|  Author | Topic: F a n t a s m a ::WaitingForTheSunOnAWinter'sDay. (Read 92 times) |
Ghost-x
Foal
member is offline
![[avatar]](http://i226.photobucket.com/albums/dd242/wolfluvar13/icons/ghost.gif)
Joined: May 2007
Gender: Female 
Posts: 8
Location: England :)
Karma: 0 |  | F a n t a s m a ::WaitingForTheSunOnAWinter'sDay.
« Thread Started on Aug 28, 2008, 8:00pm » | ![[Quote]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/buttons/quote.gif) |
I hear your voice on the wind
And I hear you call out my name
"Listen, my child," you say to me
"I am the voice of your history
Be not afraid, come follow me
Answer my call, and I'll set you free"
I am the voice in the wind and the pouring rain
I am the voice of your hunger and pain
I am the voice that always is calling you
I am the voice, I will remain
I am the voice in the fields when the summer's gone
The dance of the leaves when the autumn winds blow
Sunlight sifted through the trees, creating golden streamers that swirled perpetually to the forest floor, illuminating the rustling and bustling of the creatures that made it their home. The trees themselves were alive with birds, twittering and flapping aimlessly, getting stuck in the thick net of leaves that still clung to the branches. How long until fall? Fantasma wondered idly.
The wood was quiet, save for the normal comings and goings of its inhabitants. The creatures of the forest went about their daily
lives, completely oblivious to the pale mare who watched them placidly with her haunting eyes. She could have done this forever, watched wolves and rabbits alike, as they hunted and loved and had children. As Fantasma could do none of these things, she never grew tired of watching them.
The albino mare folded her legs neatly beneath her, and lay down beneath the branches of an old oak. The wind whispered secrets in the stirring canopy above her, and Fantasma allowed her head to tip forward, and her eyelids to droop. For once, her eyes were not covered by the silky forelock, and her mane drifted down her back in shining waves. She was beautiful. It was undeniable, that even with her stoic demeanour, the beauty of the body she inhabited was unquestionable.
She was not the only phantom horse here, or so the story went. Legends told of the first horse on the island, that his spirit still resided in this forest. A sigh left her. With any luck, the legend of that ghost horse would still be the only one told by the time she left. The forest was devoid of her kind, so Fantasma told her story to herself.
--The phantom lived--
Can a ghost live anywhere? Perhaps not..
--The phantom existed in a peaceful forest, as he had in life. He stayed on to ensure the serenity and prosperity of his island. He was not alone in life, and neither in death. --
Fantasma allowed her head to come to rest on her leg. Of that fact, she was painfully envious.
A humourless chuckle left the white mare’s maw. I kept my promise. I have been a phantom all my life. It would be nice, just for once, to be able to live. Surely the reality comes before the stories, not the other way around? Scarlet eyes opened, and she stared unblinking through a gap in the canopy up to the pale blue sky.
Will I ever be more than just a voice on the wind?
Ne'er do I sleep thoughout all the cold winter long
I am the force that in springtime will grow
I am the voice of the past that will always be
Filled with my sorrow and blood in my fields
I am the voice of the future, bring me your peace
Bring me your peace, and my wounds, they will heal
I am the voice in the wind and the pouring rain
I am the voice of your hunger and pain
I am the voice that always is calling you
I am the voice
I am the voice of the past that will always be
I am the voice of your hunger and pain
I am the voice of the future
I am the voice, I am the voice
I am the voice, I am the voice
Answer me?
|
VENEZIA
Bite Her. I Dare You.
FANTASMA
Does she cry tears of blood?
|
|
.::I v o r y::.
Administrator
member is offline
Joined: Jan 2008
Posts: 11
Karma: 0 | | Re: F a n t a s m a ::WaitingForTheSunOnAWinter'sD
« Reply #1 on Aug 28, 2008, 9:42pm » | |
A twig snapped underfoot, a figure brushed past the leaves. A figure, or, as he was also called, a ghost horse. Although, in the light, he was not of that sort. It was odd of him to be moving throughout the day, as he usually liked the evenings, and early mornings, when the earth hadn't quite woken up yet. He cherished his time alone, but he also dreaded it. The horrible feeling of watching a beautiful sunset, with none to share it with. That empty feel started tearing at his insides, like a hunger that could not go away.
