pressure to be forceful; only a few sparks had gone up in the process.
Now he stood at the edge of the vale, the very picture of collected smoothness. The others milling before him reminded him, in the vaguest of ways, of his new homeland, the multi-hued desert he had grown to love. There was something about seeing everyone gathered that made him think of the prismatic sand and shimmering oasis.
"We're different while gathered."
It was as close as he would come to a sentimental statement. He had a talent with words, yet his instincts held him back. He only showed strength, always keeping tight reigns on his self control.
"'Tis a fitting observation. We mustn't lose who we are as one amongst our own separate selves. There ist a vast difference between thy two entities, we as we are and we as one."
Flint nodded slightly, a small sign of appreciation for the golden mare's words. He didn't so much as glance at her, however; he didn't need to.
Path was also a strong personality, although her foal had softened her towards others to some extent. If Flint had taken over the role of strongest in their group, one who was most reliable and likely to be turned to as a leader, she was the one he had taken over for.
If anyone was to ask they both would have admitted an appreciation for this shift in power. Path had not merely stepped down and allowed this new stallion to take up the role as strongest in their group; she had made certain that he was a good and worthy replacement. And Flint had been able to recognize this for what it was, the mark of a good leader. He was a more forceful personality, but in regards to ability they were evenly matched.
Now, the golden mare found herself in place of what might be called the second oldest sibling, although she was much younger than some of the others. With their ranking system, however, true age mattered not at all, only the age of the heart and soul. She was no longer seen as the 'oldest,' but she was a close second.
It had taken time for her to learn this lesson, providing her own rough start to this life. When she first arrived it had been to find only one other and while he had been much older than she, she was a stronger personality and had been put into the role of older sister. It had angered and confused her at the time. Similar to Flint, she reacted to uncertainty with aggression.
Her son, however, was quite the surprise. Darroch was down in the vale with the others, entertaining them with a play performed entirely by plants. He found it marvelously entertaining watching their reactions as well as he made them 'sing' by vibrating different leaves as they gallivanted hither and yon.
He was a much more sociable serian and while still quite young had firmly marked himself as being just under his mother in terms of strong personalities. It would come as a surprise to any who didn't know him closely; he was so friendly that few ever thought anything of looking to him to take charge when needed. This natural reaction was rarely noticed because of his low-key demeanor, quite unlike the intense strength radiated by Flint and his mother.
The young green stallion also had the ability to be more than happy to recognize someone who was better qualified or just had more of a presence to them. And yet like his mother, he was rather particular about needing to be sure that anyone who would hold sway over him knew how to handle things.
Hybrid was thoroughly enjoying the youngling's show, his own scaled hide placing just underneath his fellow green companion. He and Flint had arrived together, yet much like Darroch Hybrid was a much gentler presence. He wasn't as picky as the younger male about who he would back down to and had been known to be perfectly content to spend extended amounts of time in the sizzling solitude of storms.
He had spent almost every moment in that exact manner when he had first arrived, slowly allowing things to settle within him from the upset of joining these others. He was able to master himself well enough to know when the storms within were turbulent and dangerous, and if asked he was willing to help out others. He did not, however, actively seek to offer.
"How do you keep them alive while they waltz back and forth?"
"I shift the dirt instead of pulling the roots. This be my favorite part, where the orchid gives the tiger lily the bad news."
Frolic smiled along with him as he had raised the pitch and had the tiger lily swoon in despair. It really was a good show, regardless of the medium, and she enjoyed his new talent of creating music with plant vibrations. Sometimes she almost thought she could hear words.
She was another green one, like Darroch and Hybrid, and found herself being just beneath Hybrid in rank of 'older sibling.' She was strong and always would be, yet she had only recently recovered from her own ordeal of joining these others around her. She had felt quite weakened when she first became a part of this family, mainly by the destruction of her own blood family.
With time, care and good friends she had grown stronger, learned to find herself outside of her foals and mate. It had been so long that she had honestly forgotten who she was in her own right; to say she had been shell-shocked would be a massive understatement.
Her methods were vastly different from the ones the 'oldest siblings' used, although she still proved to be a strong, comforting presence when approached for leadership and guidance. She never fully took over, choosing instead to merely influence. By her thinking, if one wished to follow her they would, and if not she would tell them what she saw to be their best choice for the course they had decided upon.
