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 Posted: Mon Jan 21, 2019 12:59 pm
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Posted: Mon Jan 21, 2019 1:17 pm
Quote: Tarshna: -headtilts- Khaj: The stallion smirks at the mare and shrugs his wings. "You can say he's handsome, it's okay." Tarshna: -thwaps him- Quote: Muna: Stares at everyone and flexes her wings I have So many questions. Quote: Kasomba: "Do you? That's brave." Quote: Muna: ...Is it though? Or is it reckless? Quote: Kasomba: He considers her for a moment before smiling. "Well, I mean, I was being polite. But you have a healthy amount of self-awareness." He shifts slightly and leans closer to the mare. "What are your questions?" Khaj: -rolls eyes- Quote: Peska: standing behind Muna staring off into space Muna: My father said that I could ask life's questions.. But I have to be smart about it.. Looks up at him quietly. What aren't my questions? Like. Why chains? Those must be the most uncomfortable things ever. Quote: Khaj: -blinks at Peska and meanders closer- You.. you ok? Kasomba: "He sounds like a smart father." The stallion snorts. "That? Of all questions?" It isn't surprising, so he shrugs. "I was held captive, I escaped. They are a reminder." Quote: Peska: Looks at Khaj as he breaks focus.. Yes? Why do you ask? Muna: Looks up at Khaj and then back at Peska. Mmh, he has ADHD.. Eyes glancing back to Kasomba. Weird.. But I guess it's understandable.. Why were you captured? Quote: Khaj: You just seemed a little adrift so I thought I would ask? -glances to Muna- Oh, ok. Kasomba: He shifts a bit on his hooves. "Well... My herd stood as a threat against a greater power. We had keen warriors, and many of us were beautiful. When they attempted to recruit us, we declined. So their herd swept over us like the tide, and before their forces, our warriors were overcome. So then, we were taken captive and offered the option to stand loyal among their number or to be held captive until we changed our minds." Quote: Peska: Just was concentrating on something I forgot already.. squints at his memory. Thanks for the concern :>!!! Muna: Oh! You have a history much like my dad's.. Though it was more about death than captives? Quote: Khaj: Oh, sorry to interrupt then. ^.^;; Sure thing. Kasomba: "I am sorry to hear that, it is a shame that such herds cannot learn to go in peace." He sighs and shrugs. "I do not think death was an initial goal. They were after some of our warriors for their skills, and perhaps some of our mares for their beauty. We held our own for a time, but they had several Angeni on their side with a great many gifts. In the end, well-enough was not enough." Quote: Peska: Oh.. No it's totally ok. I don't know I'm doing it half the t-- -looks at a butterfly- ime.. Muna: His was eradicated by a kalona herd that hired Skinwalkers.. But all is ok! The herd still stands. My aunt is the leader beams My parents weren't allowed to be together when they were kids living in the herd.. But it enabled them to get away and refind each other. Quote: Khaj: Alright. So long as you're not offended. I'm usually better about sticking my nose in things, or I have friends that keep me out of trouble. -chuffs in amusement- Kasomba: "That doesn't really sound too pleasant, no. I've not encountered Skinwalkers up close and personal, but I imagine they would be fierce. To find a herd hiring them to destroy you would be, well, more than a little daunting." He shakes his head at the thought. "That they survived is incredible. I am glad your family survived such a horrific past. Honor also to your aunt, as herd leader." With a faint smile, the stallion offers a quick bow. Quote: Peska: Ehn, I've got a rowdy, giant family. I am sure you'd understand. Chuckles, knowing about the Fayths in some way. I would be the one keeping my family out of trouble. My brother is pretty much the biggest troublemaker.. and my Uncle Con.. Con: I RESENT THAT. Peska: I'm older than you so you have to listen : | Con: Fine. Muna: Mmh, never had the chance to meet one myself, I would love to meet one that has been charmed. I have many questions for their ilk! Like do you eat meat being a Kalona!? Or are you half? Quote: Khaj: Oh, that sounds awfully nice. I have a giant family but they're quite, restrained? Elegant and somewhat distant. I am not particularly close to them, as a result. I rather prefer the option to wander, rather like my mother in that aspect I suppose. -*grins*- Troublemakers aren't so bad, they keep things interesting. Kasomba: Probably fortunate, that being the case. Considering their typical demeanor, I imagine it doesn't go particularly well for those whom happen to cross paths with a Skinwalker. They would be more likely to savage or destroy you than to talk decently, which would probably ruin one's day. -*blinks and tilts his head*- Uh. I'm not? You've mistaken me, madam. I happen to be a Suti, Shadow Suti, to be exact. Part of the interest in our herd happened to be our gifts, as such. No Kalona here, I'm afraid. -*gives a fanged smile*- I can eat anything.
