 06:18:33 Sam -HEE Click-
Excuse me why did I make you a gelding 🥲 |
06:09:07 Celeste 🌕 | Again- I am new to gardening. Their roots are not even established yet they were planted so recently. I am gonna wait till I know they are for sure established before doing anything. I have my mother and a gal from church who owns a big nursery helping me with this small garden. They only want me keeping them watered at the moment. |
06:07:14 Sam -HEE Click-
Ahahahahahgagaga!!!!!!!!!
1/1 |
06:06:42 Sam| Of course I just poked my eye with mascara |
06:02:36 Ru| not counting those I gave away or sold or lost, that'd put me around 170 |
06:02:04 Ru| And trim flowers off of them whole, leave only the green stem, they look like grandiflora and those like to make seeds and die. So don't let them. Source - overwintered around 100 petunias |
06:00:25 Ru Celeste
counting from the left: 2,4,6 |
05:57:05 Sam| Who should I rate today 🧐 |
05:56:11 Snow❆Gem| So... actually the answer is yes, but have to be quite old for the game... |
05:56:00 Celeste 🌕 | And that photo is from the day I planted them- so it may not be good yet to think about trimming. Which is why I moved them onto the porch so they would not flood in the storm |
05:55:10 Snow❆Gem @fasque
No, unless its like 60+ years old. lol |
05:52:37 Celeste 🌕 | Which one is the petunia? I would have to have my mom help me trim because I do not know how yet. I am lucky they are event still alive |
05:45:27 Ru Celeste
This petunia needs a trim, if possible |
04:55:45 Lysa| Oh i feel like i know what those are i can't think of it though. They are pretty though! |
04:49:37 Celeste 🌕 | They sure are! I love them 😍 |
04:31:01 | Does anybody know if rider age plays a role in retirement? |
04:21:04 Celeste 🌕 | I cannot remember. Hang on I have a pic. |
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Hey everyone!So, I’m going to start this little thing called the Horses of Arlem. They’ll be short stories about a herd of horses belonging to the Arlem family name. I’ll try to keep it updated as best as possible. I should end up updating with more short stories every week, possibly more than one a week. Until further notice, there is no specified date I’ll upload. Basic Background:So, these horses believe in magics and demons. They often believe in fantastic warriors and unicorns and pegasi. They all have individual names, following their herd’s family name, ex: Kora Arlem, Hiati Arlem, etc. Tradition: Stallions watch for danger/scouting. Mares are to protect the foals and take care of one another. At the start of each season they have a grand celebration. During the fall celebration, one yearling is sent to the vigil tree where they will remain an entire day and night. The yearling mustn’t eat or drink during the vigil and they mustn’t speak neither. If they fail their vigil, they are branded with the mark of the devil and may never rejoin the herd, nor rejoin another. If they succeed, they are said to receive a special “power”, be it good or bad. Their power is determined by their personality.
A horse is chosen for vigil, in a semi-discrete way. Yearlings are continuously monitored to make sure of any way they might be chosen. Those who are chosen may have a very distinct change of personality right before the Fall Celebration. Others may have a small swirled frog on one of their hooves from birth. This is very rare, and usually means that they will succeed. There are multiple other changes that may occur, such as:
An unsuspected marking can suddenly appear. Change of eye color (very abrupt). They may uphold a strange cross-like marking on their forehead.
Lore: It is said that each celebration of the seasons guarantees the seasons will come again the coming year. It is said that any yearling who fails their vigil at the vigil tree does not survive another year of their lives. It is also said that when they succeed, they continue to live forever, however this is just myth.