She hadn't always been so mellow; before, in what she thought of as her 'previous life,' she had been both fiercely exuberant and savagely strong. To some extent the ability to be forcefully intense still remained within her, yet she rarely chose to utilize it any more. Life had taught her the hard way that some things simply had to be learned through experience and pain; what others did would be their own choice in the end.
When she first joined she had been scrambling to pull herself together again, refusing to let go of her old strength. She was shattered, terrified and confused, but she refused to give up. Now she found herself sound enough that she had no need for such boisterous strength; she was confident in her own power and that was enough.
Sounds had recently begun to fascinate her, as she settled into a state of inner quiet. The sounds of this performance was one example, and others were the underrated sounds of the rain forest or of voices in general. She had visited everyone's personal homelands for the simple task of soaking in the sounds to be offered: the shift of sands in Flint's multi-hued desert; the swish of grasses in Path's wide, golden field; the stream that bubbled across Darroch's sparsely treed prairie; the fierce crash and spark of the storm that forever floated in full force on the ground of Hybrid's valley.
And their voices especially interested her. Her own rustled in a low, rich melody, producing a sound as involved as that of dripping leaves brushing together. Hybrid's, however, was rough and sounded more like a growl or a sizzling crack of lightning than anything, although they were of the same alter. Path spoke in a deeply melodious baritone, and her son in a low, rich voice that lilted softly with a hint of his mother's old world speech. And Flint's voice was always smooth and warm, the very sound of swirling sand or caressing flames.
She caught herself humming with the music of the plants during Darroch's play and couldn't help but smile to herself. He had the 'actors' fleeing through their legs, a desperate chase where lover pursued lover as the villain followed close behind.
"You think of the music yourself as you learn what each vibration does on different leaves?"
"Leaves and other parts of the plant. Moving them for the play affects the sounds they make; 'tis quite an interesting experiment."
He smiled as he spoke, his gaze flickering up for barely a moment as Sparkle nickered in amusement. The tiger lily was making a show of cowering behind one of his rich indigo legs, a small touch that earned a wide smile.
Although he was one of the oldest among the group, he placed under Frolic in regards to the order of 'siblings.' He was warm and playful, forever young, although he had grown exponentially over the years.
The first to bond and stake his claim on what would be his homeland, his voice was bright and bubbly in spite of his age. He had suffered through Path's anger and frustration when she came and found herself to be more mature and of an older sibling status in spite of his advanced years, and had suffered his own phase of panic and pain as he settled in this new home from another. And still, he chased the sparkling pixie light through his dappled, sunny woodland home and nickered as the leaves vibrated against his hock.
He thought of his mate, his life-partner as the orchid swung a wide arc and attempted to cut off his fleeing love interest. How many times had they themselves raced and chased and loved over time? So many, and every moment wonderful. It warmed him from the inside to consider her, to consider the strength she had shown when he finally grew from the fumbling, confused mass of indigo male into a true stallion, one who was bright and friendly without the need to remain an eternal foal.
It saddened him, as well. He was warm and confident in their bond and knew that, whenever they should see each other such time as they would get would be enough. They were the leads in their own circle, had been mates for years, and what's more it did not scare him to be away from his beloved. And yet he knew others here were not so lucky.
"A dance, a game, a chase! My boy you do a fine job of depicting love itself."
"You would be the one to know, Firefly."
Sparkle snorted, smiling as he always did when referred to by his nickname. They all had one: he was Firefly, for the dancing sparks along his hide and his own habit of chasing the flickering little lights; Frolic was called Tiger Lily, as she always had the sweet, wet smell of lush rain forests; Hybrid was known as the Soldier, for his outer quiet, inner steel and love of dangerous lands to travel though; Darroch was commonly referred to as Green Horn, a double pun on both his elemental abilities and his youth; Path was called the SunDancer; and Flint was most frequently addressed as Sarge. Proper names held power and importance, and more than that these nicknames were their own secret calling cards. They were known amongst the group and to few, if any, others.
As the play continued Sparkle couldn't help but consider how much meaning something so small could hold, be it flowers dashing about or a simple cherished nickname. When the two plants leaped into the air, jumping off the trunk of a nearby tree in a miniature explosion of dirt, he caught himself locking eyes with Tribe; and realized she was holding similar thoughts.
