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Posted: Fri Dec 26, 2025 4:29 pm
(This is a private RP for ToniCourtel's Auqtauvre & "Lady of the Dead" Mictecacihuatl. Please do not post unless invited.)

[Teepee]
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Posted: Fri Dec 26, 2025 4:59 pm
Quote: It was perhaps personal bias to state that the best time to view a potential new homeland was in Autumn, as crops were harvested and the trees were in their autumn finery. So much was stripped away, one could argue it was honest without the stark, bleak somewhat harsh influence of true winter. Others would surely argue for Spring, for its gentle weather and new beginnings, or Summer for the height of frivolity amidst what might be a challenging season. At least one would have an idea of what the fierce temperatures might be like.
All of that being said, Auqtauvre was of such an opinion that Autumn was the best (not just the most tolerable or entertaining). The battle-trained Angeni Hippogryph had come to this place in the depth of fall, when the wind began to bite harder to as it heralded the arrival of winter. No snow yet on the ground, but certainly a great deal of leaves turning into their own crisp cover over the golden and slumbering grasses.
As far as Auqtauvre was concerned, this new land was a far more peaceful one than his homeland. That being said, there was still evidence that one of his stature and skill set could find purpose in this place, could find a place of belonging. Even if it was initially only through useful employ as it were. The black and gold Angeni stallion stretched and folded his sharp, seraph-like wings to his back and gave a heavy snort, clearing his lungs to draw in a deep breath and scan his surroundings. This was where they were supposed to meet, so here was where he would wait. Auqtauvre Wordcount: 280
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Posted: Sat Dec 27, 2025 10:21 am
Quote: Every being had a past, whether or not they remembered it. Mictēcacihuātl, for her part, knew enough of previous lives that she was resolved to do things differently. To begin with, she had done everything she could in several previous incarnations to move away from the realms and lands she was once familiar with. Those she was born to, cast out from, and rose up to build into new kingdoms. Those with kith and kin alike, with loyal and disloyal followers, with friends and fans and enemies. All of them she had left behind, again and again and again.
Emerging somewhere new, worlds away, lifetimes away, she was resolved to start over. A new land, a new home potentially.. But she was still herself, even now. Still Lady of the Dead, festooned in flowers, keeper of bones, she who presides over festivals of the dead.
Even here, in a land where no one knew her. She had made it this far, only time would tell if it was far enough.
Stepping into the grove, Mict lowered her crest in a silent apprehensive way, slicking down her feathers and laying back her ears. She cast a glance around the open space, noting the soft play of light and shadow over the rich carpet of grass, the dappling as it eked through the branches overhead. Stepping into the space meant she could feel the play of light and shadows over her feathers and pelt, the bands of shadow corresponding to cooler points against the dappling light.
Standing on the far side of the grove waited a tall black stallion, fierce and silent, with sharp wings clad in feathers and strange gold light emitting from him. His mismatched eyes cut sharply across the space, and upon noticing her he offered a bow of his head.
"Good afternoon, I hope I didn't make you wait long." "Lady of the Dead" Mictēcacihuātl Wordcount: 312
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