Post by Oxyrrhodine on May 21, 2018 22:14:34 GMT -7
Rylie walked along a familiar path through the free lands, warily keeping up a constant scan of her surroundings. Beside her, Ruairi pressed into her right side, physical contact reassuring both of them. Without taking her focus off of the lands around her, she knew that her young son was also keeping watch, though significantly more fearfully than she was. His blind side was facing her, leaving his good eye free to scan the trees and bushes. The scent of a mountain lion lingered in the air, strong and fresh. “Momma?” Ruairi asked, his voice hushed, barely audible. “Yes, my dear?” Rylie responded, voice warm and affectionate in hopes of soothing her child’s nerves. “What if the lion finds us? What happens then?” His worried tones reached her ears, and she reached over to ruffle his short, fuzzy mane with her muzzle. “Then you get to see your momma fight, that’ll be cool, right?” She replied with much more positivity than she felt, trying to be reassuring. “I guess…” Ruairi responded, a little dubiously. “Should we call Grandma?” He asked. “No, no. It’s just a mountain lion. I’ve handled them before. We can’t call on angels for every problem.” Independence was important to Rylie; she didn’t like relying on others. Possibly because, for a good portion of her life, she’d been living in a harsh landscape without anybody to rely on. She certainly didn’t want her son to grow up to always depend on others for aid. You never knew when they’d disappear on you. Like her mother, swept away by a flood, who had only recently shown up again as an angel. Or, more recently, like Cathair, Ruairi’s father. She’d been tentatively hoping that her first talk with him, and the events that followed, had been the start of a friendship, maybe even something more. But he was gone, first involuntarily, a captive of the Dark King. Since then, though, the last she had seen of him was a brief, distant sighting on the battlefield. Even now that the Helkaer no longer occupied the Neutral Kingdom, he was simply gone. A new king had been chosen in his absence, or at least that had been the news traveling the free lands. Rylie herself had been absent, first trying to plan a way to help overthrow the Helkaer, then, when they had seemingly left on their own terms, just wandering, reluctant to join any sort of herd. She’d given birth with her mother for guidance and, in the month since then, had been simply trying to keep herself and Ruairi alive and healthy. She was, honestly, a bit bitter that Cathair had disappeared. But her mother had managed to raise her without assistance in an environment much harsher than this, so Rylie accepted the challenge of doing the same.
A rustling from some nearby brambles caught Rylie’s attention, and she felt Ruairi press even closer against her side, his small frame shaking. The strawberry roan mare’s hazel eyes were wary, but also curious. Usually, a mountain lion wouldn’t make so much noise unless there was something wrong with it. Her nostrils flared with a sharp inhalation, but the breeze was traveling the wrong way for her to tell what was coming by scent. She took up a defensive stance, ears turning backward. Her attention was still slightly divided; most of her focus was on the bush, but she also continued to be aware of the rest of her surroundings. If the thing in the bushes wasn’t the cat, that meant it could still be nearby. But the creature that emerged from the bushes wasn’t a predator at all. It was a filly, less than a year old, small but clearly significantly older than her son, silver grullo with patches of white. She limped, a set of deep gashes in the shape of a lion’s claws bleeding on her left hind leg, making her unwilling to put weight on it. Her eyes were wide, her body language tense with pain and fear. Rylie watched as she cast her gaze around frantically, saw Rylie and tensed even further, then saw Ruairi and sagged slightly with relief. Before Rylie could speak, the filly was talking. “Hello,” she began, taking a few deep breaths, clearly trying to sound mature and composed despite her fear. “I, um…” a pause, like the words were hard to say. “I think I need some help.”