She was just under him in sibling ranking, one of the group that would only step up and take charge if there was no other choice. Her main interest was the sea; and more importantly, it was traveling. She was known as their Gypsy, the wandering and exotic mare that was never long rooted. And yet everyone knew how lonely her sea-faring voyages could make her. She was desperate for companionship, something that Sparkle suspected might stem from the remarkable ease she had accepted settling into her new homeland. Like so many others this was not her first and the transition is always a hard one; yet the Gypsy girl seemed to be the exception to the rule. She had explored her new home and then began her travels, wandering for days or weeks and returning long enough to rest and trade tales.
She wanted, more than anything, to know what these little flowers in the play were showing her. To have someone follow her, to accompany her on her wandering journeys, to give her a light heart and a merry laugh as they stood by her through whatever came. She and Hybrid had compacted a deal between them, both of them agreeing to provide companionship for the other to ease the ache. It would only last until one of them found a real partner, but for the moment it worked.
Hybrid had taken a fancy towards someone, but only time would tell what may come of that. Flint had been eying someone as well for a little while, although unlike Hybrid he seemed to have forgotten the potential love after some time without her. Tribe herself was hopeful towards three different stallions; she wanted to know them better, to learn who, if any, might be a good traveling companion.
It made her head hurt to consider it; she was actively interested in each of them, for different reasons. There was one thing she knew for certain, however: Tribe was going to take her time in choosing. She had seen the long, hard, lonely nights that both Path and Sign had suffered through, not only because of missing mates but also because of their foals. For Path, her son was nearly full grown and had as of yet to even see his father. For Sign, she had given her son up to let him travel with his father. It hurt Tribe's heart to see the way these mares would eye the horizon, and she refused to join them.
"Oh, sugar, I do hope he catches her. Just what would the orchid do without his little tiger lily?"
Darroch had to smile at the notion. Tribe had a strange voice for a water wanderer and he simply loved to hear her talk. She had a soft drawl, a gentle twang, a slight lilt that was as sweet as peaches and pure as home made cream. It really was adorable, and for Tribe absolutely everyone was 'sugar.'
"You'll simply have to watch! Yet it hath never been known to be quite so simple as that."
"Don't tease the wee lass now, boyo, it be your own play!"
Everyone looked up with at least a hint of a smirk as Breeze spoke up, gently teasing Darroch and helping to smooth the small frown of worry that had begun to form on Tribe's face as she became entranced with the dancing blossoms. They had gone hither and yon, here and gone, chasing and embracing, loving and arguing. Just when they thought it would be a happy ending, something would happen; and it was impossible to tell just what that something might be until it had already occurred. They all kept milling around, shifting to keep a good view of what happened, or else to reshape the 'stage' area.
Breeze was the lowest stallion in the list of sibling ranking, though he was certainly one of the older ones. Like many of the others, he came here from another place and had had a time of transition. Being of Arctic Winds his time was spent flittering away, isolating himself in the high peaks and mountains of his new homeland. When he had finally shown himself to the others, his wings caked in cracking layers of sleet from his latest daredevil maneuvering through the mountain skies, it had been to reveal a severe love for wind chimes, a hilarious talent with accents, and a bouncy little brother eagerness that earned him the nickname of Horsefeathers.
It was almost impossible to tell what his own voice was like, and yet everyone in the group knew how much he admired another green stallion known to all of them as Sham. Whenever Breeze felt particularly good or playful he would take on that springy accent, mimicking it with the same expertise as the wind can mimic crying. His true voice was only known to come into play when he was beyond happy and into the realm of fully relaxed and internally calm; so on a very rare occurrence. When it did happen, however, his voice proved to be a low, soothing hum, with a tinkling accent on certain vowels not unlike the wind chimes he so adores.
He had been considered by Tribe for a brief period as a potential suitor; or potential target, as the case may be. The problem was that, while he wasn't against the idea of being with someone, he wasn't ready to be serious about it yet. Breeze wasn't even actively looking; the closest he had come to that was developing an appreciation for mares with wings, and a constant fondness for anyone who could keep up with him in the skies.
He had never even suspected Tribe's interest.
"It starts out as his play, Horsefeathers, but the story can take on a life of it's own. Who's to say the tiger lily won't fall for the ivy shoot? It's been right terrible to poor orchid, yet there's obsessive determination in regards to winning the tiger lily."
"It's only gone after her while orchid's been around, though. I think it's more about competing for tiger lily and defeating orchid than it is about actually winning the lily."
"And after all she and orchid have been through, sugar, it just wouldn't be right. He took her back after the trouble with the frog at the log after all, sug!"
