husky's ramblings

[husky.]

lil place to put some writing stuff c;

[husky.]

balios was overheated. not just a little sweaty after a workout hot, not a warm glow after sunbathing for a few hours; no, he was a hurtling-towards-the-sun kind of hot, and he needed relief now.

he desperately searched for anything that might cool him off. he normally loved the dark and brooding look his smoky black coat gave him, but during summer it was the worst, i hate it, ugh! his flanks and neck were slick with sweat and his belly tickled with droplets of perspiration. kicking sand up onto his body and rolling did not alleviate this torture; no, it made it worse! what was he to do?

he hurried over to a tree as quickly as he could in the blistering heat, tossing his dripping mane from his neck. he scratched against the trunk, and oh! the feeling was great, but his flanks were still itchy from the vast quantity of perspiration on him. he swiveled his rump in order to rub his side against the tree bark, and it was so good to itch, but still his neck was again needing an itch! and his back! and his belly! ahhh it won't stop, i need to get not-sweaty!

he walked across the pasture, the rays of the sun seeming to permeate his entire being as he pursued relief to his predicament. he was so blisteringly hot that he couldn't think straight - what did he usually do on hot summer days? the answer wouldn't come to him, so he continued his crusade across the pasture until he stumbled across persephone dozing in the shade of a tree.

'percy! help!' cried balios feebly as he approached. 'i'm so hot i can't think straight.'

persephone barely lifted her head as she regarded him. balios's appearance was raggedy: apart from being sticky and drenched in sweat, his mane stuck up at odd angles, he had sand caked in the hair under his belly and in patches everywhere, and pieces of tree bark were lodged in his tail.

one eyebrow raised and a curt 'what happened to you, kid?' was the immediate answer persephone gave. seeing his alarm and obvious discomfort, percy snorted and gave him a characteristic glare. 'you really can't think of the simplest way to cool down? are there any brains knocking about in that head of yours?'

balios shifted his weight from one foot to the other, choosing to ignore the older mare's remark. she was the wrong pony to ask for advice, but also the only one around. 'no, i guess not! please help me, pretty please? i'm begging you, i need to cool off before i burn into a crisp or itch all the hair off my body!'

percy snorted derisively. 'water, you goose,' she answered. at his incredulous expression, she rolled her eyes before elaborating.
'go for a swim! take a dive into the pond! seriously, i can't believe you haven't thought of the most obvious thing.'

balios had a eureka moment. that was it! the pond! how did he not think of that? 'thanks so much, percy, you're a lifesaver! seriously, i owe you one," he called as he jogged off at the fastest pace he could without keeling over and giving in to the merciless sun. percy stomped a hoof impatiently. 'yeah, yeah, no worries and all. now get out of my mane, i'm trying to snooze,' but balios was already out of earshot.

the dishevelled and heat-struck young stallion staggered in the direction he thought was the pond. he was just imagining the cool waves of crystal-clear water washing away all his worries when he suddenly dropped off into nothingness. as he fell, balios felt like an eternity was passing by. thoughts rushed through his head: this is it, i'm dead. everything I've done will have been for nothing. my favourite patch of grass will be claimed by some other lucky pony, my nice halter will be given away - and I never got to the po--! all of this was quickly replaced by a chilling shock and a sudden feeling of weightlessness as he plunged, headfirst, into the pond.

two tolters stood on the opposite side of the body of water, letting their feet soak in the mud under the shade of a willow tree. they looked up lazily as a dark pony fell straight into the pond, and balios scrambled to the surface of the water, hooves kicking up crystalline droplets and sending ripples dancing across the water. the reeds clustered around the water's edge rustled as they were disturbed, and floating lily pads bobbed up and down. one of the tolters, vesper, let out a deep breath. 'he's had a rough day,' he mumbled to alois, standing beside him. 'mhm,' was her reply, and they both went back to what they were doing.

balios was in heaven. he splashed around and whinnied to his heart's content. i made it to the pond! he was drenched, and his ears were soggy, but the relief he felt from the heat of the day was immense. no longer was he itchy and at the mercy of the harsh sun, but in the soft, enveloping embrace of the pond, washing away all thoughts of discomfort in the world. he was, admittedly, a little clumsy - he walked right off the high bank of the pond and straight down into the water - but it was certainly the fastest way to get in.