Ruairi, who had relaxed as soon as he had seen another young horse coming out of the bushes, replied before Rylie could. “Don’t worry! We’ll help you! I’m Ruairi and my momma is Rylie! What happened to your leg?” he asked, with childish exuberance and curiosity. The filly, Rylie thought, might’ve looked slightly envious, though it was hard to tell beneath the composure that she was trying to hold over her fear and pain. Tough little girl, Rylie thought approvingly. The filly blinked, looking slightly caught off guard. “Looks like a mountain lion to me. Is that right?” Rylie asked, trying to sound confident and gentle, hiding the beginnings of internal panic. Now she had two children to look after! It was hard enough keeping just one safe! Especially when she still often felt rather young and inexperienced herself. She paid close attention to their surroundings as she listened for the filly’s answer. “Yes, that’s right. Thank you both. My name is Giavonna.” The youth limped closer, and Rylie could see that she was covered in small scratches from the thorny bush that she’d apparently been hiding in. “Well, I wish that we could’ve met under better circumstances, Giavonna,” Rylie said, tone wry as she spoke with playful formality. “Do you have a parent or a herd around here?” Hopefully there was a guardian nearby. Rylie didn’t need two foals to take care of, and now she felt responsible for getting Giavonna to safety. The silver grullo tobiano shook her head. “I’ve been staying with a mare called Gaia, but she’s pretty far away. I’m looking for one of my sisters. Her name is Ellamae. She’s a silver dunalino roan tovero, the same age as me. Have you seen her? Or heard of her?” Rylie shook her head gently. “I have not, but Ruairi and I will keep our eyes and ears out.” Giavonna must have been used to this answer, as she looked slightly disappointed but not particularly surprised. “That’s right!” Ruiari added. “’Cept I’ll only keep one eye out. Can’t do both of them.” He turned slightly to show the filly his milky eye, earning a small smile from her. The breeze shifted, and the scent of mountain lion was stronger, closer than it had been before.
“Come on, we should get moving. Need to find some water and get your leg cleaned up.” Rylie said, trying to be casual and sound like the confident adult. Two panicky children was the last thing she needed. She could tell that Giavonna had smelled it too. When Ruairi was a bit older, she would have to teach him to pay attention to things like this. They were in a narrow meadow, most of the grass still short, growing back from winter, with forest on either side. Rylie moved a bit closer to the forested side on her left, Ruairi falling into his usual position at her right side. “Giavonna, could you walk on Ruairi’s right?” The strawberry roan mare asked, hopefully casually. Giavonna nodded seriously and was quick to obey, though she winced with every stride. If the lion struck from her left, it would encounter her first. If it came from the right, it would be visible in the short grass for long enough that she could get between it and the children. The short grass was also on their side if it came from the front or the rear. Or at least that was the way Rylie hoped it would work out. There were usually more horses ahead where the meadow opened up further. Once there, it would be easier to find safety in numbers. It was slow going with Giavonna’s injured leg, though, and Rylie forced herself to not rush or grow impatient. She had to be calm in order to protect the three of them. She scanned their surroundings constantly, alert to every sound and hint of movement. Beside her, when she glanced in that direction, she could see Giavonna trying to do the same, though her wounded leg took a great deal of her focus. Sandwiched securely between them, and in the company of what Rylie knew he thought of as a potential new friend, Ruairi was also watching what he could see of their surroundings closely, but he was perkier than before, probably starting to think of this as an adventure. “Gi-vonna?” He broke the silence. “Where are your parents?” Rylie winced. They really needed to work on the concept of appropriate questions. “Ruairi,” she said warningly, but she was too distracted by the lurking danger to really have this talk right now. “My dad was never really in the picture,” Giavonna said flatly. “And my mom is dead,” that one sounded like it stung a bit more, though the filly tried not to let it show. “Mine too,” Rylie replied, with both sympathy and morbid humor. “And my dad isn’t around either.” Ruairi added. “But grandma came back as an angel, so maybe your momma will do that too!” Giavonna looked doubtful, but anything she was about to say was cut off by a snarl from Rylie’s left.
