DETAILS IN THE FABRIC , [tag: anubis]

[Ren]

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[atrb=background,http://i42.tinypic.com/ay96pf.jpg,true] X The great river-courses which have shaped the lives of men have hardly changed; and those other streams, the life-currents that ebb and flow in human hearts, pulsate to the same great needs, the same great loves and terrors. As our thought follows close in the slow wake of the dawn, we are impressed with the broad sameness of the human lot, which never alters in the main headings of its history--hunger and labour, seed-time and harvest, love and death. Our lives are waves that come up out of the ocean of eternity, break upon the beach of earth, and lapse back to the ocean of eternity. Some are sunlit, some run in storm and rain; one is a quiet ripple, another is a thunderous breaker; and once in many centuries comes a great tidal wave that sweeps over a continent; but all go back to the sea and lie equally level there. We can smile, breathe, walk, and eat our meals in a way that allows us to be in touch with the abundance of happiness that is available. We are very good at preparing to live, but not very good at living. We know how to sacrifice ten years for a diploma and we are willing to work very hard to get a job, a car, a house, and so on. But we have difficulty remembering that we are alive in the present moment, the only moment there is for us to be alive. Moments such as this was rare indeed and Shea was not likely to let the momentary warmth leave without as much as a playful frolic. When was the last time the perfect combination of heat and cold mixed together -- besides when creating a storm. The air thick and heady clung to her coat like a second skin, brushing along that dirty gray hide of hers and for ones she was not worried about the way the sun’s warm arms touched her because she was blissfully happy. Muscles thrummed with renewed vigor, strength pulsed in and out like a field of wild flowers during a light summers breeze. This was the time she loved, so beautiful and delightful that she just wanted to drop to the ground and roll in the sand, to allow the warmth of the day soak into her muscles. A low groan escaped her throat at the very thought of playing, frolicking in the nice day. No one was about right? Who really was there to see her running around like a yearling, dancing and laughing with an freedom free horses her age felt again. So, without thinking Shea surged forward, muscles tightening long raven black hair flying back as she pushed off with her hind legs and propelled herself into the air leaping up and tossing her head. Laughter, sounds of pleasure fell all around her in little bursts. Tears pulled back, nostrils flared by the hunger of the game she found herself in. Being chased by an imaginary foe had her pounding off like a doe in the thickness of the forest. She was not as graceful as most mares, in fact she lacked the charm they all had but she had accepted her lot in life, knew there was nothing she could do, nothing she would ever get. For a good fifteen to twenty minutes, Shea bounded about the lands not even noticing much of anything save her own trigger-happy enjoyment. However, after her body trembled with exhaustion she ran around even more, pushing her body until her legs burned and her muscles cried out. This feeling was something she would always cherish, always enjoy, not because she did not get to run and play like this -- in fact Shea was known for her playfulness -- but because life was something to enjoy. Finally, she settled down, her sides heaving, her heart pounding against her chest threatening to beat right out of her body. With a light laugh, she shook her head, sending the long black waves of hair to fan about her neck and slowly settles along her neck.

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[ANUBIS ;;]

