Wandering Hearts (Gypsy and Tribe)

For Serian couples and more intimate RPing.
Willows surround a shaded vale, sheltering all within.
Vineda
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Re: Wandering Hearts (Gypsy and Tribe)

Post by Vineda »

Talk about feeling terrible. Their last flurry seemed to have sapped all the energy she had. My poor flower, you are downright wilting! He scolded himself. Twas common occurance for him to fast during his treks through deserts, but there was little excuse for ignoring her needs. I have found a new exotic bloom and must be much more diligent to take better care.

He snuffled over her, massaging gently as he debated. A new protectiveness had appeared in him, and he was loathe to leave her alone even near the fire. But he also did not want her stumbling over stones that could give her a nasty turn in her tired state and they both needed nourishment and rest.

He shivered at her tail tickling over his sensitive hise. Tell me, love. Does salt water freshen itself for you as willingly as it provides driftwood? He had an inkling it might, and if she could find it in herself to give that a try he could dash for some other sustenance.

Leaning impossibly closer, the Red Sands stallion channeled all of his wanderings beneath the baking desert sun. He thought of all those days of wandering through the waves of heat splashing back up from the sand itself as though it were an ocean of warm air he waded* through. No Sunray was he, to emit his own light and heat, but he could feel his own skin warm again in response to such vital memories. Normally he used such mind exercises to cool himself, but he figured it had to work the other way as well eh?

Sheltering her in his warm embrace brought him such peace he nearly dozed with her right there in their warm bubble of body heat, but he needed to make sure she got food. Have you warmed enough for a quick water collection, lovely lily? Then we shall rest right here by the fire. He could make a quick trip uphill for food and bring it right back to their fire for her.

OOC|*Edits - spelling oishes
Last edited by Vineda on Thu Jan 03, 2019 9:37 pm, edited 2 times in total.

Songhue
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Re: Wandering Hearts (Gypsy and Tribe)

Post by Songhue »

Tribe half-dozed as he snuggled against her outer flank, his skin a warm balm against the chill carried in off the water. Surrounded by warm fire and warmer stallion, she found herself in a waking dream as they leaned together.

The night was late, but neither had grown weary, not yet. So they settled around their little fire, her head reaching over his back to rest upon his shoulder, as they tested knowledge and shared secrets.

Lessee, he was saying, a merry twinkle in his gaze, You've heard tale of my discovering a whole hidden forest at the heart of a desert, certainly, but did you know the favorite flower from that forest?

She smiled, eyes half lidded, knowing she could find no memory of such an intimate detail - that was the point of this, after all - but trying all the same to guess, to see if she knew him so well as that.

It would have been unique, she murmured, or reminded you of someone. Maybe-


She snorted at his question, rousing herself with a jaw-cracking yawn as her brain attempted to switch gears, the dream slowly identifying itself as such as the cobwebs were chased from her mind. He had asked earlier if the sea freshened itself, she remembered that now, and indeed he had chased enough chill from her bones that she felt she could at least gather the needed supply.

Oh, my darlin', beloved Magpie, I'll have to strive to be worthy of such attentiveness, she murmured, and brushed her cheek over his hide, her heart bursting that she was not once again startled awake to an empty night. Whenever he left her - for surely he would eventually leave her side, as they had sworn nothing beyond this most marvelous of nights - she would have to be sure that she had given him every reason to find her once again. If it was to be no more than an oasis of peace found in a desert of isolation, she would take it, for even that much would keep her going. And then, perhaps, one day...

She would never be truly happy until they created their walking roots together, their bond that of true mates and utterly unbreakable. But she would wait until she earned that right from this mighty stallion. However long that took.

So she stretched stiff joints, paused to kiss him - long, deep, and filled with all those things she had no words for, all the hunger and promise and sheer adoration for his ability to understand - and rummaged through her tail for a moment. However silly she looked with her back leg hiked up and her nose buried in her tail, it was a sight he would have to grow used to.

After a moment she straightened up with a leather sack in her muzzle, and at the top was a curious double drawstring made of dried and woven plants; she thought it had been called hemp, but she wasn't certain. Some sort of grass, anyway.