Rylie turned, barely in time, her flailing front hooves catching the pouncing lion. She winced, feeling its claws catch the outside of her left foreleg as it was knocked sideways. “Get to the center of the meadow!” she yelled to the foals, too busy to devote attention to seeing how deep her wound was. The cat had landed on its feet to Rylie’s left, and she saw it preparing to bound toward the children. She had a momentary glimpse of Ruairi frozen in terror, Giavonna trying to shepherd him on, before she was pivoting on her forelegs, pain shooting through the fresh wound and a shallower ache coming from her old injury on her lower leg. Her hind hooves lashed out at the lion, aiming for its head. Her intended aim was off, though, clipping the front of the cat’s chest instead. It was enough to knock it to the ground, stunning it for a couple scant seconds, which Rylie used to turn to face it again. Ears pinned, she charged the beast, intending to trample it, but it was quick to roll out of the way, regaining its footing and leaping for Rylie’s back from her right. She turned so it caught her shoulder instead, crying out in pain as both sets of front claws sank into her muscle. She bucked and reared, leaping into the air to try to dislodge it, then, when that wasn’t effective, turned her head to strike at the back of its neck with her teeth. It turned its head to meet her, snarling, but the distraction loosened its grip, which became even weaker with another twisting, leaping buck. As it tried to readjust, deepening her wounds, she whirled to her right, slamming the creature hard against the sturdy trunk of a large tree. Stunned, it dropped to the ground and staggered away, Rylie chasing it back into the trees.
Then she turned to the children, where Ruairi had his head buried against Giavonna’s shoulder. “It’s gone now,” she said, a little shakily, barely holding back a string of profanities as the pain from her wounds hit her. The one on her left leg was shallow, a superficial scratch. Her right shoulder, though she couldn’t see it well, seemed to be a different story. “Momma!” Ruairi cried, running to her. The two of them nuzzled each other. “You’re hurt! That looks really bad!” He was frightened, tears beginning to run down his face. Rylie gently wiped them away. “I’ll heal,” she said gently. If it didn’t happen naturally, Aubrie could heal, right? “What matters is that the mountain lion is gone, and that you’re safe. Both of you.” She gave Giavonna a significant look, turning her attention to her. “Thank you for looking after my son. I guess we both have wounds to clean now.” Sincerity easily shifted to a wry comment. “Thank you for protecting me.” Giavonna replied. “Are we still going to the same place?” She said, clearly practical. Rylie grinned despite her pain. She liked this filly. “Yes we are. Shall we limp our way over there?” She joked, her natural manner that she hoped would also put Ruairi at ease. The three began walking, two of them limping, Ruairi bouncing around them to wear off nervous energy. They found a river to wash their wounds in, the waters cold and clean, Giavonna helping with the wounds on Rylie’s shoulder where she couldn’t reach and Ruairi was too scared to touch. Rylie wished she knew more about the herbs that grew here. She’d known about useful plants in the desert, but not in any environment within a reasonable walking distance. From there, Giavonna began to head back to her guardian and to her other sister, politely turning down Ruairi’s offer of companionship. Rylie hoped that they would meet again someday.
Characters: Rylie pov, featuring Ruairi and Giavonna
Timeline: Ruairi is about a month old, Giavonna is like 9 months, probably not canon because I kind of just guessed at would would be happening with war stuff. (And also because their ages wouldn't actually line up like that.)
Words: 2,231
Bonuses Attempted
Mama/Papa Bear
Young Blood (if non-pov characters count)
Just a Scratch - Giavonna's leg, Rylie's shoulder
You Talk too Much
Multiple Characters (two additional characters)
Bonus Go-Getter (If Young Blood counts)
2231 words, so...
500 words
800 words
1,000 words
1,500 words
1,800 words
2,000 words
A rustling from some nearby brambles caught Rylie’s attention, and she felt Ruairi press even closer against her side, his small frame shaking. The strawberry roan mare’s hazel eyes were wary, but also curious. Usually, a mountain lion wouldn’t make so much noise unless there was something wrong with it. Her nostrils flared with a sharp inhalation, but the breeze was traveling the wrong way for her to tell what was coming by scent. She took up a defensive stance, ears turning backward. Her attention was still slightly divided; most of her focus was on the bush, but she also continued to be aware of the rest of her surroundings. If the thing in the bushes wasn’t the cat, that meant it could still be nearby. But the creature that emerged from the bushes wasn’t a predator at all. It was a filly, less than a year old, small but clearly significantly older than her son, silver grullo with patches of white. She limped, a set of deep gashes in the shape of a lion’s claws bleeding on her left hind leg, making her unwilling to put weight on it. Her eyes were wide, her body language tense with pain and fear. Rylie watched as she cast her gaze around frantically, saw Rylie and tensed even further, then saw Ruairi and sagged slightly with relief. Before Rylie could speak, the filly was talking. “Hello,” she began, taking a few deep breaths, clearly trying to sound mature and composed despite her fear. “I, um…” a pause, like the words were hard to say. “I think I need some help.”