Wellora Map
https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/3c5fa21d-d81b-4f04-b824-6892656d32b1/dd2njj5-b56fa04a-7f58-4c18-b214-d09bbc289721.png/v1/fill/w_894,h_894,strp/wellora_map_by_bioshockhorror_dd2njj5-pre.png?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9MTI4MCIsInBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzNjNWZhMjFkLWQ4MWItNGYwNC1iODI0LTY4OTI2NTZkMzJiMVwvZGQybmpqNS1iNTZmYTA0YS03ZjU4LTRjMTgtYjIxNC1kMDliYmMyODk3MjEucG5nIiwid2lkdGgiOiI8PTEyODAifV1dLCJhdWQiOlsidXJuOnNlcnZpY2U6aW1hZ2Uub3BlcmF0aW9ucyJdfQ.cA4679kIVBCtUYzsB5kPbJjcij1rdowspSZHMUMRAK8 Edited at March 23, 2019 06:07 PM by Phantom Nyxx |
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Kora Arlem (Part 1)
Her excitement was evident as she crow-hopped about her mother. Her short mane and growing black and white tail bounced wildly. Kora’s mother, Eliah, snorted her embarrassment as the other mares watched on in amusement, “Kora, stop behaving like a feather-brain,” she lipped at the excited foal.
"Mother!” Kora slid to an immediate stop, “No one in our lineage has received the vigil, I’m the first! How can I not?” She continued her berated bucking and kicking.
Eliah rolled her eyes. “Well, I guess I can’t stop you, but he might,” she pricked her curled ears toward an approaching stallion.
Kora whirled, the whites of her eyes showing, What?
A massive shining mahogany bay stallion strut toward her. His gleaming hide shone brilliantly in the midday sun. His gaze was kind, yet like stone. “Kora Arlem,” he addressed the yearling. He halted, his neck curled neatly and his held held tall and proud.
“Nero Arlem,” Kora replied respectfully, bowing to the stallion.
Nero was their lead stallion. He led the herd away from danger and was father to most foals. Even Kora.
He nodded appreciatively. “Are you ready for your vigil?”
She stood back up, attempting to mimic her father’s stature. “Yes, Father!”
He smiled at her. He was deep in thought about his daughter. She was the first of his foals to receive this vigil, and he was exceptionally proud of her.
The other mares continued to watch Kora and Nero, however the yearling paid no mind as she awaited her father’s next reply.
“Well, let us head to the tree,” he turned, heading toward the treeline about a half of a mile from the meadow they grazed in. The leaves on all the trees were a mixture of yellows, oranges, and reds, even the slight hues of green not willing to give up their colors yet.
Kora craned her neck to her mother who stood sadly, but proudly behind her daughter. “Go on,” she urged with a slight nod of her white face.
Kora’s heart sped up in pulse. This could be the final time she saw her mother’s flaxen chestnut coat. The wonderful painted white splotches that scattered the chestnut brown. The kind, gentle demeanor. Her voice. The thought made her anxious.
The same feeling couldn’t overwhelm her with Nero. She knew not of her father and who he was. She knew nothing but he was the supreme.
Kora trotted after her father, her excitement drained, replaced by the slight nagging of fear. Together, father and daughter walked past the mares of the herd and Kora’s friends.
She may never see any of her friends again either. Not Mala, Cerro, nor Oben. It panged her. Her proud head was no longer such. Her head was hung low and her ears were pinned as she walked past all of them.
Each one of the mares and her friends bowed to her. But none spoke a goodbye, or good luck. That made her heart ache more. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. But she didn’t let a tear slide down her cheek. She wanted to spare these moments of her obvious embarrassment.
Soon, they had left the heard altogether and had arrived at the treeline. “Are you ready?” Nero stopped short of the ferns and blackberries, the large birch trunks.
Kora stopped too, peering into the dark wood. No light filtered through the dense trees. It was a black void that would forever determine her fate. Suddenly, being chosen for vigil seemed a curse.
She nodded hesitantly. They continued through the trees. The further they traipsed through the brush, the darker and darker it got. And the more nervous Kora became. She could not hear any birds, not the chittering of squirrels. It was silent. As she was supposed to be in just a few moments.
Kora took a glance behind her. The light of day had almost all diminished behind them.The blue sky was barely visible. She gulped hard, and trudged on.
Ahead, a clearing stood out in the trees, letting a small circle of light into the forest. Except for the centre. A great oak tree of possibly three-hundred years stood in the immediate centre of the clearing. This was the Vigil Tree. Edited at March 19, 2019 06:27 PM by Phantom Nyxx |
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Kora Arlem (Part 2)
There was a strange aura about it. It made the air cold and definitely made Kora want to wretch. She was beyond anxious to get the vigil over with.