Sign smiled and absently shook out her mane, giving Darroch a subtle wink as she got the others talking about his play. The plants were changing hues according to the mood of what was happening, something that she found particularly appealing. Her trouble came from trying to split her mind between the dancing flowers and Hybrid's rippling scales.
Both Darroch and Hybrid were elementals, and both had managed to grasp their element on a severely minute scale, as well as the grander one. Darroch could mess with the chemicals in the plants, gleaning different reactions as he manipulated them and reshaped the land; the way that he currently found to be the most amusing was by altering their colors. Hybrid had discovered that lightning existed within living creatures in the form of unfathomably small electric shocks that carried information throughout the body; he was currently thrilling in using the alteration of these little signals to shift his own appearance.
The main reason she found these to be so interesting is that in the few occasions she had wandered from her little sea and visited the great oceans, she had seen other creatures that seemed to be able to do such tricks naturally. One, she knew, was called an octopus.
Smiling to herself, she stashed the little bit of knowledge away in the back of her mind, as she so often did in the hopes of sharing it with her mate or son one day. They, like Tribe, were wanderers; Sign was content to stay in the safety of her sea. She had wandered in the ocean while she was little and had scar marks on her backside as a permanent reminder of what could go wrong if you traded safety for curiosity.
Besides, the great oceans were far too wild for her. She was known as the Siren, and for good reason; her quiet, rippling voice was outstandingly soothing and melodious, and instantly drowned out by the roar of forceful waters. Outside her sheltered home, she quite frequently had difficulty communicating.
Oh! Oh, look, the orchid's standing up to the ivy now. No more running away!"
"And just in time. I see Path and Flint working their way closer; it's about time for the gathering to begin."
-------------
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Flint
Path
Nova
Darroch
Hybrid
Frolic
Sparkle
Tribe
Breeze
Sign
Shiro
He hadn't been grateful at the time, although now it was nearly impossible to say what he had been.
Flint was a leader, to put things simply. To put it in more civil terms, he was a stallion with a strong personality. If he was merely keeping to his own blunt thoughts, it was a simple matter of his name fitting him; it didn't take much for sparks to fly.
He had to stay in control because of that simple fact alone. It was all too easy for a few sparks of irritation to ignite a raging inferno. But when he had first made the transition to where he was now, he wasn't in control at all. He'd been lost and confused, and like any good leader had pushed back his own fears and uncertainties. His problems had started when the pain and fear had morphed into rage.
It had required a stronger leader than himself to force him to deal with his own issues before attempting to oversee anyone else. His old friend had quietly forced him to step down and his new bonded had stubbornly kept on his hide about processing his troubles. They'd been insistent without applying enough pressure to be forceful; only a few sparks had gone up in the process.
Now he stood at the edge of the vale, the very picture of collected smoothness. The others milling before him reminded him, in the vaguest of ways, of his new homeland, the multi-hued desert he had grown to love. There was something about seeing everyone gathered that made him think of the prismatic sand and shimmering oasis.
"We're different while gathered."
It was as close as he would come to a sentimental statement. He had a talent with words, yet his instincts held him back. He only showed strength, always keeping tight reigns on his self control.
"'Tis a fitting observation. We mustn't lose who we are as one amongst our own separate selves. There ist a vast difference between thy two entities, we as we are and we as one."
Flint nodded slightly, a small sign of appreciation for the golden mare's words. He didn't so much as glance at her, however; he didn't need to.
Path was also a strong personality, although her foal had softened her towards others to some extent. If Flint had taken over the role of strongest in their group, one who was most reliable and likely to be turned to as a leader, she was the one he had taken over for.
If anyone was to ask they both would have admitted an appreciation for this shift in power. Path had not merely stepped down and allowed this new stallion to take up the role as strongest in their group; she had made certain that he was a good and worthy replacement. And Flint had been able to recognize this for what it was, the mark of a good leader. He was a more forceful personality, but in regards to ability they were evenly matched.
Now, the golden mare found herself in place of what might be called the second oldest sibling, although she was much younger than some of the others. With their ranking system, however, true age mattered not at all, only the age of the heart and soul. She was no longer seen as the 'oldest,' but she was a close second.
It had taken time for her to learn this lesson, providing her own rough start to this life. When she first arrived it had been to find only one other and while he had been much older than she, she was a stronger personality and had been put into the role of older sister. It had angered and confused her at the time. Similar to Flint, she reacted to uncertainty with aggression.