balios revelled in this feeling, thinking that swimming in this pond was the best thing in summer. he never wanted to leave.

total words: 928

[husky.]

theme: June 11-18 2017: It's summer! Draw or write about your Tolter doing their favourite Summer activity!

helewys loves a beach run.

living relatively close to the ocean, one would think that she had ample opportunity to get out on the sand for a frolic. alas, she rarely set foot on the beach, especially during the cooler months when it was bitterly cold down near the water. now, however, it was summer, and the tide was high: beach time.

helewys waited patiently for her rider to come to her. patience was not her strongest trait, but she knew when it was best to exercise restraint. the light-coloured mare spotted her rider striding towards her down the grassy laneway between the paddocks, her colourful halter in hand. other tolters cavorted in their fields, playing and grazing and just being horses. helewys kept her eyes and ears trained on her rider, standing still and calm, muscles relaxed but ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. helewys quite fancied herself a war horse trapped in the body of a pony. she wasn't the biggest tolter around, but her stocky build and direct manner of addressing others lent her a certain strength that commanded respect, and she often used this to her advantage.

as her rider opened the gate and lead her towards the barn, helewys stepped out proudly. her heart was light and her hooves felt lighter - she could barely contain her anticipation of the beach ride she knew was to come. her rider had promised it all spring, and now was the perfect opportunity. the day was clear and warm, if a little breezy. it would be blowing a gale down at the water's edge, but helewys loved it even more for that fact.

a quick, thorough groom and tack-up by her rider's knowledgeable hand meant that the pair were out and on the trail to the beach in no time at all. as they kept to a brisk walk to the outer edge of the property, helewys spotted barden and his rider returning from a ride in the wooded bush that adjoined the land. helewys wouldn't lie if confronted about taking a fancy to barden, nor would she openly admit it. she found the hardened, black horse an enigma that both puzzled and intrigued her. when they reached the edge of the open area and headed into the bushy track, helewys finally turned her attention back to the exciting task ahead of her.

the scraggly trees around them dampened some of the wind, but helewys could still hear it blowing overhead and battering the dunes near the water. the mixture of sand and soil under foot was soft and spongy, absorbing any noise her shoes might have made as they neared the beach. she could smell the salt on the wind now, and almost taste it. the scruffy trees brushed her rump as they came out into the open, the full force of the wind ramming them as if to turn them away. but helewys was not afraid of a bit of wind, and her rider likewise urged her down the final part of the path and onto the heavenly, golden sand.

helewys broke into a jog as they went down to the water. the sand was firm under her hooves here, and tiny purple crabs scuttled into hiding as they passed. helewys barely noted that they were almost the colour of her eyes before her rider gathered a clump of her mane and squeezed her sides, causing helewys to rear up a little before plunging down the beach. all of a sudden, they were off, and this was the moment helewys had been waiting for.

her hooves thudded, as loud as her pumping heart in her ears, as they galloped across the sand. leaving a trail of deep grooves and flying sand in their wake, they tore up the beach at a breakneck pace. the wind buffeted them, but helewys took no notice of its strength as she cut through it on her way to the far end of the beach. the sheer noise of hooves and wind and heart was enough to give helewys a thrill, and she felt as if she was bearing down on the enemy in a beachfront battle of ancient times, and she was leading the charge. helewys was no longer a mere horse, but a valiant steed carrying her knight into the fray, ready to utilise her strength and ferocity to strike fear into their enemies' hearts.

all too soon, it was over. they had rounded the golden crescent of beach and come to the end of the bay. rocky cliffs rose ahead of them, looming and stark against the blue of the sky. this rugged barrier was not something helewys would conquer today. she slowed her pace and her rider sat back in the saddle, laughing out of excitement or relief helewys was not sure. looking back at where they had come, the track leading back to the farm was almost indistinguishable from the rest of the trees topping the sand dunes. there was no one else on the beach, and barely any foot or hoof prints to show that they were not the only two beings alive in the world. a gull screeched overhead, and helewys smirked to herself. almost the only beings in the world.