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[atrb=background,http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y216/woogan/AnubisTableMid.png,true] The hour hand on the grandfather clock pointed to daylight hours. The sun of Ra hung pregnant and low in the sky, a telling of winter to come, but that did not stop his rays from scorching these desert sands. Unbearable waves of heat would come rolling in every morning and lay stagnant, the waves of the intense heat by their very nature causing the vision to haze and the horizon around you to writhe like a mirage. Only the cacti could withstand such a daily torture, and they towered like prickly old men: never complaining and always rigidly aware of their existence, and how one slight of their performance could bring about the end of them. Nothing else dared to live in this barren wasteland of dunes and sands, cloudless skies and oven-like daylight hours. Who would be crazy enough to want to venture into the dunes when sight of salvation beyond was impossible? As far as the eye could see spread desert, and no matter where the occs turned, the void seemed rejected of life, save for those wise old cacti. But there was one point of life here that perhaps the rest of the world was unaware of. Foolish life? Maybe. There were plenty of more habitable regions to choose from when it came to searching out a territory. Yet, the warlock had adapted to these daylight hours. Today, like every day, he sought shelter in a natural wind-carved cave that seated itself inside of a massive boulder, what must be the remnants of a mountainside from an untold number of generations past. Its maw faced away from the rising and setting sun at all hours, and the teasing breezes that came across the flat expanse of desert came in the direction of its face. Within these walls slept a tall, lanky figurine. The sides of his chassis rose and fell peacefully, and his unusual golden eyes dreamed behind dusted lashes. He was a dull, sandy foreground to a duller, sandier background, but the simple and solitary life suited him. He slept in peace during the day, accompanied by his number of familiars: a trio of ravens who perched on him to rest as well. One had seated itself along the nape of his neck, another at his withers, and the third at his haunches. The four slept soundly, together, like one unsightly statue. But the sounds of play and frolic broke that daily ritual. For as long as Anubis had named this desert his refuge, he had never encountered another stranger that had come here of his or her own accord. His golden-interior sonar swerved in his slumber, and an instant later, his golden occs flashed open. He did not move, too taken aback by the sounds alone that it took a full moment to process the very foreign nature of it. Some stranger was cavorting around outside his shelter in the day time, and instead of wailing about in misery, they seemed gayer than ever. The stag’s first inclination was concern, for surely the equine out there was hallucinating its pleasure. What else could possibly bring out such an emotion? The beige masc came to life, then. His lengthy limbs stepped him forward and momentarily out of the shelter of his cave, which only brought dismay to his avian companions, and they irritably clamored off of his back to seek refuge back in the shade. The stag could barely keep his eyes fully open, for all the years he spent here in this desert, and he could only catch a blurry shape of what looked to be another equine, finally ceasing in her frolic. “What are you doing?” his rough voice came out incredulously and louder than he had anticipated, the thought that she might not know he was here completely bypassing him. That alone was enough exposure for him, and he shrank back further into the mouth of his cave to shield his sensitive occs. The fae would have to seek refuge herself, soon. Despite the pleasures feeling invincible often came with, they too were only mirages, and the heat exhaustion and exposure would claim her as fast as any other wanderer who had come this far and not sought shade.

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[Ren]

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[atrb=background,http://i42.tinypic.com/ay96pf.jpg,true] ‘What are you doing?’ the words were spoken in a brusque, almost dubious cadence. Maybe she should have jumped, turned quickly and bolted off in the direction she had wandered however, his tone of voice did not strike fear within her heart. Many times before other horses had looked unfavorably on her, their treatment rough, harsh, cruel and belittling so his approach did not faze her in the least. Why should she fear him? He did not even venture out of his cave, play in the warmth of the sun, roll around in the sand, and nicker up to the Gods that created the heat, wind and sun. While she could barely make out all of his features Shea noticed his size, the arch of his neck, how blackish-brown the hue of his mane or how his coat was an unusual shade of brown. Shea always noticed little things, this might have been her down fall but she also noticed the moment he stepped back into the shadows. Curiosity ate away at her insides, questions popped up without hesitation as she contemplated that very action. While the sun did not hurt her, she wondered why he would fear such a beautiful sight. Did he have something wrong with him? Maybe his eyes could not adjust. Therefore, her thoughts scattered about in various questions about his sanity, his well-being, his coat and a few other idea’s. “Playing. I did not mean to disturb you but on such a day as this when the sky is blue and the sun is bright and beautiful I felt the need to run around.” Even as she stood there, her own body worked quickly to heal any damage the sun caused. Shea would not be able to withstand the sun for very long but her healing ability helped to rejuvenate herself quickly enough so she felt little to zero damage. In truth, Shea did not even know her body healed and while she knew, she could heal other animals she never thought her body would heal itself. This also might be why she slept so soundly at night, why at the send of the day she could barely keep her eyes open and why she never had the strength to stand while sleeping. That flow of energy and how her own strength ebbed ever so slightly was always lost to her, now don’t go and thing her ignorance to her own ability a sign of her own intelligence for she truly was a clever little mare. “Everything is beautiful here. The sun is perfectly high and the sand feels wonderful against my skin. Do you not enjoy playing here?” That voice was delightfully sweet, trusting in ways most could never be. The way she looked at this stallion truly was friendly, as if he was the most trustworthy horse in all the lands and to Shea all she saw was his good traits such as his noble stature, or the fact that he asked her what she was doing rather then telling her to get off his lands. Little things like that never slipped from her notice. Canting her head to the side, she turned fully in facing the stallion in his dark cave. “Why are you in the cave and is there something wrong with you?” Shea asked, the etching of concern and uncertainty playing along her features, shining in her eyes and oddly, enough all thoughts and emotions passed by for him to interpret as he wished. Ever hear the expression ’reads like an open book‘ well Shea an open book, her emotions and thoughts are always on display, nothing is hidden nor was she particularly a good liar, her motives were always just and she did things to help others, one might even say she would give her own life away to save another.