Her son, however, was quite the surprise. Darroch was down in the vale with the others, entertaining them with a play performed entirely by plants. He found it marvelously entertaining watching their reactions as well as he made them 'sing' by vibrating different leaves as they gallivanted hither and yon.
He was a much more sociable serian and while still quite young had firmly marked himself as being just under his mother in terms of strong personalities. It would come as a surprise to any who didn't know him closely; he was so friendly that few ever thought anything of looking to him to take charge when needed. This natural reaction was rarely noticed because of his low-key demeanor, quite unlike the intense strength radiated by Flint and his mother.
The young green stallion also had the ability to be more than happy to recognize someone who was better qualified or just had more of a presence to them. And yet like his mother, he was rather particular about needing to be sure that anyone who would hold sway over him knew how to handle things.
Hybrid was thoroughly enjoying the youngling's show, his own scaled hide placing just underneath his fellow green companion. He and Flint had arrived together, yet much like Darroch Hybrid was a much gentler presence. He wasn't as picky as the younger male about who he would back down to and had been known to be perfectly content to spend extended amounts of time in the sizzling solitude of storms.
He had spent almost every moment in that exact manner when he had first arrived, slowly allowing things to settle within him from the upset of joining these others. He was able to master himself well enough to know when the storms within were turbulent and dangerous, and if asked he was willing to help out others. He did not, however, actively seek to offer.
"How do you keep them alive while they waltz back and forth?"
"I shift the dirt instead of pulling the roots. This be my favorite part, where the orchid gives the tiger lily the bad news."
Frolic smiled along with him as he had raised the pitch and had the tiger lily swoon in despair. It really was a good show, regardless of the medium, and she enjoyed his new talent of creating music with plant vibrations. Sometimes she almost thought she could hear words.
She was another green one, like Darroch and Hybrid, and found herself being just beneath Hybrid in rank of 'older sibling.' She was strong and always would be, yet she had only recently recovered from her own ordeal of joining these others around her. She had felt quite weakened when she first became a part of this family, mainly by the destruction of her own blood family.
With time, care and good friends she had grown stronger, learned to find herself outside of her foals and mate. It had been so long that she had honestly forgotten who she was in her own right; to say she had been shell-shocked would be a massive understatement.
Her methods were vastly different from the ones the 'oldest siblings' used, although she still proved to be a strong, comforting presence when approached for leadership and guidance. She never fully took over, choosing instead to merely influence. By her thinking, if one wished to follow her they would, and if not she would tell them what she saw to be their best choice for the course they had decided upon.
She hadn't always been so mellow; before, in what she thought of as her 'previous life,' she had been both fiercely exuberant and savagely strong. To some extent the ability to be forcefully intense still remained within her, yet she rarely chose to utilize it any more. Life had taught her the hard way that some things simply had to be learned through experience and pain; what others did would be their own choice in the end.
When she first joined she had been scrambling to pull herself together again, refusing to let go of her old strength. She was shattered, terrified and confused, but she refused to give up. Now she found herself sound enough that she had no need for such boisterous strength; she was confident in her own power and that was enough.
Sounds had recently begun to fascinate her, as she settled into a state of inner quiet. The sounds of this performance was one example, and others were the underrated sounds of the rain forest or of voices in general. She had visited everyone's personal homelands for the simple task of soaking in the sounds to be offered: the shift of sands in Flint's multi-hued desert; the swish of grasses in Path's wide, golden field; the stream that bubbled across Darroch's sparsely treed prairie; the fierce crash and spark of the storm that forever floated in full force on the ground of Hybrid's valley.
And their voices especially interested her. Her own rustled in a low, rich melody, producing a sound as involved as that of dripping leaves brushing together. Hybrid's, however, was rough and sounded more like a growl or a sizzling crack of lightning than anything, although they were of the same alter. Path spoke in a deeply melodious baritone, and her son in a low, rich voice that lilted softly with a hint of his mother's old world speech. And Flint's voice was always smooth and warm, the very sound of swirling sand or caressing flames.
She caught herself humming with the music of the plants during Darroch's play and couldn't help but smile to herself. He had the 'actors' fleeing through their legs, a desperate chase where lover pursued lover as the villain followed close behind.
"You think of the music yourself as you learn what each vibration does on different leaves?"
"Leaves and other parts of the plant. Moving them for the play affects the sounds they make; 'tis quite an interesting experiment."