Stepping carefully, Tribe started picking her way through the shallows, the shock of the cold water on her fetlocks waking her the rest of the way as she paused and looked back at him. I only have the one watersack, my love, but if you don't mind sharing? she asked, and gave him a smile warmer than his fire. Even if he did want the first sack to himself she could always go back for more, but Tribe had a feeling he wouldn't mind sharing her haul equally. If more was needed after that, then so be it, but she believed he wouldn't leave her to wait for that.

She yawned again as she turned back towards the water and very nearly dropped the blasted thing. A snorting laugh escaped her as she caught it again, the breeze blowing it right into her face, and a smattering of giggles trailed from her as she finally ducked her head and let the water flow into the opening.

It was careful work, trying to keep her own nose out of the sea, and for those few minutes while the tide rushed and churned through her prized bag it took all of her focus not to accidentally drown while standing there.

Finally, she straightened up and found one last dune that tried to defy the pull of the tide, a small little pile of sand that still reached towards the sky. Placing the sack on the flattest part she could find she let go with the slow care of someone who's had the entire contents spillover before, a small sigh of relief escaping her as it stayed balanced. The firelight barely reached her and, now that she wasn't holding it by her body, highlighted the unique features of her little bag. The bottom was thick, slightly rounded, and entirely inflexible. There were decorative sapphires smattered throughout emeralds that trailed up the sides in the guise of climbing clematis, the leather flower, each one marking a segment of the bag that was almost as stiff as the base; bits of willow bark laced the sides to allow the leather to stretch without collapsing outward. The bottom had been sewn with a pattern of stone agate, the pieces interconnecting like a puzzle, and while they would collapse into themselves while the sack was empty the water pressure kept them precisely interlinked. The base flickered like a rainbow on fire in the faint light that reached her.

Tribe did love her trinkets.

Carefully tugging the higher of the two drawstrings, she very slowly lifted a fine mesh of moss that clung to a sheer net of still more of the strange hemp grass. By the time she had drawn the string tight a small pile of salt and sand sat on top of her little moss net, and the bag was half empty.

So she grabbed the bag just under the opening and let the filtration moss dangle inside out as she walked back out to the water, held her breath, and dunked the whole bag under the surface. A few quick swishes and the moss had been rinsed, the salt in the ocean flitting by too fast for it to impede any of the excess flying free from her bag. Balancing the bag in the gentle shallows with her hoof, she righted it long enough to grab one side of the opening and step deeper into the ocean, just far enough that she could tilt the bag to allow a little more to flow in without having any of her cleaned water spill out.

It took a few repetitions before she had a properly filled sack of cleaned water, but it honestly didn't take long. She never had to walk very far once she first hit the water, and even four trips took but a few moments when she only needed to move a half dozen steps.

Finally, her mossy net was cleaned for the last time and allowed to settle once more into the bottom of her watersack, waiting for the chance to soak up any remnants they couldn't quite drink (for it was never done that anything which held water would be truly dry).

It was quite heavy when she returned to the fire with it, and the moment she put it down her stomach snarled. It hadn't been much work, but any work on such an empty stomach would garner protest; Tribe could only huff a sigh and look at her stomach in exasperation. Such a fuss!
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Vineda
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Re: Wandering Hearts (Gypsy and Tribe)

Post by Vineda »

OOC| Apologies for bad storytelling, mah brain eez tuckered.

BIC| His Bonded loved candles, he knew. Colored, scented, even artificial. His sensitive nose had no love for their pretend smells, though the dancing flames they provided were enjoyable. This mare, though! She smelled of ocean waves and windblown sand, tropical fruits and hidden mysteries. How did her scent change so, from one moment to the next? Earlier he could swear she had nestled in a bed of lilies - hence the pet name he had discovered recently. As they cuddled near the fire, however, he could detect whifs of an almost herby... spice of some sort. It was delightful if a bit baffling.

