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Wood cracked against wood, Crane’s training sword crashing against Auster’s own wooden sword. The edge of Auster’s sword splintered, a wooden chip flying off the edge. His eyes went wide as he stepped backward with the force of Crane’s push, digging his hooves into the sand of the training ground. She gave no ground, and this close together, Auster got a good look at her face, so unlike the Pouflons he was used to. Her Vespire face narrowed down to a tapered nose, accentuated by midnight fur lined with purple and blue streaks. Her pale, pink eyes sparked with a flame that shocked him by the intensity, and Crane jumped on his distraction. She relaxed her strength for just a moment before exploding forward.

With renewed energy, Crane surged upwards and slammed back down with all of her weight. Her sword met his before the rest of her came crashing down, all of her kinetic force channeling directly to his bones through the fragile wood. The sword cracked open down the middle while Auster crumpled down to the ground, his brain scrambling as the force coursed through him like a shockwave. He dropped his sword instinctively and gasped, while Crane beamed down at him.

“Y-you know it’s just training!” he exclaimed, shakily standing up. “You don’t need to, um, go so hard…”

Crane dropped her sword next to him, looking down at him quizzically.

“What’s the point of practice if I don’t give it my all?”

“Not to harm each other, for one!” Auster responded, working his way back up to standing, albeit with trembling knees. Crane stared him up and down, leaning close to sniff him.

“But you look fine? And I don’t smell a hint of blood on you! Come on, we can go another round!”

Auster groaned as Crane snatched up her sword and ran to the other side of the training area once more.

visibility96

A Lick of Fire by family_staralternate_emailFelspring

posted last year, edited last year

Prompt: Knight Tier 1 - Call of Duty
Featuring: Crane (Vesp-1288); Auster (NPC-011)
Word Count: 318 words

bellacoste pouflons writing

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Always Gold, Part 3 by @Felspring

Always Gold, Part 3Shaking his head clear of the wine’s influence, Bryon perched on the very edge of a familiar cliff. Looking down, two miles of sheer cliff face stretched out before him, ending in a crystal-clear lake. The lake reflected the stars overhead, blazing a trail through the deep indigo sky and illuminating the night. Pine trees crowded around the lake’s edge, creating a dark mass of spectators for the stunt they were about to pull. “Ready?” Beside him, Scurlock scratched at the edge of the cliff, sending pebbles flying down. His older brother’s eyes glinted as he smiled at him, and Bryon shot back an equally crooked smile. He nodded, bracing himself against the cliff, waiting for his brother’s signal. “Go!” Scurlock shouted, and both Vespires threw themselves over the cliff's edge and into a free fall. Twisting in midair, Bryon’s coiled tail bounced with his maneuvers as he worked his way over to the left side of the lake and turned himself rightside up, claws facing the ground. Gravity propelled them faster and faster, both of them rocketing towards the frosty surface of the lake. Just as he passed the very tips of the treeline, Bryon’s wings shot out from his sides, sucking in air from the sudden force and pulling water up from the lake into a wave. On the other side, Scurlock did the same, and both of their waves came crashing down in the middle where they collided with a loud slap. “Ha! Perfect!” Scurlock whooped from the other side of the lake, gliding his way down to meet Bryon on the shore. The gravelly sand crunched beneath their claws as they watched the aftershocks of their stunt still rippling through the lake, coming to sit side by side. “You really know how to cheer me up, Bry,” Scurlock said. “Of course I do! I’m your brother,” Bryon said, shoving Scurlock in the side, though the behemoth of a Vespire didn’t feel the force at all. “And I couldn’t have asked for a better one!”