they splashed through the shallow, choppy water on their way back to the track. the gale had settled now and a refreshing breeze had replaced it. helewys's sweaty neck and sides were cooled off in the water, and she snorted contentedly. her rider struck up a song, and the happy tune washed over them and sent helewys's mind wandering to faraway places: a young maiden in royal purple silks astride her stunning pale mare in matching regalia, floating across the water as they traversed the beach towards their castle atop the hill. she was comforted and saddened by this image, knowing that it would never be, but she found that what she had was quite good enough for her; and she smiled.

total words: 1,001

[husky.]

[klepto]

klepto had free rein of the barn. or rather, he had taken it.

letting himself out of a paddock or stable was easy enough with the right method. klepto was no trickster, but he had skill and cunning to boot. at precisely 5:30am, for he likes to be on time, the bolt on klepto's stable door slid open with a clunk. before anyone had yet arisen from their slumber, the rooster had barely warmed up his vocal chords, and the night creatures were settling in for the day, klepto was wide awake.

making as little sound as possible, klepto stepped out into the vast aisle of the barn. his shoes tinkled on the brickwork as he made his way towards the huge rolling doors that led to the outside world. halfway there, he stopped suddenly -- something had caught his eye. he craned his neck down to the ground, and spotted a small curry comb lying near the wall.

ambling closer to it, klepto saw light grey hairs stuck in the bristles. the nameplate on the stable door above him read 'amberley' in cursive writing. the gold plate shone faintly in the early rays of sun filtering down through the skylights, washing the barn in a soft glow. klepto heard grumbling from inside the stall. 'who's awake at this time?' a grouchy voice asked incredulously, followed by a yawn. 'go back to bed.'

a few minutes later, klepto had appeared in the feed room. in the gloomy light, he spied buckets and sacks and bags of all sorts, piled neatly against wooden crates. he nosed between them, searching for something specific... aha! a bag of licorice treats, his favourite. he paused only to munch on one... maybe two... before continuing on his mission.

he now found himself at the spacious tack room, accommodating saddles, bridles, martingales, lead ropes, halters, brushes, shampoos - too many things to count. he brushed by the polished leather goods and bright coloured saddle blankets, the metal bits and buckles tinkling as they were disturbed. klepto looked around, unimpressed at the neat racks of tack. with a snort, he left the room.

klepto now found himself confronted by the wide sliding doors of the barn. it was made of solid timber planks, and someone had nailed horseshoes into it 'for luck'. klepto sniffed around the door, looking for the latch to open it. as soon as he found it, he methodically nudged the door until there was a gap wide enough for him to shove his head and neck through, and from there it was easy for him to shoulder it open the rest of the way. it slid back smoothly, letting sunlight pour into the barn aisle. klepto's shadow was cast behind him long and distorted, as he stepped out of the barn to find...

'gotcha! klepto, you cheeky lad! are you playing houdini again?' one of the friendly grooms greeted him as soon as he took a step outside, hands on their hips. klepto tried to look as innocent as possible, looking around as if they might've made a mistake calling him out like this, though they saw right through him. it wasn't the first time he had pulled this trick, and it wouldn't be the last. the groom took a handful of his mane and tugged him back towards the barn, letting him snag a few mouthfuls of grass by the path before they went back in.

klepto ground the grass happily as he was escorted back to his stall, not entirely unhappy about being caught. he hadn't made any plans for once he did make it outside, anyway. they finally reached his open stall and the groom stopped in their tracks as they took in the sight before them.

'klepto!' their surprise was warranted. all manner of bits and bobs were strewn about the stall, from brushes, tail bags, ropes, treats, amberley's curry comb, a foal blanket, polo wraps (completely unraveled, of course), a sheepskin pad, a jumping boot, and someone's helmet. it was a decent effort, klepto thought proudly, his best collection yet. he snickered at the groom as they slapped him good-naturedly on the neck before beginning to clean up his mess.