And so here Gypsy could be found with his nose buried in her tresses, with a constant press against warm smooth beautiful hide. His body welcomed the weight she leaned on him as though drinking her in. Stillness broke with perhaps the largest yawn he’d ever seen. A beautiful stretch followed that gave him ample chance to admire that graceful form of hers before she stole and stopped his burgeoning heart with another glorious kiss. More than worthy, sea nymph, and much more again were his whispered words as she left him ready to chuckle at the memory of her standing oh so elegant and yet os so humorous in her unique pose. That was one he’d not seen but for the rare glimpse of young foals before.

Would that he could let his gaze linger on. Alas, there was much gathering to be done and quickly! After she smiled at him he whirled and darted away, missing the words that asked if he minded sharing in his haste. That smile had reminded him the sooner he got to work, the sooner he could return and tackle her again. Race you! he called back over his shoulder as he bolted away.

Sunset hues that had lost their vibrance in the starlit darkness flew up the slope, taking care not to snag on stones. It was not long at all before thicker foliage was found, and leaves were gathered that might act as pouches. Those were left on a fallen tree trunk before being loaded up with grasses and clovers. A few strands of ricegrass nestled in the center to add heartiness. Over these he sprinkled a few nutty, legumey pieces he’d encountered in the past but never learned the name for. Just one or two a piece, they were a treat. Stumbling upon a patch of dark as night berries made him prance in excitement at the prospect of delivering such a nice dinner-slash-midnight snack to his love.

One jumbo leaf with the corners collected and held together made an excellent carrier for all of this, and when he could not figure out how to add a round apple to the mix he decided to steal a whole branch tip with the apple attached. This made it immensely easier to carry though Gypsy was still a tad envious of Tribe with her endless-storage tail. So preoccupied with carrying his haul back in the direction of the beach that he paid no mind to the terrain. It was two way-too-giving steps before it dawned on him that something was very wrong with the ground...

The fall took him so by surprise that he had not even the time to yell out in alarm. As he hit the ground the solid impact of packed earth finally jarred his prize pouch and branch from his mouth. Eyes darting for any clues, Gypsy could make out large gouges in the earth around him. Pacing just a few steps to one direction, then a few steps back and again to the other way he could discern that he was in a hole about twice his length across. He had a sneaking suspicion something had dug a very effective trap here. Of course, the inclination was to holler to Tribe to alert her to his plight. It was not very far to the beach... No, that was something he would not be giving in to. If it were a trap, he wanted her nowhere near and he also wanted to make as little noise as possible. Who knew how long it would be for a digger to check its trap. Curses! he muttered vehemently under his breath.

For now, he found the wall again and scanned it for more hints, more hoofholds, and hopefully escape inspiration. Asking the shifting sands for leeway was much different than solid earth, he hadn’t fully explored the idea yet but hope was being elusive at the moment. The Magpie’s mind kept darting away from the look he could just see coming over his newly found angel’s features if she thought he had abandoned her. And he’d picked up on enough tidbits and the tones of her plea to not leave her to know that this was where her mind would go. He MUST get free and tell her otherwise. Heart beating wildly, a frantic search began. Without knowing it, her name was chanted under his breath in an urgent mantra.

Vineda
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Re: Wandering Hearts (Gypsy and Tribe)

Post by Vineda »

Time found him standing with his forhead against the dirt wall of his enclosure. His imaginings of her falling face haunted him, and he stomped a hoof once again in agitation. There was nothing for it, this might happen the hard way but it was going to happen darnit.

One great breath in and blown out again began his work. Leaning weight back on haunches allowed golden forehoofs to begin their pummeling at a layer of dirt as high and he could reach.

It was not too long before he had deepened a gouge enough to have trouble reaching for more dirt. Gypsy then lowered his attack level, working on the section between his first indent and the ground. If he were able to get out of this, he would look like a black mud-monster and probably scare the lady away anyway. Darn dirt. If you were dry sand this would be a different game and you would not be so smug. As it was, roots and moisture held the claylike sand in place, evading his requests with solid indifference.

Grumbling to himself, he stomped the pile of dirt around his feet into a more solid mass and stepped up on it to begin the process again. It was only a few minutes time before his grumbling earned him a mouthful of the damp earth. Spitting and hacking did little to remove a large part of the fine granules, so teeth ground to a constant grit that he vowed to hold until he finished the job. Those grumbles did heighten in volume quite a bit, but only internally now.