Ambush! by @Felspring

Ambush!Scurlock’s eyes darted back and forth, searching through the pine trees surrounding the carriage he and the other trainees were protecting. The dusk sky lit up orange before dying into an indigo at the horizon, forcing the trees to cast long shadows that stretched out over their forms. His ears perked up at the sound of something crunching- was it pine needles on the forest floor? He stopped and peered closer, tracing the outline of every tree to look for abnormalities, yet the pines gave up no sign of an unwanted intruder. The crunch didn’t repeat itself, leaving only the sound of the carriage’s wheels turning and creaking. “Ambush!” A fellow trainee in the front screeched as they were jumped, a form darting forward to kick out their legs. Scurlock bolted to go help his teammate, but another Vespire intercepted him, smashing into his shoulder at full force. He instinctively tightened his muscles and dug his claws into the dirt, holding steadfast as the attacker bounced off his shoulder. “Uh, this might have been a bad target! He’s like, three times my size-” Scurlock whirled around on the attacker, confused as the Vespire seemed to be talking to nobody in particular. The Vespire bore a red coat with a black mane like Scurlock’s, though his chest shone a bright white. Golden claws tipped his feet, and a unicorn horn crowned his forehead. Even as the attacker crouched low in preparation to spring, his face seemed uncertain, eyes shifting uneasily. “Not on my watch!” Scurlock yelled, slamming one massive paw down in front of the attacker. The Vespire lept back in response, then sprang forward, using Scurlock’s leg as leverage to rush up and onto his back. His claws ripped and tore at the fur there, digging just a little too deep and lacerating Scurlock’s skin. Scurlock screeched at the pain, but his fury overrode whatever he was feeling. With a ferocious roar, he bucked, tail tip swinging in a wide arc to connect squarely with his opponent’s jaw. “Ye-ouch! I told you he’s too much for us!” “Shut it, you!” Scurlock whipped to the side, using the momentum of his weight to hurl the attacker off of him. His opponent crashed into the forest floor and rolled back onto his feet, his three tails lashing in unison. Scurlock stepped forward, black and yellow pneumir spouting from his mouth and ears. His attacker growled back at him but held his ground, both Vespires staring each other down. “STOP!” The tension in the air shattered as their Captain shouted and jumped between them, snapping both of them out of the bloodlust. Scurlock loosened his shoulders and coughed, while his opponent cowered at the shouting. That’s hardly the Vespire that was trying to flay my back two seconds ago! “This was a practice scenario, need I remind you!” the Captain scolded, looking at both of them with fury. “I expect better composure from you, Scurlock, and you need to control yourself, Eternity.” “Ah- I’m sorry, I don’t know what overcame me,” Scurlock muttered, ears flattening as he felt his cheeks flush and warm. “I-I’ll do better next time,” Eternity said, avoiding both the Captain and Scurlock’s eye. “Good,” the Captain growled. “Now go get checked out at the infirmary for any injuries, and then I want twenty laps around the lake from both of you!”

Always Gold, Part 2 by @Felspring

Always Gold, Part 2“What a boring party. Dad keeps saying we have to socialize and ‘get ourselves out there’, but I don’t see him talking to a bunch of windbags all night!” Bryon swayed in place a little as Scurlock ranted, still lightly buzzed from the vintage the host of the affair had handed out. Whatever it had been, it had been potent and unlike his older brother, his slight form couldn’t handle liquor that strong. He closed his eyes as Scurlock went on, enjoying the way the breeze cooled his flushed face. Behind them, the mansion of a much older Vespire flooded light into the backyard garden they had fled to for some relief. Even then, Bryon heard others muttering and talking in low murmurs elsewhere in the garden. Dim fairy lights illuminated the small patio they had found, catching the gilding on the ornate bricks beneath their claws. In the distance, Bryon could still hear the violinist playing a slow, elegant tune. “At least this gala isn’t breaking out into a fight like the last one,” Bryon said at last, snorting as he thought back to two weeks ago. “Hey, I’d give anything for a fight!” Scurlock replied, flexing his large claws. “Maybe if someone challenged me to a duel in dad’s honor, we’d actually get somewhere tonight.” “No one would challenge you, Scur,” Bryon said, this time laughing heartily. “You scare half the nobles just by walking into a room!” The violinist’s song drew to a close, and Bryon felt the air of the party start to pivot behind them. He rolled his shoulders and butted his head against Scurlock’s burly shoulder. “Come on, I think the party’s winding down. Let’s say our goodbyes to the host and then we can go for a round of Cliff Swooping before we go home.”

Raffy by @Felspring

Always Gold, Part 1 by @Felspring

Always Gold, Part 1A sound. Frantically, the Geode within pecked and harried at the shell surrounding him, instinct driving him to push against the rough lining. It yielded slightly, the crack above him widening by the tiniest margin, but still held steadfast. Frustration and desperation grew in equal measure, fear clutching at the Geode’s rapidly beating heart. Oxygen, though he didn’t know that it was, ran out fast and he understood that to be dangerous. Another sound, closer. Chirping and shuddering, the Geode curled up his stumpy limbs together, gathering all of his dwindling energy. With a mighty shove, the Geode burst outward, coiled tail springing out and slamming into the shell. The crack suddenly exploded through the Geode’s shell, shearing it clean in two and allowing the now-hatched Geode to flop out onto the cavern floor. The shell lay split and motionless, lined with golden crystals that sparkled. Above him, a dimmed lantern crackled with a faint heat, casting a dull glow into the gloom. His eyes adjusted to the new light slowly, even painfully despite how low it was. The cavern seemed to stretch out and above him for miles, the walls eventually vanishing into darkness he couldn’t see beyond. The Geode shivered as a chill wind settled onto his fur, and he crouched low, instincts screaming at him of danger. “Hello?” From just beyond the lantern’s circle, a broad head poked out of the darkness, eyes lighting up with recognition. The Geode barely had time to understand what he was looking at before the larger Vespire rushed him, towering over him by several heads. The Vespire circled around him a few times, sniffing at him and nudging him with a snout much larger than the Geode’s body. “Hey, look at you, little buddy! You got mom’s whiskers!” The Vespire curled down around him, long fur draping over the Geode and instantly warming him up. The Geode chirped and moved in closer, his wide eyes trying to take in all the details. It overwhelmed him, but he recognized one thing: the Vespire’s tail coiled in a corkscrew, just like his own. “Don’t worry, little bro!” Scurlock said, his voice pitching up. “Mom and dad will be here soon.”