'guess you can't help it, eh bud?' laughed the groom. 'you had to get your name from somewhere.'

if klepto could give a devious smile, he would have.

total words: 729

[husky.]

theme: July 10-17: Chilling by the pool is the best! Draw or write about your Tolter swimming in a pool or just laying out!

dave was a master of chilling. relaxed in nature, yet as far from lazy as possible, he knew how to put his free time to good use.

wip

[husky.]

At the best of times, Sirena was a handful. It took a hard hand and strong seat to wrestle this lady into submission, but Lou didn't want to become like many other riders out there, goading their horses to do as they wished with little thought to their wellbeing. Lou believed that she could work with Sirena, not against, to bring out the best in both of them.

With these high hopes in her heart, Lou collected Sirena's halter and headed out to her paddock. As usual, the bright mare was more than happy to trot over jauntily, taking up the half carrot offered to her. Sirena was a polite but brazen mare, and Lou had to take big steps to match her pace down the laneway to the barn. Sirena observed her surroundings with apparent confidence, ears pricked but not alarmed at anything, even when a flock of ducks blew noisily overhead.

Tacking up went as it usually did: efficiently, with every action done habitually. Lou brushed Sirena down, taking care to avoid being nipped in the butt when her back was turned - this had only recently developed into something Sirena did, and Lou was trying her best to 'nip' this in the bud before it became a lifelong nuisance. She was sure that Sirena did this playfully, or out of boredom, but Lou did no appreciate the gesture. After a brisk brush down, the saddle and bridle were put on quickly, and an annoyed tail swish and head shake were elicited of Sirena when the girth was tightened. Lou walked the mare to the mounting block and swept onto her with ease, gathering the reins and gently steering Sirena away from the grass she was trying to nibble on.

Heading onto the sandy outdoor arena, just being vacated by a pair of riders on sweaty horses, Lou had Sirena stretch her neck long and low. The warm up consisted of a loose, forward walk and some neck stretches before moving on to a working trot. Sirena took a few glances over the arena fence at the neighbouring paddocks

wip

[husky.]

500

- caverns, tsunamis, jewels, short nights, moons
- formed through a close-knit bloom of 3, born of the stars
- rumoured that the vices watched him
- sparkling white water - immortality
- claimed a human while possessed by evil, wreaked havoc together, wild
- human weapon of chry's electrified hair
- human died, evil was forced out as he realised wrongdoings
- greying colour, becoming more 'pure white'

traveler

Some say Tiber was born as many other basilisks were - a second birth, the foal no more special than the next. Yet others claim that the grizzled Chry burst forth onto Lucent, alone and wandering, almost as he is now, with the five vices to watch over him. There is no story to his appearance, yet Tiber is no ordinary Chry.

Some rumours are true, and others merely falsehoods to discredit or even apotheosise him. A Chysaora bloom burst into existence, during one of those short nights on Lucent, and three forms smaller than usual appeared at the manifestation of imminent doom. The humans were on a course towards war amongst each other, and every creature on the planet was waiting with bated breath, the scales of order and balance tipping towards chaos. Tsunamis thrashed the land, and caverns fell in with unusual regularity. It was then that Tiber first came.

As he took his first steps, Tiber's mind was at work. While his two companions, like him in their striking appearance, sought their first evil, Tiber's mind was at work. Where had he come from? What was his purpose? He studied the land upon which they gallivanted, accompanying the others as they became accustomed to their new bodies. They were lithe, powerful, if still lacking in size - experience would age them, time would swell their bodies to godly proportions. The band came to know each other in a grudging way, feeding off each other's excitement and elation at finding the vapours of parasites, black as pitch, that would sustain them. They grew quickly initially, finding greater evils as they came closer to the domain of the humans.

It was at this point that Tiber had come to realise that to give in to impulse is to lose. His partners were evidence of this, becoming monsters of their own desires, sent crazy by the hunt and a good feed. Tiber, although a part of the band, felt detached for some odd reason. His instincts called him to go wild and let loose, yet his mind, his clever, empirical mind, was always at work; always wondering, always curious, always learning.

