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Welcome to Elenlond, an original medieval fantasy roleplaying forum! We strive for creative, free-form roleplaying, in the hopes of allowing each and every single member the power to achieve their potential.
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| Welcome to Elenlond, an original medieval fantasy forum! We're always looking for new, dedicated members. Elenlond is composed of two continents: Soare and Esiria. Esiria, a land now isolated due to the efforts of the last remaining Goddess, is inaccessible to all beings and lies in the east. Soare, a continent in the west, is composed of three distinct nations: Ashoka, Soto, and Morrim. Lying between the two major continents are the Scattered Isles. Since the dissolution of the pantheon and the fall of the gods, these countries have existed in relative peace and prosperity. But how long will that peace last? Enter Elenlond; Turn the pages and tell your own tale. If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| Tending the Flock; [for Tathy~] | |
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| Topic Started: Feb 1 2009, 01:17 PM (70 Views) | |
| Cain Kaadian | Feb 1 2009, 01:17 PM Post #1 |
 
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Winds licked across the open land, teasing grass and hair alike. Only slight breezes, sharp in their venture but lacking in might, rushed along the ground level at the beings and objects that lingered there. Among the buffetted was a flock of sheep and a small horse herd, accompanied by a man fit to call a statue, and the loyal sheepdog that kept near to his side. The silent guardian barely moved, though his hazel eyes kept a careful watch over the mixed gathering. For each white-wooled creature to wander astray, a sharp whistle was emitted, and the black canine would instantly shoot over to the deserter and guide it back to the rest. Without moving a muscle more than it took to whistle the dog aware, he managed to keep the group in total check, even as the wind threatened to knock his thin body down. Cure was hardly more than a skeleton, for beneath his loose and baggy clothing each rib and vertebrae could be counted without a touch, more than visible beneath the thin layer of skin that adorned it. He lacked muscle mass, and, above that, life, for the meaning of expression was lost on him and he was involuntary to react. Some had come to thought of the silent male as muted, for he seldom dared to speak. Yet here, tending animals, it was clear with each whistle that he did indeed wield a voice- he just neglected to use it. Anyone could see how near to death the boy dwelled: he was little more than bones, without a voice or a living spark. Barely did he eat, lacking the energy or the will to do more than nibble, and seldom did he move; if he died on his feet few would truly be surprised. Yet he still continued to live and breathe, hiring himself out to whatever mundane tasks were asked of him. When he was requested to aid in watching over a herd, Cure couldn't have been happier- not that he showed it at all. Silently, as always were, he accepted the task. So there he was, amidst animals, his only bliss. The black border collie, Shade, was also overjoyed with Cure's recent employment. For once again, his own skills were put to use, and he was able to assist the boy that he had grown so fond of. Nothing could have made Shade happier than to chase and herd the sheep. Unlike Cure, however, the dog openly showed it. His tail wagging with each step, he was having the time of his life. But a third party, unseen, was less than happy. Things were too calm, and too peaceful. Even Cure's weak emotions were irritating the bound beast, whom wanted nothing more than free reign in the body he'd come to inhabit. But the near-death male would allow no such thing. It had been his own mistake in selecting Cure as a host; if only he'd known the determination the abused body still held, he'd have picked a weaker sheep in which to reside his spirit. A body with a weaker will. Alas, there he was trapped and there he was forced to stay. When the day came that his strength had returned him he would bake the broken human alive as revenge for being his captor. Of that, Azar would make certain. Cure, meanwhile, enjoyed the demon's momentary silence, and watched the happy Shade with his usual empty expression. It was a fine day to be a broken man surrounded by the creatures he loved the most. Fine indeed. |
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| Deleted User | Feb 1 2009, 01:48 PM Post #2 |
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Sunlight shone through a dusty window on her pale face, green gold eyes glinting as she peered out at the cerulean sky, puffy white clouds drifting lazily by. She was perfectly still, gold green eyes bright with eagerness at the prospect of running out amongst the the sheep and horses her father kept. Still, she twitched a little and frowned, moving to turn her head, “Ah-father don't pull.” “Hush Tathren and stay still.” Came the gruff reply. He was tall and scruffy, his calloused hands twisting his daughters long auburn hair into a rope braid, though as hard a she tried he could not keep the brown mess from seeming just that: messy. Still, he tie doff the end and stepped back, looking at his word. Tufts of uneven hair stuck out and the shorter layers on the top of her head did as well, almost spiky. He sighed when she didn't speak again and crossed his arms, 'Still going to be cross with me, I see.” Tathren didn't reply, merely stood and smoothed out the front of her simple green sheath dress, the hem of which was a little tattered and hung a good six inches above her knee. She was bare legged, and her reluctance shone in her eyes as she laced the simple sandals up around her calves and tied them in neat bows in the back. She had maintained near silence with her father since his return from market the day before. He had promised her a puppy which she could train to help her herd, instead he came back with news of hired help. “It's not lady-like for girls to have