“We have arrived.” Nero stated dully. He had made this trip seven years in a row. It took away from the excitement and wonder of the tree.
Kora nodded, staring troubled at the oak.
“Are you okay?” Nero asked worriedly, a concerned look in his eye.
Kora shook her head, her short mane, flopping about on her black and white painted neck.
“Are you nervous?” Her father took a step in front of her.
She nodded, a tear rolling down her cheek.
“You’ll do just fine. I believe in you. It isn’t the first time you’ve had to be patient.” He wrapped his neck around Kora’s.
“Yes, but that was only for a few moments. I don’t think I’ll make an entire day and night without giving in.” She huffed, almost choking on her words.
“You have until the sun sets, Kora. You may speak to me about it,” he didn’t remove his head from her shoulder.
So he could tell of her hesitance. Her father truly was “all-knowing”.
“I don’t want to have to leave the herd. All of my friends. Mom. You. I may not see any of you again. And...and-” she was beginning to sob. “I’m scared of what the other herds may think of me if I don’t make it. What if they hurt me?”
“They will not do such a thing. They tend to avoid horses with the Mark of The Devil.” Nero replied solemnly.
Kora reared from her father, “How is that supposed to make me feel any better! I want to be with other horses, not be feared!”
Nero sighed, “I’m sorry, I hadn’t realized-”
Of course he hadn’t. He was never there for her or her mother. How would he know?
“Just forget it! I wish to start my vigil.” Kora’s heart right then turned to a pit of ice.
It had taken almost the rest of the day to get to the tree. The sun was beginning to ripen pink.
“Very well.” Nero hung his head. He was sorry for his daughter. She may not survive the vigil after all.
“Kora Arlem, are you ready to begin vigil of the Fall Celebration?” He stood tall in front of his daughter, his neck curled in the same manner as before so he had to gaze at her from the very fronts of his eyes.
Kora nodded, her gaze hard as she stared down at her black hooves.
Nero nodded, a sigh escaping his lips, “Then I hereby commence your vigil of silence in which it is forbidden to eat or drink. Your vigil ends when I return at sunset on the ‘morrow.”
Nero pressed his forehead to his daughter’s. She wouldn’t make eye contact with him. “Good luck,” Nero whispered.
And he left.
Kora didn’t look back at him as she heard him trudge back the way they had come. She could hear the brush snapping as he made his way out of the wood.
Instead, she lay against the tree, sobbing in silence.
Her fit lasted well into the night. The crickets and frogs began to chirp, and when finally the tears could no longer fall, panic set in.
I’m alone. With whatever could be out here.
The possibilities of wolves, and coyotes, bears, and mountain lions split her mind. I could die before I even finish my vigil.
Her heart pumped faster and faster with each passing scenario as it scattered through her brain. Soon she was racing around the clearing, spooking at every falling leaf, every small pop and hoot of an owl that reverberated through the birch and ash trees.
Her ears were pinned, nostrils flared as she began to sweat in the dropping temperature.
She soon began to shiver through her sheen as she began seeing eyes everywhere her head turned. Help me! She screamed in her head. Help me!
And suddenly, everything went black. She slammed against the Vigil Tree head first, delirious with fear. She was unconscious, but even in her dreams, she was not safe from her fears. Edited at March 19, 2019 07:23 PM by Phantom Nyxx |
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Kora Arlem (Part 3: Final)
Throughout the night, she was plagued with nightmares until the sun breached the horizon once more.
Kora woke with a start, leaping to her hooves. A sheet of ice had molded across her pelt. How have I not died? She wondered, shaking furiously.
The ice shimmered away, falling in the frosty grass.
Kora’s tongue was already swollen with thirst and her stomach growled occasionally. Each time, she had to remind herself of her vigil.
As she lay against the trunk of the Vigil Tree, sluggish, and sore, a bubble reached her ears.