It was after they caught their first sight of humans, grown fat off negative energy, that Tiber momentarily lost his grip - and by momentarily, it was a lifetime in human years. Evil slipped into his heart, literally and figuratively. A warband, decked in royal purple and gold, was camped not far from their current path. None had to say a word before they were bearing down upon the humans, ears pricked and hooves clattering on rock and crystal. The humans had dealt with Chry before, yet these three were something else - majestic, proud, and viciously wicked. The leader of the warband approached; Tiber was immediately drawn to him. Power emanated from him, his troops appeared to fear yet respect him. Tiber pranced forwards, his tail swishing and hooves sending sparks in all directions. He was a terrific sight, this bright equine.

The human bowed, his head low but his eyes never leaving Tiber, their gaze conveying multitudes. They could form a strong alliance, and so they did. They conjoined, the leader of this warband and Tiber, forming the most feared pair of beast that Lucent had seen for eons.

veteran

The most gruesome war in history, that's how they described it.

Tiber and his human, Crixus, overpowered every enemy that stood before them. They conquered, pillaged, and ravaged the land of all who opposed their cause. Tiber knew not what this cause was. Crixus told him all that mattered, and that was what or who the target was; and then they bellowed their war cries together and charged into the fray.

It was one day, like many others in how it began and ended, that something in Tiber reawoke from a deep part of him he had forgotten about - wonder. As he bore down on the enemy, lashing out with hoof and horn, as Crixus dealt fatal blows with a weapon forged of steel and the shocking, purple hairs of his steed, Tiber's mind began to work. Why exactly were they fighting? The land around them was barren and burned, the sound of rockfall and collapsing caverns echoing almost ceaselessly. If they were to continue like this, the planet would become nothing but a wasteland of bone and rock. The intricacies of life here, the strange creatures and structures, how disaster scourged and reformed the earth; it would all be lost.

The stallion's heart raced as he came back to the present. The battle was over, and another stronghold taken. Crixus was congratulated, and in turn he praised Tiber for their magnificent partnership, like none the planet had seen before. All would bow before them. Tiber only half listened, hearing the words but not taking them in. He had much to ponder. He slept restlessly that night, feeling as though something were to come to and end.

Indeed, the flame that burns twice as bright burns half as long. A noble rule spans an age. The reign of Crixus and Tiber lasted until one of them died. Crixus's death: if you could call it honourable, it was. A moment of weakness, jaunty laughter escaping him as his victim was viciously lanced with that stinging spear, gave the second that was needed for his right hand man to stab him in the back. As his human's life faded, Tiber set upon his Chry brethren, the two with whom he came into the world. They had conspired, plotted, and carried out a dastardly plan of betrayal - this would not do.

As he cut them down, Tiber felt the evil that had been settled in his heart for so long depart. He became suddenly aware of what they had done, what colossal feats they had achieved, what malicious acts they were. Tiber felt something wash over him like dark a wave: despair. He despaired over the lives lost and the land forever scarred by hand and hoof. He vowed to himself, to the ground he stood on, that this would not happen again, that no tyrant would ever rise while he still walked upon Lucent.

Tiber is a stallion of his word.

teacher
- greying colour, becoming more 'pure white'

'My children, this story is not for the faint of heart.'

Tiber's voice rumbled as he spoke, like deep thunder in a distant cavern beneath the surface of Lucent. Many young basilisks gathered around, gazing up at him with awe in their faces and sparks in their eyes. They each came to his crystalline home to hear stories, whether fanciful or true they didn't know. There was an art to the Teacher's fables, the way he wove words into a detailed image, and the lessons into the very core of each listener. No word was wasted that was uttered from his grizzled muzzle, as each painted the likeness of his memories.

'Very well. I see you are not to be deterred. Let me teach you.'

Tiber told the tale of his origin, how he flared into existence from the stars with two others. He told of how they grew wild and untamed, feeding endlessly on the terror of humans and the fiendish draconian parasites that were borne of that dastardly emotion. The younglings listened with nary a flicker of an ear or scrape of a hoof for fear of missing the Teacher's words. Tiber spoke of the first time he laid eyes upon Crixus, his beloved and loyal human for many years. He spoke fondly of the ambitious Crixus, but with a harsh bite when the recount came to his graceless downfall.