His leg, still injured and scabbed over, annoyed him. Everytime he took a step with his back leg, a searing pain shot through his body, causing him to lunge forward, only to be caught by his front leg stepping forward to stop his fall. But, his stubborn will to go somewhere carried him on, through a forest. He had no clue or sense of direction. He didn't even know what he was looking for.
Where to now? Am I just going in complete circles, like through life? He paused, resting his back leg. He could always turn around. Sighing, he continued on, making his way through the dense woods.
Hmmm, he questioned. A chuckle, seemed to come from no where. He pricked his ears, although he didn't hear anything else. The forest seemed louder, trying to hide whatever hid in the shadows. He shook himself, and continued on. The chuckle had come to his left, so he turned slightly, aiming is point to a pine tree. When he got there, a little distance away, lay a pure patch of snow. Or, at least it looked like snow. He squinted, staring until he saw it take a breath.
It was a horse, although it looked like a patch of snow, it was only sleeping. He sighed, he needed someone to talk to, but it seemed this horse looked content. He didn't even think of moving closer, although the white mare, it seemed, was twenty feet away. He closed his eyes, and tried to picture another forest, in a different time. His memory was not as sharp as before, and it was slowly fading. If only he could forget everything completely.
Hello, he said, barely above a whisper. What should I do now? I can't just leave her here, although I shouldn't just stand here and stare. He nervously flicked his tail and rubbing his neck against the pine tree. Of course, ghost horses shouldn't stay out in the day. So, he backed off a little bit, out of a sunny spot.
Word Count: 436
Status: Finished
Quality: Eh, okayish
Colors: Mood Changes
| |
|
Ghost-x
Foal
member is offline
Joined: May 2007
Gender: Female
Posts: 8
Location: England :)
Karma: 0 | | Re: F a n t a s m a ::WaitingForTheSunOnAWinter'sD
« Reply #2 on Sept 2, 2008, 9:07am » | |
Not to far away, Fantasma heard a slight disturbance in the trees. A twig snapping broke the silence, and the leaves whispered a warning of a passer by. As whoever it was drew closer, she could feel and hear their uneven gait. Her ears pricked slightly, although her eyes drifted shut. Various suggestions of what the creature could be waded through her mind. A predator she could easily deal with, but if it was a herbivore like the flighty deer, she didn’t want to cause a huge disturbance and give both of them away.
Whoever, or whatever it was seemed to be coming in her direction now. She kept her eyes closed, more out of habit than choice, and listened to the oncoming phantom. Her skin prickled uneasily, and she knew she was being watched. Her lip curled slightly in distaste, for there was the scent of an injury in the air. When his voice broke the quiet, she flicked her ear in his direction. Now that he was closer, his scent and manner betrayed his identity. It was a horse who had found her. Although, whether that is better or worse than a wolf, we have yet to see.
Her scarlet eyes drifted open lazily at his greeting. She looked at the place where he stood, just out of the sun. He had moved and acted as she, as a phantom. Inwardly, this provoked a contented smile. It seems I am not the only one who seeks shelter in shadows.
Good day. Her voice was as quiet as ever, the musical tone making it float lightly on the breeze, as pleasing to hear as the finest composition. She rose gracefully, her pale pelt glinting in the few shafts of sun that broke through the canopy. Standing in all her albino glory, she looked gently in his direction, curious as to what his reaction would be to this ruby-eyed ghost horse.
|
VENEZIA
Bite Her. I Dare You.
FANTASMA
Does she cry tears of blood?
|
|
.::I v o r y::.
Administrator
member is offline
Joined: Jan 2008
Posts: 11
Karma: 0 | | Re: F a n t a s m a ::WaitingForTheSunOnAWinter'sD
« Reply #3 on Sept 6, 2008, 3:37am » | |
Alas, she had finally spoken. But her choice of words were expected, yet not preferred. "Ahh, good day then. Although I would rather say good evening," He spoke, trying to ignore the sunlight rays beaming down. His manner was not as polite, more blunt. He had no liking to the day, but he seemed to be wandering around in it, as a fact. But, that argument should never surface the top fully.