Reaching the top took a pretty bit of time, dawn was not too far off. One last scramble and he should be there... A glance back to the insipid pit gave him the opportunity to glare at it. It also showed him his pouch of green leaf and his apple branch lying forgotten on the other side of the mayhem. A mental grimace, and Gypsy descended back down his switchback to retrieve it. No way was he leaving it after all this.

Back up the levels of dirt stairs he climbed, wary for what he would find at the top. Apparently not a thing. Glancing around, everything was still. VERY still. He resisted the urge to shake himself (there was dirt -everywhere-) and opted for a quiet, hasty departure. Hooves made little sound on soft earth and luckily there was no foliage to snap-crackle-pop. This also assured him that when he heard a click-click-clicking from behind him and off to one side, he knew the sound was not his. Keeping an even pace was a challenge, as was not looking over his shoulder until after clearing the trees.

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Re: Wandering Hearts (Gypsy and Tribe)

Post by Songhue »

It seemed she had won their 'race,' as casting her gaze about the fire revealed nothing. For her spoils she drank her fill, easing some of the hunger pangs that cramped her gut. Daintily tucking her nose beneath her front leg, she stifled another yawn and settled in to wait.

---

Time past and she dozed. The fire was a warm reassurance after a long day, and it didn't take much to tug her towards the drifting lull of sleep. It wasn't until cold struck her once more that she snorted herself awake; the fire had burned out, only a few faint embers left to cast their dying light over her pale hide.

She was alone.

Scenarios played themselves out in her mind, chasing one another in circles as she looked around the dark, starlight evening. Had he abandoned her, after promising her just the one evening? Had he fallen somehow, injured a leg? Would she see him shambling up within moments, hauling an entire tree?

Her thoughts spiraled on themselves as she sat, frozen in the grip of heartache, staring at the distant promise of her newly discovered beloved.

He had left, found something else to chase after while seeking food, her company no more than a momentary distraction.
She found him again, purely by chance, greeted him with relief that she would cross such a path once more - only for him to not know her, his memory of their evening easily forgotten.
Finding him again, asking him how he could do such a thing, that he had
promised her.
Asking her if she was always so free with 'falling in love,' rather she honestly expected him to believe in such an obvious scam.
Seeing the look on her face, the empty husk that the evening always found, and turning away, his heart unable to bear such darkness in her.


Shaking her head, roused by the return of hunger cramps, she reigned her thoughts in and surged to her feet. Sitting there was achieving nothing and could only lead to more of the same; thoughts of abandonment, of how utterly alone she was.

So, heart heavy and visage grim, she took a step forward, determined that she would find either her dearest love (for no other would ever compare to this great stallion), or at the very least something to eat. Hopefully both, as that first step made her aware of a slight rush of dizziness. It had been too long since she had stopped for such small cares; movement kept the ache away.

It didn't help with the hollow space next to her. Her movements had lost their grace beneath the starlight, mind and body operating in a numb, automatic shamble as she trudged through the rocky divide.

She could almost see the promised greenery ahead when one rock slipped a bit more than she could compensate for, sending her tumbling to the ground. The hoof that had slipped found a pebble in her stumble, a painfully stabbing pinch shooting up through her leg as it lodged itself firmly. It was almost enough do drown out the sensation of her knee slicing open upon the rough granite.

Something snapped inside of her as she saw her blood puddling through the stones, her breath catching in a wheeze of misery. This was too much to deal with. Too much. Waking alone, completely bereft of the laughter and joy he had lit her world with, realizing she was at best a forgotten fling - for how could anyone so grand and strong ever consider such a broken thing as she? It was enough pain to deal with.

Breathe.

The words came unbidden, swimming up through memory as black spots danced before her eyes, harder to notice in the moonless night over the dark pool of her blood. Breath seared into her lungs, burning her throat, and then she couldn't get enough of it, each inhalation a short gasp of desperation. She was hyperventilating.

You are drowning, she heard, the words the only thing to penetrate her mind, the memory so sharp that it stabbed through what awareness she had left. There is a storm within you. You must ride out the storm, sweet tribal wanderer. Or be lost to it.