He smiled as he spoke, his gaze flickering up for barely a moment as Sparkle nickered in amusement. The tiger lily was making a show of cowering behind one of his rich indigo legs, a small touch that earned a wide smile.
Although he was one of the oldest among the group, he placed under Frolic in regards to the order of 'siblings.' He was warm and playful, forever young, although he had grown exponentially over the years.
The first to bond and stake his claim on what would be his homeland, his voice was bright and bubbly in spite of his age. He had suffered through Path's anger and frustration when she came and found herself to be more mature and of an older sibling status in spite of his advanced years, and had suffered his own phase of panic and pain as he settled in this new home from another. And still, he chased the sparkling pixie light through his dappled, sunny woodland home and nickered as the leaves vibrated against his hock.
He thought of his mate, his life-partner as the orchid swung a wide arc and attempted to cut off his fleeing love interest. How many times had they themselves raced and chased and loved over time? So many, and every moment wonderful. It warmed him from the inside to consider her, to consider the strength she had shown when he finally grew from the fumbling, confused mass of indigo male into a true stallion, one who was bright and friendly without the need to remain an eternal foal.
It saddened him, as well. He was warm and confident in their bond and knew that, whenever they should see each other such time as they would get would be enough. They were the leads in their own circle, had been mates for years, and what's more it did not scare him to be away from his beloved. And yet he knew others here were not so lucky.
"A dance, a game, a chase! My boy you do a fine job of depicting love itself."
"You would be the one to know, Firefly."
Sparkle snorted, smiling as he always did when referred to by his nickname. They all had one: he was Firefly, for the dancing sparks along his hide and his own habit of chasing the flickering little lights; Frolic was called Tiger Lily, as she always had the sweet, wet smell of lush rain forests; Hybrid was known as the Soldier, for his outer quiet, inner steel and love of dangerous lands to travel though; Darroch was commonly referred to as Green Horn, a double pun on both his elemental abilities and his youth; Path was called the SunDancer; and Flint was most frequently addressed as Sarge. Proper names held power and importance, and more than that these nicknames were their own secret calling cards. They were known amongst the group and to few, if any, others.
As the play continued Sparkle couldn't help but consider how much meaning something so small could hold, be it flowers dashing about or a simple cherished nickname. When the two plants leaped into the air, jumping off the trunk of a nearby tree in a miniature explosion of dirt, he caught himself locking eyes with Tribe; and realized she was holding similar thoughts.
She was just under him in sibling ranking, one of the group that would only step up and take charge if there was no other choice. Her main interest was the sea; and more importantly, it was traveling. She was known as their Gypsy, the wandering and exotic mare that was never long rooted. And yet everyone knew how lonely her sea-faring voyages could make her. She was desperate for companionship, something that Sparkle suspected might stem from the remarkable ease she had accepted settling into her new homeland. Like so many others this was not her first and the transition is always a hard one; yet the Gypsy girl seemed to be the exception to the rule. She had explored her new home and then began her travels, wandering for days or weeks and returning long enough to rest and trade tales.
She wanted, more than anything, to know what these little flowers in the play were showing her. To have someone follow her, to accompany her on her wandering journeys, to give her a light heart and a merry laugh as they stood by her through whatever came. She and Hybrid had compacted a deal between them, both of them agreeing to provide companionship for the other to ease the ache. It would only last until one of them found a real partner, but for the moment it worked.
Hybrid had taken a fancy towards someone, but only time would tell what may come of that. Flint had been eying someone as well for a little while, although unlike Hybrid he seemed to have forgotten the potential love after some time without her. Tribe herself was hopeful towards three different stallions; she wanted to know them better, to learn who, if any, might be a good traveling companion.
It made her head hurt to consider it; she was actively interested in each of them, for different reasons. There was one thing she knew for certain, however: Tribe was going to take her time in choosing. She had seen the long, hard, lonely nights that both Path and Sign had suffered through, not only because of missing mates but also because of their foals. For Path, her son was nearly full grown and had as of yet to even see his father. For Sign, she had given her son up to let him travel with his father. It hurt Tribe's heart to see the way these mares would eye the horizon, and she refused to join them.
"Oh, sugar, I do hope he catches her. Just what would the orchid do without his little tiger lily?"
Darroch had to smile at the notion. Tribe had a strange voice for a water wanderer and he simply loved to hear her talk. She had a soft drawl, a gentle twang, a slight lilt that was as sweet as peaches and pure as home made cream. It really was adorable, and for Tribe absolutely everyone was 'sugar.'