He watched her intently as she got up from her content patch of forest floor. His ears pricked, although he heard nothing as she gathered herself to rise. She must have a bit of ghost horse in her. Her pelt showed how high of a ranking she was. He lowered his head as she stood up out of rank. He, and little others knew about the ghost horses so there weren't many left. They used to roam everywhere, and you were never quite safe at night. Mares used to sing to their foals at night:
Stay put child, stay where you are,
The ghost horse comes from above the mountain,
Don't let him drink from life's red fountain,
Please make haste and hide yourself,
They come to take you in your sleep,
Don't be taken, don't let them reap,
Stay put child, stay where you are,
Hush now and don't be seen,
For they will fade just at the scene,
Please make haste and hide yourself,
Stay put child, just stay where you are.
Sometimes he recited it to himself, but normally he didn't. Ghost horses were not all cruel and evil, but most of them were. Light's never joined even if they were born that way. It wasn't their nature. But darks loved it, and neutrals enjoyed it from time to time. 'though they always used it for different reasons. He was not one of those, though the song makes a good story to tell.
Has he watched her, he noticed she had red eyes. They were bright, and easy to miss, as her forelock slightly hid them well at his angle. His own grew larger, as he realized who she really was. He did a little prance it place, and would have pranced around her if his leg wasn't an issue. He grinned, happy to be with his own kind. Somewhat. "You're one of us, aren't you?....You must know who I am then."
He looked deeply into her eyes, and saw something he never wanted to see again. Painful as it was, there wasn't all just pain there. There was love, joy, and happiness. But that was a long time ago... She almost looked translucent. Like captured mist, almost. Creepy how light works to one's advantage. His mind raced until he found something, "You are real, right?"
Word Count: 449
Status: Finished
Quality: Hmm, Better
Colors: Ghostie. Was
gunna do white, but
too hard to read.
| |
|
Ghost-x
Foal
member is offline
Joined: May 2007
Gender: Female
Posts: 8
Location: England :)
Karma: 0 | | Re: F a n t a s m a ::WaitingForTheSunOnAWinter'sD
« Reply #4 on Sept 15, 2008, 3:05pm » | |
Fantasma watched him, curious. Why he had lowered his head to her was a complete mystery. She’d never been treated with free respect before. She didn’t quite know what to make of it, so she simply bowed her own head briefly in response and acknowledgement. She continued to watch him, half hidden in the shadows, preferring the darkness to the light, though his pelt contained both.
Her ears twitched in amusement as his eyes grew wide at the sight of her own, and in response to whatever conclusion he had come to. His words made her pensive for a moment.
“Mayhap I am, mayhap not. Indeed, I do know of you.
It was the stallion of Sapphire Lake, the painted horse who had entered the land with wounds both physical and emotional. His name however, frustratingly evaded her. She felt his gaze penetrate her own, and half wondered what it was he saw. His expression had softened slightly, in recognition or some such emotion. His own beautiful blue eyes were sad, if one looked deep enough. They were the eyes of one who buried a pain deep within. Of the emotions behind those eyes, she knew well. His question brought a smirk to her lips.
“I am a ghost by name, and ghost by nature. But yes, I am real. The body you see is of flesh, blood and bone, not yet of mist and time.”
Her gaze wandered down to his injured leg, which had obviously hindered him even as he had pranced lightly. It has been a long time since I had to tend to another or myself. She thought absentmindedly, and without moving her gaze from his leg, quietly uttered the advice of a healer.
“The resin from Pine bark makes good antiseptic wound wash, should you need it. That and chewing the inner bark of a Willow tree will help pain, and reduce any fever the wound might cause. It does not, however, have the most pleasing of flavours.”
|
VENEZIA
Bite Her. I Dare You.
FANTASMA
Does she cry tears of blood?
|
| |
|
![[Home]](http://i48.photobucket.com/albums/f202/camgryffie/Ice/Home.gif)
![[Help]](http://i48.photobucket.com/albums/f202/camgryffie/Ice/help.gif)
![[Search]](http://i48.photobucket.com/albums/f202/camgryffie/Ice/search.gif)
![[Login]](http://i48.photobucket.com/albums/f202/camgryffie/Ice/login.gif)
![[Register]](http://i48.photobucket.com/albums/f202/camgryffie/Ice/join.gif)
![[Search This Thread]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/search2.gif)
![[Reply]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/buttons/reply.gif)
![[Send Topic To Friend]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/buttons/sendtopic.gif)
![[Print]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/buttons/print.gif)
Logged