'Crixus had my heart, and I his - or so I thought for all that time. His loyalty to the cause never wavered, he was a master with his cunningly devised weapon formed of my own hair. He didn't fear, and, although it may be considered a weakness to some, it only made him stronger. Power became him. I admired him for these qualities, and I believe he saw them in me too. I was so young then.'

For a moment, nothing but one's own breath could be heard in the bright cavern, its walls jagged with gems of otherworldly colours.

'Crixus fell as many have fallen before; through deception. He kept the truth from me, and paid the price, just as those who dealt him a foul hand paid for their transgressions against one who trusted them wholeheartedly. That war was an excuse, I believe, to justify the wrongdoings of a madman. That is why I must show you all that with power comes responsibility.'

Tiber looked out at the gathering. His eyes fell upon the faces enamoured by his speech, and were caught as he spotted a light filly among them. She was almost pure white, except for a head of rich mahogany and fiery hair. She reminded Tiber of a time when he sought the cleansing purity of some pale, sparkling water, said to grant immortality. Few had heard the retelling of his search for immortality, and none knew the true ending save for Tiber himself.

'In order to rid myself of the knowledge of immoral deeds I had done in good faith, I began a trek to cleanse my body and mind. They say time heals all wounds, but I knew that time would not lessen the burden for me.' Tiber's speech is slow, deliberate, as if he speaks from across time. 'I encountered challenging obstacles during my search - obstacles that required analytical thought, some of emotion; others required a show of courage or physical prowess. These obstacles were nothing to a soul who has lost their very meaning, and has nothing more to give - only something to gain. From each challenge set before me, I learnt something new, some intricacy of the world, that will remain with me until the end of my days.'

Here he pauses, perhaps for dramatic effect, perhaps to have a moment to think on his next words.

'I came across a great waterfall. Towering and infinite it seemed, stretching high into the heavens and crashing on those impassive with an immutable force. I felt awe as my eyes fell upon this display of nature's power.' His light eyes shone as the memory flashed, as bright as the day it happened. 'I stepped under that water and felt the force on my back, my neck. It was overwhelming at first, but as I relaxed into it, let it flow around me, I felt its cleansing power. I know not how long I stayed at that white water. I do know that it changed me. For one, I grew white hair!' A few of the young Chry chuckle at his observation of growing old. 'But also, I am no longer the penitent seeking redemption for his misdeeds; I am a wise, old basilisk who has learned and healed, and I will teach you.'

Tiber's story finished here. He felt a sense of melancholy as well as nostalgia at the conclusion, as he often did when he recalled the memory.

'The most important aspect of any life is to remain curious. Learn from the past, look to better the future, but never forget that the present is not to be taken for granted. Keep your eyes open, your ears sharp and your wits about you. The force of a waterfall only exists at your resistance; be flexible, and everything will flow around you.'

[husky.]

username: husky. | name: alcyon le creux | gender: male

do they believe in ghosts? why?:

he drifted silently across the endless sweep of sand, the black colour of the shifting grains as dark as his persistent mood. cliffs rose on his left, a craggy wall of stone and moss whose shadow cast its jagged edges out towards the opposing sea. waves crashed, their foamy fingers never ceasing in their attempt to reach him, swallowing his faint paw prints as though sequestering them to the icy depths of the ocean. he roamed the shore, and he searched.

lonely souls often wound up here one way or another, for their own reasons or perhaps no reason at all. some appeared as wisps, nothing more than a swirl of silvery mist against the dark backdrop of the beach, waving about aimlessly. those were often the gentlest ghosts, brushing by alcyon as he made his way along, causing his long hair to stir as if in a breeze. their mournful, low howl was like the wind.

the most common ghosts to come across on this isolated beach were the ones who passed away not far from the shore. they appeared as half-figures, often maidens watching for the return of their husbands or wights of battle-scarred men appearing as nothing but a head and torso, their ghostly forms sometimes missing limbs. these men often accosted alcyon with gravelly voices and wild eyes, imploring him to raise arms against an enemy clan before clamoring off searching for adversaries; alcyon could only assume a tragic battle had been fought here, with many bodies washed to sea never finding a resting place. alcyon knew he could do nothing for these spectres as they faded across the beach, timeless in their travels. their families were long gone, and it filled him with sadness.