"You'll simply have to watch! Yet it hath never been known to be quite so simple as that."
"Don't tease the wee lass now, boyo, it be your own play!"
Everyone looked up with at least a hint of a smirk as Breeze spoke up, gently teasing Darroch and helping to smooth the small frown of worry that had begun to form on Tribe's face as she became entranced with the dancing blossoms. They had gone hither and yon, here and gone, chasing and embracing, loving and arguing. Just when they thought it would be a happy ending, something would happen; and it was impossible to tell just what that something might be until it had already occurred. They all kept milling around, shifting to keep a good view of what happened, or else to reshape the 'stage' area.
Breeze was the lowest stallion in the list of sibling ranking, though he was certainly one of the older ones. Like many of the others, he came here from another place and had had a time of transition. Being of Arctic Winds his time was spent flittering away, isolating himself in the high peaks and mountains of his new homeland. When he had finally shown himself to the others, his wings caked in cracking layers of sleet from his latest daredevil maneuvering through the mountain skies, it had been to reveal a severe love for wind chimes, a hilarious talent with accents, and a bouncy little brother eagerness that earned him the nickname of Horsefeathers.
It was almost impossible to tell what his own voice was like, and yet everyone in the group knew how much he admired another green stallion known to all of them as Sham. Whenever Breeze felt particularly good or playful he would take on that springy accent, mimicking it with the same expertise as the wind can mimic crying. His true voice was only known to come into play when he was beyond happy and into the realm of fully relaxed and internally calm; so on a very rare occurrence. When it did happen, however, his voice proved to be a low, soothing hum, with a tinkling accent on certain vowels not unlike the wind chimes he so adores.
He had been considered by Tribe for a brief period as a potential suitor; or potential target, as the case may be. The problem was that, while he wasn't against the idea of being with someone, he wasn't ready to be serious about it yet. Breeze wasn't even actively looking; the closest he had come to that was developing an appreciation for mares with wings, and a constant fondness for anyone who could keep up with him in the skies.
He had never even suspected Tribe's interest.
"It starts out as his play, Horsefeathers, but the story can take on a life of it's own. Who's to say the tiger lily won't fall for the ivy shoot? It's been right terrible to poor orchid, yet there's obsessive determination in regards to winning the tiger lily."
"It's only gone after her while orchid's been around, though. I think it's more about competing for tiger lily and defeating orchid than it is about actually winning the lily."
"And after all she and orchid have been through, sugar, it just wouldn't be right. He took her back after the trouble with the frog at the log after all, sug!"
Sign smiled and absently shook out her mane, giving Darroch a subtle wink as she got the others talking about his play. The plants were changing hues according to the mood of what was happening, something that she found particularly appealing. Her trouble came from trying to split her mind between the dancing flowers and Hybrid's rippling scales.
Both Darroch and Hybrid were elementals, and both had managed to grasp their element on a severely minute scale, as well as the grander one. Darroch could mess with the chemicals in the plants, gleaning different reactions as he manipulated them and reshaped the land; the way that he currently found to be the most amusing was by altering their colors. Hybrid had discovered that lightning existed within living creatures in the form of unfathomably small electric shocks that carried information throughout the body; he was currently thrilling in using the alteration of these little signals to shift his own appearance.
The main reason she found these to be so interesting is that in the few occasions she had wandered from her little sea and visited the great oceans, she had seen other creatures that seemed to be able to do such tricks naturally. One, she knew, was called an octopus.
Smiling to herself, she stashed the little bit of knowledge away in the back of her mind, as she so often did in the hopes of sharing it with her mate or son one day. They, like Tribe, were wanderers; Sign was content to stay in the safety of her sea. She had wandered in the ocean while she was little and had scar marks on her backside as a permanent reminder of what could go wrong if you traded safety for curiosity.
Besides, the great oceans were far too wild for her. She was known as the Siren, and for good reason; her quiet, rippling voice was outstandingly soothing and melodious, and instantly drowned out by the roar of forceful waters. Outside her sheltered home, she quite frequently had difficulty communicating.
Oh! Oh, look, the orchid's standing up to the ivy now. No more running away!"
"And just in time. I see Path and Flint working their way closer; it's about time for the gathering to begin."
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Flint
Path
Nova
Darroch
Hybrid
Frolic
Sparkle
Tribe
Breeze
Sign
Shiro