She peered around the trunk of the Vigil Tree, seeking out the sound. In her frustrated and delirious state, she had not noticed that there was a creek. More or less a ditch with running water, that is. Or had there been?
Water. She passed her rough, dry tongue over her lips. She twitched her lips slightly as it irritated her whiskers.
No. I mustn’t. I fail if I do.
Her thoughts were very controversial. A silent argument. The thought of drinking was growing more and more frustrating as it grew. She stood, stretching and shaking the dirt from her coat.
Kora looked at the creek. Her stomach gurgled painfully. Maybe water will make it feel better?
And now, without hesitance, she stooped forward. Before she could begin to stop herself, she was taking a long draught of water.
As Kora drank her fill, staving off the parched feeling, a groan came from the Vigil Tree. She lifted her head to look up at the tree as a crack ripped through the air. She whinnied and spooked away as a branch hurtled toward her. It missed as she raced to the other side of the tree again.
Kora stood panting, scared once more as she stared at the branch. A rough and sharp wind had blazed through the leaves as it had fallen: Vigil broken. Price to pay.
Back on the outskirts of the herd, Nero stood, grazing and then searching. He was scouting for predators, and also awaiting the end of his daughter’s vigil. Anxiety pricked at his stomach. Would she make it to sun down? He gazed over the expanse of grass to the treeline, nervous.
As he grazed, his eyes remained level with the ground. And that was the only way he saw a large patch of leaves suddenly disappear. He raised his head, ears pricked forward. “What in the-?” He wondered, but was cut off by a very strong wind.
On the wind, a few words caught in his ear, Vigil….to pay.
He had heard these words perfectly before, in full form. But only once before. And his heart skipped a beat as he flicked his tail in the frosty morning air. “Kora.” He whispered to himself.
He tried to remain calm. If the other horses saw him panic, it would be chaos.
He walked toward the trees, head down. He could not believe this was happening. Kora had failed him. Which meant for him….he could no longer father any more foals. The herd would never flourish with him as the lead stallion. He would have to be replaced, or he would need to appoint a stud.
But….Eliah. She could no longer foal. Even if she did, they poor thing wouldn’t last a week. Thus was the curse of the Vigil Tree.
Nero slumped past a group of stallions. They immediately understood his sorrow. A liver chestnut piped up, “I’m so sorry, Nero Arlem,” he bowed his neck to the stallion. As did the rest of them.
“Thank you,” Nero replied, disheartened.
Today, was a sad day for everyone.
“Kora!”
Kora swung her head around at the sound of her father’s voice. Oily tears rolled down her cheeks. She had not moved from where she had stopped to gaze scaredly at the broken branch. “Father, I’m so sorry,” she whispered as he wrapped his neck around her. “I broke the vigil. I...I….” Nero shushed her.
“It’s alright Kora. You may say your goodbyes.”
She sniffed and nodded. Her mind squandering back to the branch. She understood what she had done. And she now understood what the vigil was meant for.
The Fall Vigil determined the Vigil Tree’s life. When a yearling succeeded, it guaranteed the tree would stand another year. But, if a yearling failed….it took away many years of its life, hence the branch on the ground. Its innards were filled with the orange musk of rot.
Kora gazed up into the great boughs of the Vigil Tree. She sucked in a breath as she realized she had not been the only one to harm the tree. There were scars. Scars that told it was still alive, but possibly barely. There were so many of them too.
“Come on,” Nero broke Kora from her reverie. “It’s time to go back.”
She knew what that meant. The Mark of The Devil.
The other horses gaped and gasped. Kora tried to say goodbye to her friends, but they either shied away, or their mothers bared their teeth at her.
The tears began to shed again as she reached Eliah.
“Kora,” Eliah wrapped her neck around Kora’s.
“I’m so sorry Momma,” she sniffled. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Just know, you are welcome with me any time.”
Those words lingered as she was tugged by the tail away from her dam.
Her heart skipped as she was nudged in the direction of her father again. Her father was to deliver the mark.
As he reared, she tried to beg, but he would not listen. Tears flew from his eyes as his hooves raked across her cheeks in a very lopsided image. It was an upside down cross.