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[ANUBIS ;;]

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[atrb=background,http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y216/woogan/AnubisTableMid.png,true] This was the most unusual of circumstances indeed. This beige hued brujo was not at all accustomed to speaking to other equines yet, much less in his own territory, and even less than that, during the day time. Due to his nocturnal nature, her frolic had woken him after only a few hours of rest, so his mind was just as gruff, if not more, than his voice. His lanky frame shrank back into the shadows to hide from the daylight, and this peculiar damsel continued to stand out in the sunlight. Though his goldenrod orbs would not open fully, the warlock could make her figure out more clearly. A single horn jutted from her forehead, and her coat was a similar, dusty brown hue as his, lacking the luster that many around these regions had. She seemed naïve to him, for what self-respecting creature would simply go to the most deadly of places to play? For now, the two looked back and forth at each other with the same type of concern: Clearly, something was not quite right with the other. Even as she stood out there, though, it seemed as though she had partial immunity to the sunlight. Because the rest of the world saw winter during the day, the atmosphere was clear and much less capable of holding off deadly rays than it could in the summer time. This wandering mare appeared entirely unaffected by the sunlight or the heat. Anubis’ scrutinizing gaze gradually grew more into one of curiosity rather than one of concern. He, too, cocked his slender skull to the side and flared his thin nostrils, his sonar swerved forward to catch the innocence of her questions. This dame was quite unnatural, most certainly. But, for whatever reason, the dun monarch found it somewhat endearing. “This is my home, the Ka’ar Desert. I don’t usually entertain the sun with its next meal. I prefer the moon, myself.” He returned her question with a cocked brow. His cracked, dry voice echoed eerily about him in the cave, and a single ear of his swiveled backward to the sound of disturbed chatter coming from the beaks of his raven companions. Clearly, those three were just as concerned about this stranger, but in a different way. Anubis was sure he heard some cynical remark about how they’d be more than happy to have her fall prey to the sun so that they could have their next meal. Over the years, though, the warlock had grown talented at ignoring their snide bantering, and his attention returned instantaneously to this femme. “When you’ve seen as many fall dead from exposure and heat exhaustion as I have, perhaps you would seek the shade too.” he returned, his skull tipping to the side, and he took a step backwards into the darkness so that he could open his occs more fully. Of course, with a single step, the golden rings locked around his fetlocks jangled against one another, creating an off-pitch ring to his movements. He was more comfortable here, in the darkness. The daylight made him grouchy, but for now, he managed to keep his lyrics a little less than gruff. It was clear enough that she meant no harm. “There is nothing wrong with me, though some may tell you otherwise.” He replied and gave his head a shake, making his unkempt tresses tangle and fall dead against his neck again. “I am Anubis, by the way. Feel free to explore my desert more, if it pleases you.” By now, his goldenrod pools had adjusted to this level of lighting and his gaze upon her eccentric form had intensified. This was the first time in… well… forever that someone had actually complimented his homeland. If she enjoyed it here so much, he was more than pleased to share it for the time being with another appreciative soul.

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[Dodge]

INACTIVE