the rarest ghost of all was the wraith: they appeared soon after death as a well-defined imitation of the deceased - still transparent, pale and ghostly, of course, but more substantial than the others. alcyon had come across a few wraiths; the most memorable was a young pony who had lost its footing on the cliffs, and whose body lay broken among the rocks and pools. it trotted along, whinnying for its mother. it was a miserable sight, and alcyon did his best to guide it towards the rough path up the cliffs, entertaining the idea that it might reunite with its herd and find closure, though he didn't know the outcome. he left the little ghost and strayed farther down the beach.

alcyon wasn't sure how much time had passed since his last encounter, as he never kept track of such meaningless constructions, but one morning he spotted a figure sitting quietly on a rock. his attention piqued, he ambled over to discover it was a young girl dressed in white, everything about her frighteningly pale. she smiled mischievously, her cheeks as round as apples. alcyon's mouth tweaked and he found himself grinning back, which he found most unusual and involuntary. he watched her swinging her legs back and forth as she regarded him in return, her head tilted slightly.

'what are you doing?' came her soft voice. alcyon was not accustomed to inward reflection, and found a meaningful answer to her question was rather difficult to find.

'looking, I suppose,' he responded vaguely.

'for what?' she countered.

'meaning...' he balked. 'myself, perhaps.'

'but you're right here,' she stated the obvious. he nodded. 'are you a ghost?'

'no.'

'but you look like one.'

alcyon raised his brow in mock offence. 'you look like one, too.'

she giggled. 'ghosts aren't real. my mummy says so.'

'ghosts are as real as you or me. i've seen them with my own eyes.'

the girl's face lit up. 'really? can you show me?'

alcyon looked out across the beach wistfully, the sea spray glowing gold in the early sun. 'you have to believe. then you'll see.'

he turned back to the girl just as she took off down the beach. 'i'm looking for ghosts! come out and say hi!' alcyon watched as she ran. she left no footprints behind and seemed to fade in the brilliance of the light. he creased his brow. was she...?

alcyon shook his head and wandered on.

total words: 698

# with a sparkle of life in her blue eyes
# craggy, untamed shores of Iceland
# ghosts of pirates, shipwrecks, maidens waiting for lost men at sea to return
# shade, spectre, wraith (death-associated), apparition, wight

[unused final, too many words]

it’s easy to believe in ghosts; it’s not easy to believe in oneself.

he drifted silently across the endless sweep of sand, the black colour of the shifting grains as dark as his persistent mood. cliffs rose on his left, a high, craggy wall of stone and moss whose shadow cast its jagged edges out towards the opposing sea. waves crashed to his right, their foamy fingers never ceasing in their attempt to reach him, swallowing his faint paw prints as though sequestering them to the icy depths of the ocean. he roamed the shore, and he searched.

lonely souls often wound up here one way or another, for their own reasons or perhaps no reason at all. some appeared as wisps, nothing more than a swirl of silvery mist against the dark backdrop of the beach, waving about aimlessly. those were often the gentlest ghosts, brushing by alcyon as he made his way along, causing his long hair to stir as if in a breeze. their mournful, low howl was like the wind, meaningless except for only that which they knew themselves.

the most common ghosts to come across on this isolated beach were the ones who passed away not far from the shore. they appeared as half-figures, often maidens watching for the return of their husbands or wights of battle-scarred men appearing as nothing but a head and torso, their ghostly forms often missing limbs or with holes right through them. these men often wielded great axes and stunning greatswords of engraved, tempered steel, accosting alcyon with gravelly voices and wild eyes. some implored him to join their cause and raise arms against an enemy clan before clamoring off searching for their adversaries; alcyon could only assume a tragic battle had been fought and lost here eons ago, with many bodies washed to sea never finding a resting place. some of the war-ghosts were listless in their travels, sorrowful eyes telling him to wish their wives and children well and pass on their love. alcyon knew he could do nothing for these spectres as they faded across the beach, timeless in their travels. their families were long gone, and it filled him with sadness.