She saw it then, as she had when the words were first spoken to her so long ago. A cyclone within, a vortex that would consume her. Her gaze turned inward, focused on her battle, and outwardly she seemed almost composed, her head tucked down so that her chin pressed to her chest as silent tears glinted under the pale stars; the image of a lady in distress.

Her breath was the wind, ragged and raging, each hiccuping whimper a gale that stirred the storm. Her heartbeat was the frantic crashing of the ocean, a roar of raging pain that would destroy anything else within her soul. It sucked her under, closed over her head as the rain and thunder pounded against her skull, and for a moment her body stopped breathing.

You must ride out the storm, her bonded had told her. Or be lost to it.

She had ridden out storms before. She knew how to find their dance, to learn their movements. She could ride this one, as well.

The knowledge flung her to the surface, let her drag in a shuddering, sobbing breath, and she set to her task; attempting to survive her own heart.

As any other storm she learned the rhythm, the spacing of the waves of sorrow that crashed over her. Drift, be ready to be dragged under as it sucked her back towards the cyclone, but when the water pushed back once again a hard push to move with it, to add distance between herself and the heart of her hurt. Drifting through the memory of his touch, the taste of his kiss, the hope that it had all meant something - and stretching herself as she strained towards the hope that dawn would bring some other touch, some other fascination to pass the journey. Drifting backwards, knowing it would not fill that void, would not be his touch, his laughter - but reaching, pushing, striving forwards with all the many things still yet undiscovered. Such things to see, so many places to learn the secrets of, such treasures as awaited.

By the time she could see again, by the time her breathing had grown even and was no longer an inaudible flutter, when her heart no longer pounded through her skull, dawn was beginning to break. She was more than hungry, more than exhausted; she felt as the undead. Time alone would tell how much of her had survived this latest storm.

Sighing, she shifted her waterbag, tugging at the lower of the two drawstrings, the one that expanded to allow her to carry it around her neck. It had been pulled tight by the weight, and she needed an opening loosened so that she might rinse off the blood that caked her knee to the stone. There were things that hunted by the scent of such a thing, and others that could track her without fail if they had but a taste of the red life that coursed through her. Best not leave any behind; caution was a hard-learned necessity.

The automatic task helped to steady her a little bit. It was the first part of starting this new day; and once again, she would shake off the remnants of the dark as best she could.
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Re: Wandering Hearts (Gypsy and Tribe)

Post by Vineda »

Something insect-like was investigating the pit, and Gypsy did not waste any time figuring out why. Could be he was wrong, and it were not the culprit. There was a feeling about the creature seemed rather sinister, and his priority was to get back to the mare he’d been kept from. His route back to their nest was a hasty zig-zag in hopes that perhaps a tracker might consider it too much trouble.

It took him a few moments once he broke through the tree line to the grasses before the beach to get his bearings and find the stretch they had stopped in. Longer was the space it took him to find her form. He made for the stretch of sand just to one side of a tide pool as the sun threatened to appear. Before he got there he stumbled upon a heartbreaking sight. There was little heartbreak at first, just fear, as first he thought her fighting some terrible thing wrapping around her neck. She wrestled with it weakly, with a pool of blood beneath her as he neared.

Heart positively stopped, Gypsy rushed forward to close the space between them. It was an adorned bag of some sort but did not seem to be the cause of trouble. Her graceful forelegs were bent as they should and where they should... Sparing a quick peek over his shoulder and seeing no sign of a close pursuer gave him leave to turn his attention wholly to his poor love. Food packet dropped forgotten and his large frame dropped down next to hers. He nosed in to her neck, her cheek, eyes probing with tender concern. My love? Oh my darling, what has happened? He was having a rather hard time seeing her capable form so crumpled with that haunted look in her eyes and imagining her snapping out of it and rising with enough steadiness to go anywhere at the moment.

In a quick movement the large stallion half rose and maneuvered his body to settle next to hers so that he was facing the same direction she was. Keeping watch on the trees should give him opportunity to see anything approaching from that way. At least he could make a stand, if he needed.

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