Ruairi, who had relaxed as soon as he had seen another young horse coming out of the bushes, replied before Rylie could. “Don’t worry! We’ll help you! I’m Ruairi and my momma is Rylie! What happened to your leg?” he asked, with childish exuberance and curiosity. The filly, Rylie thought, might’ve looked slightly envious, though it was hard to tell beneath the composure that she was trying to hold over her fear and pain. Tough little girl, Rylie thought approvingly. The filly blinked, looking slightly caught off guard. “Looks like a mountain lion to me. Is that right?” Rylie asked, trying to sound confident and gentle, hiding the beginnings of internal panic. Now she had two children to look after! It was hard enough keeping just one safe! Especially when she still often felt rather young and inexperienced herself. She paid close attention to their surroundings as she listened for the filly’s answer. “Yes, that’s right. Thank you both. My name is Giavonna.” The youth limped closer, and Rylie could see that she was covered in small scratches from the thorny bush that she’d apparently been hiding in. “Well, I wish that we could’ve met under better circumstances, Giavonna,” Rylie said, tone wry as she spoke with playful formality. “Do you have a parent or a herd around here?” Hopefully there was a guardian nearby. Rylie didn’t need two foals to take care of, and now she felt responsible for getting Giavonna to safety. The silver grullo tobiano shook her head. “I’ve been staying with a mare called Gaia, but she’s pretty far away. I’m looking for one of my sisters. Her name is Ellamae. She’s a silver dunalino roan tovero, the same age as me. Have you seen her? Or heard of her?” Rylie shook her head gently. “I have not, but Ruairi and I will keep our eyes and ears out.” Giavonna must have been used to this answer, as she looked slightly disappointed but not particularly surprised. “That’s right!” Ruiari added. “’Cept I’ll only keep one eye out. Can’t do both of them.” He turned slightly to show the filly his milky eye, earning a small smile from her. The breeze shifted, and the scent of mountain lion was stronger, closer than it had been before.
“Come on, we should get moving. Need to find some water and get your leg cleaned up.” Rylie said, trying to be casual and sound like the confident adult. Two panicky children was the last thing she needed. She could tell that Giavonna had smelled it too. When Ruairi was a bit older, she would have to teach him to pay attention to things like this. They were in a narrow meadow, most of the grass still short, growing back from winter, with forest on either side. Rylie moved a bit closer to the forested side on her left, Ruairi falling into his usual position at her right side. “Giavonna, could you walk on Ruairi’s right?” The strawberry roan mare asked, hopefully casually. Giavonna nodded seriously and was quick to obey, though she winced with every stride. If the lion struck from her left, it would encounter her first. If it came from the right, it would be visible in the short grass for long enough that she could get between it and the children. The short grass was also on their side if it came from the front or the rear. Or at least that was the way Rylie hoped it would work out. There were usually more horses ahead where the meadow opened up further. Once there, it would be easier to find safety in numbers. It was slow going with Giavonna’s injured leg, though, and Rylie forced herself to not rush or grow impatient. She had to be calm in order to protect the three of them. She scanned their surroundings constantly, alert to every sound and hint of movement. Beside her, when she glanced in that direction, she could see Giavonna trying to do the same, though her wounded leg took a great deal of her focus. Sandwiched securely between them, and in the company of what Rylie knew he thought of as a potential new friend, Ruairi was also watching what he could see of their surroundings closely, but he was perkier than before, probably starting to think of this as an adventure. “Gi-vonna?” He broke the silence. “Where are your parents?” Rylie winced. They really needed to work on the concept of appropriate questions. “Ruairi,” she said warningly, but she was too distracted by the lurking danger to really have this talk right now. “My dad was never really in the picture,” Giavonna said flatly. “And my mom is dead,” that one sounded like it stung a bit more, though the filly tried not to let it show. “Mine too,” Rylie replied, with both sympathy and morbid humor. “And my dad isn’t around either.” Ruairi added. “But grandma came back as an angel, so maybe your momma will do that too!” Giavonna looked doubtful, but anything she was about to say was cut off by a snarl from Rylie’s left.