Fearfully, she was chased from the herd, pain made her grimace as she ran, whinnying. No longer did she belong to any family. There was no one to take care of her. To love her. Edited at March 19, 2019 07:34 PM by Phantom Nyxx |
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Eliah Arlem
A horrifying whinny pierced the air, floating across the Arlem valley. Though it was of pain, there was no fear hidden in the scream.
It came from a flaxen chestnut paint mare. Laying on the ground, with a belly swollen, she whinnied again. The strain was obvious, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. Her coat was soaked in sweat.
A few moments more, and a newborn colt was laying next to her, its breath shallow with the new weight of life. Eliah smiled at her new colt. She didn’t feel any better about him, than the last three. He wouldn’t live. But maybe he would. Eliah Arlem could only hope.
The days were hot in the summer. The Arlem herd stuck close to the Arlo lake. Just on the other bank, a long ways off, their closest neighbors grazed, the Westiraan’s. A herd of horses who had to know how to fight, and to protect themselves well. Often wolves from the Isle swam over the expanse of water to seek prey. But instead, fell to the hooves of the Westiraan Herd.
It was only a week before Eliah had given birth to Aram. He was a curious colt, and healthy too. Though he was avoided by the other foals, and chased away by their dams, he was a lovely little horse.
He retained a lovely golden buckskin coat and a white stripe on the front of his right-hind cannon with a ring wrapping around his fetlock. The Curse Mark is what the white represented. And it had all been her filly’s fault.
The next day, Aram wouldn’t see his mother again. And she him.
Four years ago, a filly of hers, Kora, had taken a sacred Vigil. She had failed. And with that, Nero, the dominant stallion still held regn on the Arlem herd, however, he was now infertile due their daughter’s lack of patience. And now, Eliah could no longer breath the life into a foal of her own.
So far, Aram has been the only one to survive the first two hours of birth. He had lasted up to now. But tomorrow would be the end of his short lived life.
Eliah sighed as her son pranced in the shallow banks of the Arlo Lake.
He did seem….smaller than yesterday. He won’t make it to tomorrow’s sunrise. She thought somberly.
The sun was still hung low, the morning air finally beginning to fizz away, melt into the heat. Aram’s ribs were showing through his fur.
Eliah shook away thoughts of his death and instead, decided to spend her last moments with him in joy.
She raced past him, nipped at his tail.
He squealed in excitement and tore after her, his legs flailing about. Eliah let out a bark of laughter. He still didn’t quite have the hang of his long legs.
They raced through the water together, trying to grab one another by the tail. But the fun was soon over.
“Aram?” Eliah splashed to an abrupt stop.
The colt had doubled over, wheezing for breath. His eyes were wild, his breathing ragged. He kept flaring his nostrils, the whites of his eyes prominent. “Ma-mom?”
Aram’s knees buckled and he slipped into the water. Eliah sprinted to her son, laying with him. She wrapped her neck around him, comforting him as best she could. “It’s okay, Aram. Everything is gonna be alright.”
“It….hurts.” He panted. The sound was like nails on a chalkboard. Eliah grimaced. “It’ll go away soon, I promise.” The wheezing didn’t go away, but it slowed, and so did his attempts at breath.
“Ma…..ma?”
Eliah shushed him. “I love you Aram,” tears rolled down her cheeks.
“I….love you mom…..” Aram’s words faded away. The wheezing stopped and Arlam fell limp.
Eliah sobbed over her son’s body. The only son she had ever had. And all because of Kora, he had fallen dead this day.
(Note: I might've cried writing this one) Edited at March 21, 2019 10:21 PM by Phantom Nyxx |
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Perline Linoraan (Part 1)
“Have you heard?” A mare lifted her head proudly, swinging her white mane through the air as though she reigned authority.
“What is it?” Perline, a two year old mare replied, munching on a fallen apple.
“The Arlem heard is apparently in anarchy.” The mare snorted.
There were a few whispers among the group of mares as they grazed.
Perline’s head lifted, ears pricked. “Why’s that?”