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Posted: Sun Apr 19, 2020 3:59 pm
Quote: There were times when Kasomba Anšar missed his old herd, his family, for all that he was never much one for social events. The presence of his siblings in this new land soothe some of that, but there is little one can do to counter the rosy tint that often accompanies memories of the past. The Shadow Song Herd had been a somewhat unorthodox one, a loose collection of Clans and Families that interacted on rare occasions, but otherwise kept to themselves. They held the territory through numbers and range more than anything else and were woefully unprepared for any sort of coordinated attack by an invading force.
In their defense, it had never been an issue before... But it was certainly the sort of thing that would at least eventually be a problem, and once it was a problem, there was certainly no chance of quick reaction that would lead to a lessened impact. The initial overtures by the WarBand were easily rebuffed, a quiet declaration of disinterest. The second wave, where the herd actually attacked, crashed over them like a great wave.
He is still not sure how many of the herd died in the attack or if any of his friends or close kin were among them. He does know that several of the herd were lost in the first wave, felled by the warriors that swept over them. He hopes that the foals escaped, that some of the nurse mares had the chance to get them away while the warriors were busy felling or capturing the young stallions or fighting off some of the adults. They weren't among the captured, as far as he had seen. Those were young adults, he and his four brothers among them.
His brothers had come with him to this new land, had escaped the rush of the Warring herd, still bound in the chains of their captivity. Even if they had escaped together, they did not remain in each other's company. Easier to remain free and unnoticed on a solo basis, rather than a band of four with the same appearance and the trappings of chain. In spite of their separation, he saw his brothers now and then, often one on one. As far as he could tell, they were content, happy even.
Something he was working on for himself. Quote: Happiness isn't the easiest thing, particularly not for the young stallion formerly abducted during the careless slaughter of his herd and family. Being social is also something he has limited experience with, having spent the whole of his life in his home herd territory. Suddenly adrift from the only home he has ever known and still draped in the chains of his captivity, he wanders. The WarBand of the Great Herd that had destroyed his home was on the move again, and it was only through good fortune that he had managed an escape. Fleeing to a land he hoped they would have no cause to visit, he now wanders through this new land in the wake of a herd that seems to have made quite an impression.
The Lapsang Traveling Faire and Reenactment Troup has quite the following. A group of actors that act out scenes of grand battles, as well as members skilled at telling stories and singing songs, dancers and various musicians. A wealth of artisans and craftspersons, as well as cooks and food vendors. Weavers, Jewelers, Glassmakers, Lanternmakers, Chandlers, Florists, experts in pottery, dye, textiles and more. He learns quite a bit of this from envoys of their host herds, whose territory he skirts on his arrival. The Reenactment Faire apparently has quite a following, with many of the envoys cheerfully pointing Kasomba himself and other wanderers in general in the wake of their path.
In spite of himself, Kasomba is intrigued enough to continue his pursuit of the herd. There's no need to hurry, he knows he'll catch up to them sooner or later.
Total WC: 659
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Posted: Fri Nov 12, 2021 4:37 pm
Quote: Kasomba did his best to settle his restless heart as he shook off the fatigue of travel. Shaking from nose to tail he planted his hooves a little wider as if an unsteady foal getting used to his legs, his chains ringing softly as he stood on the outermost edges of a grand field. He couldn't help but cling to the dark for an extra moment, rather lurking in the shadow of the woods as he considered what sprawled before him. Solitary weeks of travel behind him, and an overwhelming wall of sound and socialization standing before him.
Still, there was a sense of accomplishment, of victory. He had done it, at long last. He had finally caught up with the Lapsang Traveling Faire and Reenactment Troup, encountering the gay sound of music, theater, and laughter long before the tents, booths, and stages were within sight. It was a riotous affair of color, material, sound; a stunning swirling assortment of Soquili, Familiars, and all sorts of friends yet to be met or made. All he had to do was step away from the comfortable solitude of the woods, of shadows, and step forward into their midst. Maybe he would finally find what he'd been looking for in their midst. Though there was no guarantee, it was at least as likely as any place else, and perhaps a great deal more promising than the first few he had considered.
"Alright then, here I go," 'Somba murmured to himself and stepped forward at a smart trot, his mane whispering in the breeze and chains chiming softly with the movement. The sharp cut of his hooves thumped rhythmically over the emerald grass, striking the occasional rock with a smart chiming tone like obsidian on stone. "Let's all go to the Faire."
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