[Pouflons] Rowan by @Felspring

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(Yllithae AU) Market Day by @Ellteo

(Yllithae AU) Market DayThe market is too loud and impossibly large to be contained in such a small alleyway. Matteo wonders, glancing over the crowd, how any of them manage to stay sane in the bustle of it all. He’s barely been on the street for an hour and already his head is spinning. Everything in the marketplace is squeezed between two long rows of buildings - vendors, customers, pickpockets and all. Many of the merchants have awnings dyed eye-catching colors, or woven with intricate designs. Those who can’t afford such niceties have blankets rolled out between stalls, down side-alleys, all they have to offer plainly set in front of them. Guards stand watch at intervals, talking amongst themselves or otherwise staring into space. Matteo’s eyes slide from one curiosity to the next as they slowly push through the crowd. He can see cages in one stall, small ones closer to the front and larger ones lining the back walls, and even still more outside, taking up a part of the walkway. Inside sit various creatures he’s not seen before; In some of them are little reptilian things, all tooth and claw and scale. In others strange feathered beasts wrap in on themselves, peeking out from behind delicate wings. In the largest of the cages stands a creature so close to a human that one could be mistaken for kin alike were it not for the unsettling silver shifting beneath their skin and the dead-eyed, vacant stare. The vendor barks the names of these creatures to passerby in a thrilling, captivating voice, but Matteo can’t seem to catch the words in his mind long enough to remember them. In another stall, pots and bowls large enough to fit a child inside stand at attention. Along the walls perch smaller, delicate little ceramic pieces. Finely sculpted scenes painstakingly carved into each surface, glazed in impossibly bright azures, creamy yellows, harsh reds. Matteo catches Ellis glancing at them, and then away, very quickly. The price for any of them is too great, certainly, and for all the world Matteo can’t understand why a vendor of such fine pieces would deem fit to sell them here. Moving on there are several stalls in a row full to excess with food - all of which smell wonderfully tantalizing. Matteo’s mouth waters as they pass by. Little fruits collected in bowls, overspilling with bounty, bunches and bundles of herbs and spices and dried meats hang from twine strung around the edges of the stalls. One in particular is the source of the most drool inducing scent of them all; A small stall with a fire pit set into the back of the house it’s attached to, with a fat bellied pig roasting atop. ‘They must own the house, ’ Matteo thinks as he passes by, neck craning to continue taking it in. ‘I can’t imagine living here… ’ Strangers shuffle past on either side, part of the ebb and flow of the market as a whole. The lifeblood of the city. Each person has an entire life, a whole world of their own, different in style and look and feel to the next. Watching them is entertaining on its own, he thinks. Strong bodied women, basket under arm, trundle past with coin purse in hand and more tenacity than any warrior. Children scatter through the crowd amongst the various skirts and robes, chasing the strays down alleys and up stairways. Couples and groups walking together, chattering away in hushed tones, only to exuberantly brighten with a laugh here and there. Each and every person has a purpose here. Matteo feels misplaced amongst them. ‘How am I supposed to blend in with this, when these people have more life in them than I’ve ever had? I can't pretend to know this. If this is humanity, I'm unsure I can count myself among the human. ’ The sense of othering leaves him uncomfortable and distracted. With no tether to the people and places around him, hopelessness rears. Out of his depth by miles and miles, the reality of his dire situation comes to focus once more. With a slow movement he reaches out before him and grasps Ellis’ hand. He needs a lifeline, a connection to the here and now. Anything to feel less like a stain on bright parchment. For what it’s worth, Ellis doesn’t balk. He doesn’t slip his hand away in disgust, he doesn’t swat at him for having the audacity to do it, no, the stoic man simply takes his hand and squeezes it, equally grateful to have a tether he can hold onto. Chimes ring as a breeze pushes into the market, flowing through the stream of people like a gasp of air after a long dive. The collective sigh of the crowd makes them feel as one, alive. Both Matteo and Ellis can feel the shift around them, and in that shift can feel their own disjointedness. Ellis tugs Matteo closer, exchanging hand for arm, and keeps him tucked close to his side. Matteo is glad for that - for the protective gesture of it. He can feel eyes on both of them from somewhere, perhaps everywhere, as if the city itself had shifted a judgmental gaze upon the outsiders. A preposterous notion, but one nevertheless entertained with a paranoid thought.