Rylie turned, barely in time, her flailing front hooves catching the pouncing lion. She winced, feeling its claws catch the outside of her left foreleg as it was knocked sideways. “Get to the center of the meadow!” she yelled to the foals, too busy to devote attention to seeing how deep her wound was. The cat had landed on its feet to Rylie’s left, and she saw it preparing to bound toward the children. She had a momentary glimpse of Ruairi frozen in terror, Giavonna trying to shepherd him on, before she was pivoting on her forelegs, pain shooting through the fresh wound and a shallower ache coming from her old injury on her lower leg. Her hind hooves lashed out at the lion, aiming for its head. Her intended aim was off, though, clipping the front of the cat’s chest instead. It was enough to knock it to the ground, stunning it for a couple scant seconds, which Rylie used to turn to face it again. Ears pinned, she charged the beast, intending to trample it, but it was quick to roll out of the way, regaining its footing and leaping for Rylie’s back from her right. She turned so it caught her shoulder instead, crying out in pain as both sets of front claws sank into her muscle. She bucked and reared, leaping into the air to try to dislodge it, then, when that wasn’t effective, turned her head to strike at the back of its neck with her teeth. It turned its head to meet her, snarling, but the distraction loosened its grip, which became even weaker with another twisting, leaping buck. As it tried to readjust, deepening her wounds, she whirled to her right, slamming the creature hard against the sturdy trunk of a large tree. Stunned, it dropped to the ground and staggered away, Rylie chasing it back into the trees.
Then she turned to the children, where Ruairi had his head buried against Giavonna’s shoulder. “It’s gone now,” she said, a little shakily, barely holding back a string of profanities as the pain from her wounds hit her. The one on her left leg was shallow, a superficial scratch. Her right shoulder, though she couldn’t see it well, seemed to be a different story. “Momma!” Ruairi cried, running to her. The two of them nuzzled each other. “You’re hurt! That looks really bad!” He was frightened, tears beginning to run down his face. Rylie gently wiped them away. “I’ll heal,” she said gently. If it didn’t happen naturally, Aubrie could heal, right? “What matters is that the mountain lion is gone, and that you’re safe. Both of you.” She gave Giavonna a significant look, turning her attention to her. “Thank you for looking after my son. I guess we both have wounds to clean now.” Sincerity easily shifted to a wry comment. “Thank you for protecting me.” Giavonna replied. “Are we still going to the same place?” She said, clearly practical. Rylie grinned despite her pain. She liked this filly. “Yes we are. Shall we limp our way over there?” She joked, her natural manner that she hoped would also put Ruairi at ease. The three began walking, two of them limping, Ruairi bouncing around them to wear off nervous energy. They found a river to wash their wounds in, the waters cold and clean, Giavonna helping with the wounds on Rylie’s shoulder where she couldn’t reach and Ruairi was too scared to touch. Rylie wished she knew more about the herbs that grew here. She’d known about useful plants in the desert, but not in any environment within a reasonable walking distance. From there, Giavonna began to head back to her guardian and to her other sister, politely turning down Ruairi’s offer of companionship. Rylie hoped that they would meet again someday.
Characters: Rylie pov, featuring Ruairi and Giavonna
Timeline: Ruairi is about a month old, Giavonna is like 9 months, probably not canon because I kind of just guessed at would would be happening with war stuff. (And also because their ages wouldn't actually line up like that.)
Words: 2,231
Bonuses Attempted
Mama/Papa Bear
Young Blood (if non-pov characters count)
Just a Scratch - Giavonna's leg, Rylie's shoulder
You Talk too Much
Multiple Characters (two additional characters)
Bonus Go-Getter (If Young Blood counts)
2231 words, so...
500 words
800 words
1,000 words
1,500 words
1,800 words
2,000 words