the rarest ghost of all, and the one which drew alcyon's curiosity, was the wraith: they appeared soon after death as a well-defined imitation of the deceased, still transparent, pale and ghostly, of course, but more substantial than the others. alcyon had come across exactly two wraiths in his time on this beach; the first and most memorable was a young pony who had lost its footing on the cliffs, and whose body lay broken among the rocks and pools. it trotted along, whinnying for its mother. it was a miserable sight, and alcyon did his best to guide it towards the rough path up the cliff face, entertaining the idea that it might reunite with its herd and find closure, though he didn't know the outcome. the second wraith had been a woman, shivering and ragged as she climbed from the turbulent waters, asking where she was. alcyon gave her the answer to the best of his knowledge, watching as she went on her way with an apparent lack of idea of what had happened to her. the unpredictable waves had likely caught her off-guard, alcyon thought. he turned from her thin form and strayed farther down the beach.

alcyon wasn't sure how much time had passed since his last encounter, as he never kept track of such meaningless constructions, but one morning he spotted a ghost sitting quietly on a rock. his attention piqued, he ambled over to discover it was a young girl dressed in white, everything about her frighteningly pale. she smiled mischievously, a flush of pink across her cheeks. alcyon's mouth tweaked and he found himself grinning back, which he found most unusual and involuntary. he watched her swinging her legs back and forth just as she regarded him in return, her head tilted slightly.

[husky.]

[date here]

Fair Brother,

It has been so long since last we spoke that I scarcely recall your voice. It has taken me this long to write in fear of what repercussions might befall us for any outward displays of unpleasantry, but it needs to be said: I despise this predicament we find ourselves in.

When Odin cast this spell, he placed upon us a most cruel fate. I find myself with barely any time to spend as I please, and I am constantly aware of these heavenly bodies that chain us to our routine. Every day, as I retire from my duty, I am only reminded of yours as I see the glow of the moon scudding across the sky. I find myself wondering how long we must endure this dreadful task ─ surely Ragnarok will reach us sooner rather than later, and we can again frolic as we did in our youth.

If only you hadn't suggested we venture out on that day, perhaps Odin may not have spied us and roped us into this noble duty as he says, making us seem no better than common shepherd's dogs. Really, it was all your fault that this happened. I would have visited our friends at the beach as usual, but no! you were insistent we visit the mountains, only bringing us closer to the heavens and to the fate that now befalls us. I could be playing out in the sun right now, however my days are spent traversing the endless sky, following the tail of the sun like an obedient child, wasting away the days and only to return home at night when it is futile to call on my friends who are resting in their beds, with no attachments so unpleasant as mine!

O if only it were different!

In truth, it took me this long to write a letter as I have been brooding on some most unsavoury thoughts for quite some time. Write me soon, brother, for I have more words to say to you about this.

─ Sköll

[skoll blames hati for their misfortune of being roped into the job, is unhappy at how he has no time to socialise as he used to. this is a more literal take on the myth, where they literally chase the sun and moon across the sky and return to earth only during the day/night (ignore that the earth is round and that it orbits the sun lmao).]

[husky.]

[origin]

Sköll loved his brother with every fibre of his being, yet... they had grown apart, a wedge forced between them as they were cast unwillingly into their roles, each as shepherds guiding the heavenly bodies of the sky. The stallion was at a loss, feeling that Hati was slipping away from him as though caught in a riptide, and, try as he might, there was no reaching him. It was happening right in front of him, yet he felt distanced from it, like any action he could take would be useless. Sköll hatted this feeling.

There hadn't always been tension between the two brothers. No, they were once the closest two separate beings could be. Growing up together, they would eat, play and sleep as though joined at the hip. The two colts, as opposite in appearance as night and day, were more than just brothers; they were partners, enemies, teachers and constant companions. Their bond went deeper than just kinship; they shared blood, sweat, tears and secrets, forging a most immutable connection.

[devotion]
- courage, standing up for each other.

[treachery]
- someone lies.

[moon & stars]
- sköll's private thoughts of his brother during their time under the spell.