“Something about their ridiculous ‘Vigil Tree’. It’s falling apart or something.” She flicked her tail as she spoke very nonchalantly. Even rudely.
“That’s not something to laugh about. That’s their beliefs. You shouldn’t be one to judge, Mona.” The pearly buckskin glared at her herdmate with green eyes.
“Why do you care?” Mona snorted again, taking a step toward the younger mare.
There were a few gasps from the older mares.
“Because. It’s their business. Not yours.”
“Excuse me?” Mona shoved her broad shoulder against Perline. Perline stood her ground, nostrils beginning to flare.
It was often that fights broke out with the the Linoraan herd's most popular mare, Mona. She was always picking on others and saying ludicrous things about the other herds. She would scoff at their very beliefs. But the Linoraan herd’s were possibly more ridiculous than Arlem’s. They believed that if the Summer lasted too long, the world would explode into flame. And that if the winters lasted for too long, the world would be drenched into an immortal winter. Even more ridiculous, they thought that if a foal was still-born, and then, was managed back to life, the entire herd was cursed for eternity.
Perline thought the last was the most ridiculous. Ridiculous and cruel.
The small mare reared, striking the larger across the neck. There was a whinny of pain before both were reared, taking strikes at one another. Their snorts and whinnies brought the attention of most of the horses of the Linoraan herd. The mares they had grazed with had fled, leaving the two free reign of the winter grazing lands.
Perline was slowly winning, pushing Mona toward the Lopen River. The older horse had no idea either. Perline continued to advance and Mona, the cowardly little BirdBrain, continued to stagger away. Her eyes were wild with fear at the smaller mare’s persitency.
A horrible scream was followed by an enormous splash as Mona slipped from the steep Lopen bank, falling into the swift water.
Perline dropped to her four hooves, huffing with fatigue and anger as she watched Mona be swept away by the quick river. She cared not if the mare died. Good riddance. She thought frustratedly.
“Perline!”
Oh no!
An old stallion was galloping toward her. She shrunk away as he slid to a stop. Despite being older than most, he was a foreboding, and strong horse. His muscles rippled and shined with his deep mahogany bay coat. His back swayed slightly and his hips jutted from his sides. He was the supreme stallion of Linoraan.
“What in Malara’s name did you do!” He reared at her.
Perline shied away from him. But he continued to chase her. Soon she was running, and had well left behind the stallion. Her goal: Join the Arlem herd.
Perline knew they were forgiving and often took in mares looking for a home. They were her closest and best bet. Edited at March 25, 2019 01:59 PM by Phantom Nyxx |
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Perline Linoraan (Part 2: Final)
By sundown, she had found her way across the Arble Tributary. She whinnied excitedly as she saw the forms of other horses on the other side of the main river. She continued to race forward and she plunged into the water, swimming strongly across. She could hear shouts and squeals coming from the other bank. She made it across.
Horses all over the clearing were staring wildly at her. A large stallion approached. She knew him to be Nero. “Nero Arlem,” she bowed courteously.
“Stand.”
She obeyed. He walked a few circles around her and reared in confusion. “Where do you come from!”
She shied away from him. “The Linoraan Herd. I was banished.”
There was a crazed look in his eyes as he whispered, “How is this possible?”
“What?” She asked, suddenly worried.
He evaded her question, “Where did you get this mark?”
He sniffed at her rump. She peered across at the mysterious whorl. When did I….?
“I….I don’t know,” she looked up at him.
He stared at her long and hard. “How old are you?”
“A yearling,” she replied quickly.
His head immediately swung to look at his herdmates. Whispers swept across the herd.
Perline was completely in the dark. What is going on?
“You might join our herd. What is your name?”
“Perline.” “Welcome to the herd Perline Arlem,” he bowed to her.
She bowed back to him.
The seasons quickly passed and they made their yearly migration to the winter grounds. Perline wasn’t used to going to these ones however. And immediately, she was taken to a forest….for a vigil.
“Why must I take this vigil?” She asked as her and Nero traipsed through the forest. She was very unnerved.
“You will save us.” He said dully.