Kiss From A Butterfly by @Kurjin

Kiss From A ButterflyHe couldn't believe it. He just couldn't. He didn't want it to end like this. His daughter, the only significant thing in his life, had lost the fight. She had fought against her sickness for so long and he, a poor man, was unable to do anything but to watch her suffer and pray that if there was some high divine power somewhere above, they would hear his plead. But they didn't – if there even was any deity listening, that is. He had tried to seek help from healers, but it was all in vain. They had ended up being all alone with their painful problem, dwelling in despair. And so, it happened on that one autumn morning that the little girl took her last breath. She had been young, way too young, and it was unfair that fate had stolen her life so soon. Her father had stayed up all night, grasping her fragile hand, begging for a miracle. It didn't happen. Her life slipped away trough his fingers. His daughter, his most precious treasure, was gone. The inevitable had ensued. Then came the tears. His vision got blurred and he couldn't help it. He wept and wept, but no matter how much he cried, the tears that dropped couldn't bring relief to his bottomless sorrow at all. Why did this have to happen? Who was responsible of the demise of such innocent child? Oh, he so wanted that somewhere out there would be a higher force so he could blame them for this tragedy. Deeply mourning, the father raised his beloved daughter and started to carry her tiny body. There was only one thing he could do. If the stories that were told around his home village were true. Perhaps he still had a chance to see his little girl. He simply loved her too much to let her go this easily. He just had to go to the hill of butterflies. The grieving father carried his child's dead body out of their warm home. The weather was a bit cold and the sky was clouded and dark like the man's mind. He began his travel to the hill that was good distance away from their village. Protecting the figure of the dearest person in his life as if she was still breathing, he journeyed to his destination. Even though the world seemed grim at that moment, the hill was beautiful. A lot of colorful flowers were blooming, and as the man reached the top of the place, then sat down with his daughter still in his arms, it appeared as if the gorgeous plants were guarding them. The man embraced her, petting her long, dark hair. Now he just had to wait. So he waited. Eventually the dawn turned to dusk. That whole time the man had squeezed his child's empty husk, mumbling to himself that everything was going to turn alright and that he loved her more than anything. He was so focused on the small body on his arms that he didn't realize that something miraculous started to happen around them. However, it didn't take long for him to snap out of his somber state of mind and become more aware of his surroundings. The magnificent flowers didn't get reduced to buds as the veil of darkness intertwined around the world. Instead, they started to glow with a radiant light in many different colors. The sight was breath-taking, but there was still more to come. Then they appeared; the butterflies. It was as if the flowers had summoned them. Those beautiful tiny beings just materialized out of nowhere, each one of them conquering a blossom for themselves. And then, in unison, they took off from their little plant platforms, rising higher and higher, and began to dance in the air. The sight was stunning. The man could just stare in awe as the butterflies fluttered around them. So it was true. The fable about night butterflies was valid. They could help him. Soon one of the colorful insects separated from the group of its sisters and brothers, descending to meet the man. It landed on his lips, and the man closed his eyes. For a moment the time felt like it had stopped. Only when the butterfly decided to leave the spot to ascend again did the man open up his eyes. “Daddy?” Greatly astonished, the father shifted his gaze at his precious little girl he was holding. She was staring at him with bright and joyful eyes. She was alive, she was alive! He closed his daughter in a tight hug, tears of happiness rolling down his face. His heart was beating wildly, bursting with love for his only important being in his life. Delight killed all the last remains of his previous sorrow that he had felt when he had arrived to the hills. It was like that misfortune never even happened. “Thank you… thank you!” father whispered and made known his gratefulness for the little insects. “What's wrong daddy? Why are you crying?” the little girl inquired. The man wiped away his tears before answering: “Everything is okay now. Nothing is wrong.” Then he kissed his daughter's forehead. She let out a small giggly noise, which made the father's heart melt. After that, they both stood up, hand in hand and looked together at the dance of butterflies. Those small creatures began to flutter around the father and his child. The family members looked at each other with a sheer glee on the face of them both. Then they gazed to the sky above and collectively, still holding their hands together, they started to ascend to the heavens with butterflies.