mongrel puppies as pets. Why not a cat or a bird?” He tried, moving over an dholding out Tathren's walking stick to her. She accepted it with gentle hands, she had a grace that was ethereal and an aura around her that spoke of something more than human blood. Green gold eyes met her fathers and, reluctantly, the maiden nodded her head. She knew she wouldn't receive one of these pets. Were she to bring it up again, he would make an excuse as he had since the first day she knew enough words to beg for a pet of her own. The house was small, three rooms, two of which were bedrooms and one of which served as a kitchen and living space. The floor was bare wood with rugs here and there, a few dusty window beside the creaky front door let in light and a fireplace served to warm them at night and in the winter. Pushing open the red door she heard the familiar screech of the hinges and looked back at her father, “Be Careful, Tathren.” It was his usual farewell. “I will be, father.” With that she flitted out the door, springing down the crude wooden steps that lead up to the quaint house. She ran quickly, stretching long legs and vaulting over the gates with a stride similar to that of a deer. Her braid trailed behind her, dead weight to her as she sprinted out of the home. She stopped perched atop a green hill and gazed out at the familiar landscape. Vibrantly green grass and clover in front of her, her red-haired brute of an overprotective father behind her. She used the tall white staff as a walking stick as she resumed movement at a much more reasonable pace. The sheep were calling to one another nearby, the horses snorting and whinnying as they grazed. All heads raised at Tathren's approach and many called in greeting as their familiar Shepard came into view. A black colt bugled and ran on long gangling legs to greet her, thrusting its long face into her hands. Tathren laughed, a musical sound as she pet the youthful stallion's neck and then looked out over the rest of her father's herd. A cool, pleasant breeze chased itself around her, tugging the hem of her dress. It was only morning and yet even now she could tell by noon it would be quite hot out. Finally her green gold eyes caught on cure and she blinked. He was so skinny! Was he ill? Still she shyly toed the ground with her hated sandals. Her father had told her to be pleasant, though had probably given Cure a death threat about touch Tathren. Slowly, nervously, she walked to stand about six feet away from Cure and said in her quiet, odd little voice, “Hello...” |
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| Cain Kaadian | Feb 1 2009, 07:25 PM Post #3 |
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The calm and quiet male stood still, barely drifting amidst the warm bodies that stood scattered about him. Every so often he'd pause and brush a hand over whatever head faced his way, finding peace in their unjudging eyes. Having been abused by people for all of his life, Cure trusted animals the most, and much favored their company over that of his own kind. To be surrounded by animals was his greatest bliss, and so, to him, where he was now was close to heaven. The closest to heaven he'd ever been. His silent world was broken by a chorus of cries around him, each spoken in greeting to a being whose approach was quickly blocked from view by one of the mares. Mildly curious, Cure strode up to the horse, patting her side as he at last came around her front to gaze on at the one coming ever nearer. Seeing another human, though a pretty one, his weak interest quickly wavered and turned back to the dappled mare whom had taken to butting her nose against his side. Each nudge threatened to knock his thin body over, so he made a meek effort to push the good-natured snout away, keeping one hand firmly placed against the horse's head. The other hand found itself needed for another use, as once the colt had broken from the herd to greet his mistress the collie, out of habit, had given chase. With his free hand raised, Cure managed to attract the dog's attention, diverting him away from the happy colt. Shade, upon seeing Cure's raised arm, immediately doubled back, instead turning his attention back to the straying sheep. Cure rolled both his boney shoulders with a shrug, pushing the mare's nose away once more as he slowly moved towards the maiden that had joined him in his watch. His ears caught note of her greeting, to which he offered none but the nod of his head. Azar, naturally, would keep no such silence, and made so evident immediately. "She's a charming little ewe, isn't she? Makes me want to..." The boy narrowed his eyes, feeling his arm grow hot. No matter how much he resisted the demon, Azar's persistance still held some sway over Cure's body, though he had little power unless Cure himself allowed him. All the same, he could not keep the heat from engulfing his arm, tinting the tanned skin with a flush red. Hiding the affliction, Cure pulled his sleeve down fully over it, leaving only his hand open to show its burnt tinge. "Spoil sport." The demon retorted at Cure's actions, allowing the limb to gradually cool. Cure responded only with an aggitated grunt, shaking his head to clear his hair from his eyes. Now both of his empty hazel orbs had view of the fair Tathren, but little difference did it make. Just as was his nature, he made no reply to her- no semblance of interaction. Whatever threat her father may have made on him was aptly wasted: Cure would do nothing anyway. Thus contact was left to the swift-moving shadow that was Shade, whom weaved through the collection of bodies with relative ease, and returned to the side of his friend with his tail wagging. The black canine pressed against Cure's side briefly before sitting obediently at the boy's side. Both of his own dark pools gazed at Tathren, the dog completely unthreatening from even his protective post. There was no reason to fear her if the others did not. So Shade would trust the strange woman beside his silent companion. Perhaps she could entice some life out of his broken shell. |
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