“How so?”
Nero sighed. “We haven’t had a chosen yearling in two years.”
Perline was confused. What’s a ‘chosen yearling’? She thought. She didn’t ask however.
They came upon a grand oak tree where Perline was dropped off. The only thing she knew was not to talk, eat, or drink anything until Nero came back.
Yes, and how long will that be? Nothing had really been specified.
Darkness fell and with great confusion, she laid down to sleep. The next morning, her stomach growled horribly and the temptation to eat was great. But she held out.
A trickle of water caught her attention. She looked behind the oak tree to sea a ditch of water bubbling at the edge of a clearing. She took a step forward, but stopped herself. No. I’m not going to let Nero down.
So, she lay in the frosty grass, bored as ever. At about mid afternoon, she heard a crackling in the brush. She jumped to her feet, heart pounding. She let herself relax when Nero came out of the bushes. He was smiling at her.
“Good job, Perline! You have successfully completed your vigil. And now, look!” He nodded to the great oak. She hadn’t paid much attention to it, but it was sagging, and it weeped horribly of sap and, oh the scars. But suddenly, the sag melted away and the weeping subsided.
“You’ve saved us.”
She looked over to Nero, confused, but a smile stretched across her muzzle. She had no idea what this tree did, but it was very important to Nero and the Arlem herd. |
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Nero Arlem
He sighed. He was far from the herd. It was almost his time and he wished nothing more but space from the others.
His life felt empty, incomplete, and unsolid. He didn’t wish to leave the world. No, not yet. He stood, but his strength was leaving him. Quickly. His became light headed as he made to stand, and fell to the ground again.
I wished for a foal to be chosen and succeed. But Kora…. He thought on it, bringing a tear to his eye.
As he shut his eyes, a sudden heat fell upon him. It felt as though it were suffocating him. And suddenly, he was standing in front of the Vigil Tree.
What the-! He looked up at the tree. It was like he had gone back in time. This was when he had first became lead stallion. He had prayed to the Vigil Tree. He wasn’t moving his lips, but his words echoed across the clearing, “I wish to keep all of them safe. And all of my foals safe. I pray that all of them are successful and serve you well.”
But he was thrown away before he could listen anymore. He was standing in front of Eliah, his main mistress. There she lay, a colt in the crook of her stomach. Nero’s first son, Maiika. He would be lead stallion after he passed this day. His wonderful son would lead the herd into battle strongly and would be the father of many foals.He smiled to himself as he looked down at the mahogany colt, a blaze on his little nose.
Again, he was thrown. Forward this time. His second foal. Another colt. He was foaled by a different mare named Sera. She had been an older mare who wanted a son who would live. So he granted that to her. But before, a son of hers had broken the vigil of the Vigil Tree. She had remained cursed until death. Both her and her son passed away on the same day.
Nero had been torn. A tear slid down his cheek as he looked down at the little black and white paint. He was so thin and sickly looking in birth. “Wait!” He cried as he went back, to a skirmish between the Arlem and the wolves of Canine Bay.
Again, he spoke, but his lips wouldn’t move. “Momma!” He had still been a foal when the battle had occurred.
He stood behind his mother he couldn’t see her well, she was more of a hazy silhouette then anything. But she stood, rearing as a wolf snarled and jumped at her. Nero watched in horror as the figure of his mother squealed, yelling at him to run as she was thrown to the ground. “Mom!”
He yelled again. But everything was fading….fading away into a warm darkness. Suddenly, the exhaustion was going away. How wonderful it felt. And then, there was nothing. Edited at March 25, 2019 02:34 PM by Phantom Nyxx |
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Big Update!
I will no longer be posting in the forums, everyone! I've decided it's easier to post it as a blog, then as a forum topic!
Everything had been re-uploaded to my blog, and I have fixed a few errors in Perline's story.
My poll has been locked on who I should write about 'cause apparently I can't have two different polls on a similar subject.
Anyway! Here's the link to the blog: https://horseeden.com/blog.php?id=280574&b=1 Edited at March 27, 2019 12:58 PM by Phantom Nyxx |
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