take a drunk girl home
let her sleep all alone
leave her keys on the counter
your number by the phone
pick up her life she threw on the floor
The little mare was silent as she crept through the estate her father considered to be his pride and joy. The power it showed with it's size, perfect manicured laws - even in the heart of Solterra, beneath the pounding sun. So perfect, so well maintained, so idealized. The main house was kept lit well, fresh, new furniture with each passing year (sometimes each passing season). New garments for the daughters, jewelry when they asked for it. Perfect princess paraded about and never allowed to be touched. Precious treasures that he would see well sought but matched with ideal, highly ranked males who would give them the finest in life.
And then there was Swahili. The unfortunate product of an affair. A bastard child that was almost turned away the same day her mother left her before the manor and made a run for it. It was Addy who spoke up, swearing, vowing to watch her, help her, protect her - gave her the means to stay. And yet she always felt the outcast. Her father who ignored her existence. Older siblings who scoff at her - the unwanted bastard daughter. ANd now, as a lovely mare, into her prime, while her sisters would have perfect matches made, she knew what awaited her was a match of power. She could be wed off to who ever the highest bidder was. A disgusting older gentleman looking for a fresh, young play thing. A dastardly stallion with a cruel side that needed a pretty princess to pull under his thrall.
Her future was bleak - and with that acknowledgement, came her desires to sneak out, to find freedom where she could. Because she knew her life would forever be tied to her powerful father and his will. Swahili Atraer had no escape in sight. Particularly because Addy's wellbeing depending on her as well, not just because of his troubles lately, but also because the knowledge that her father would willingly hurt her older brother to harm her mentally, to punish her, was well acknowledged. No, unlike that wild, and spicy mare that made her heart ache with the familiarity of freedom and being able to just be the gypsy child she had been raised to be for the first half year of her life; she couldn't just escape and run for it. She had a duty to the House Atraer. She may not be a treasured Princess, but she was still a Daughter of House Atraer, so she would settle with the simple things.
Like sneaking out. Hooves carried her away from her father's home, through the desert as she made way to the Oasis, where a small grotto was hidden by dense foilage. Looking around slowly, she eyed the area around her, making sure there was no one watching. Seeing no one, the desert blossom pushed through the otherwise solid looking wall of vegetation, parting it like a curtain, and slipping into the tunnel behind, following it, pausing occasionally at points where the tunnel diverged, making sure to make all the right turns. Seeing the fabric swaying ahead, the female let a smile break through her muzzle, and she kicked off her hooves, pushing through the fabric and into the set up hidden grotto, fabric hanging from the roof, pillows against one wall, bright colors, patterns, trinkets all reminding her of home with her mother - part of a gypsy caravan. She smiled warmly, settling down into the pillows and rolling to stare up through the whole in the ceiling that flooded this hidden grotto with sunlight that helped feed the vegetation in the area.
It was a lonely existence, both inside and outside of House Atraer, living in solitude as she did, but at least she had some freedoms.
The flush-looking and honestly frail mare threw her head in frustration as mares obviously do, her silken maroon and sliver hair dancing in the glowing moonlight. Did she know where she was, absolutely not. Was this the life of the title she had chosen for herself… absolutely. This was her existence now, all the given consents for the ravages of freedom and what it could offer. Delphine was a wanderer now, her once painfully secluded life of torture and control was now a thing of the past… at least physically… more or less. She was willing and most of the time able to go anywhere and do almost anything for a type of thrill, an event, a rush. In this case it had gotten her in to a bit of an odd situation. But everything at hand was honestly more mild than most things she had encountered recently, at this point she was just lost. Somehow the ballerina type mare had ended up in a place so foresaken that even in the bask of the moonlight the heat still cooked her thin skin.
She was somewhere new, which would generally excite her. The thrill of the unknown, the silence of the night, but this time she had little knowledge of what was even was going on. Thankfully her tendencies were at bay for now. The general pain in her left hip was manageable and she’d gotten down to the realm of “healthy.” So for now she move quiet and quickly. The sound of her hooves as mute as an owl flying, a stark contrast to the volume of the noise inside her head. So in particular nature, she knew she was here but she didn’t exactly know where “here” was. Now in this place was an unsustainable amount of green for what she had remembered from the rest of the scenery in this land. Most of it was sand… hard to walk in and perfect for captives. Solterra? She had heard that name before and she figured it was fitting for the realm she was suddenly in. Land of the sun… where the clouds dare not invade. Though she wished they would.
In the night air her nares widened, the soft scent of water was a confusing one in this desert. She must have been somewhere farther from the main court realms. The terrain was unique for sure though the plants looked very odd just sprouting out of the thin sand. Either way Delphine was just wandering for wandering sake now, taking in the sights and smells. There were some hill made of more solid rock, she knew that one day they two would go to the desert. This night was particularly quiet but the winds were no stranger to these lands. She kept her pace passing though a bit of a narrower corridor of foliage, she assumed nothing scary lived here. But even if it did that probably would not have stopped her anyway. Delphine’s sense of danger was warped at best and downright twisted when it mattered.
She was lost in the nothingness of the land around her when some dents in the sand peaked her interest. The light of the moon gave away these odd dents, upon closer inspection Delphine raised her head in confusion. Foot prints? The night was too quiet for to have not heard anyone so these had to be a bit older. The windless night preserved them for now, they’d be gone tomorrow. But the temporary nature of the prints wasn’t of concern to her now, what was of concern was the prints vanishing in to a wall of various shrubs. The just stopped. What in the… she stepped forward raising her maroon nostrils to the edge of the green. With one whiff she new someone had been here and did not, in fact, just vanish. She raised her hoof, and began gently tapping deeper in to the bush. To her surprise, her foot kept going deeper. With the discovery of the gap she stepped her whole body through. Sure enough there was a passage.
The twigs grasped at her fine long hair, this was of some frustration as she let out a hearty sigh. For so long she never had any hair to grab so now sometimes she would forget that she’d have to mind it at all. The brief annoyance left her though as her gazed in to the dark cavern. Weird vibe…. Nice. She ventured forth, the sounds of her faint hooves now exponentially louder. The acoustics in this cave were amazing if that was the kind of thing you were going for. This was useful because there was little light at best, only the occasional crack illuminated the turns in the cave. This was all great, but Delphine soon found herself caught between two paths. Left or right? Not being one to sit around but still very unsure of the whole thing she called out. "Hello! Someone’s gotta be in here!" she yelled, the distance covered through the caves by the ever fainter echos radiating throughout. She looked around again and sighed, if anything it wouldn’t;t make a bad place to sleep for the night…
"Speech" | TAGS: @Swahili | NOTES: I don’t know why my table looks like this lol
05-12-2022, 04:29 AM - This post was last modified: 05-15-2022, 02:13 AM by Delphine
take a drunk girl home
let her sleep all alone
leave her keys on the counter
your number by the phone
pick up her life she threw on the floor
The summer air was always a welcome experience to the desert rose. The way it seemed to wrap around her and warm her through and through. The mugged humidity that was brought on from the oasis at least offered a bit of relief, particularly with the occasional gust of wind that would sweep through. All of these factors always worked together in a way Swahili could enjoy with in the depths of the cavern system that led to her open-air grotto as well. And wasn't the grotto her best, her favorite find. When she had first discovered it so many weeks ago . . . it had been nothing more than a secreted cavern in the maze of caves. But the open atmosphere provided by the holes that allowed the environment to stream in through the open roof. It had certainly done the grotto favors aplenty, with the numerous flowering vines and plants that were flourishing from both the sun, as well as the shade the grotto walls created. With the small pond of water from drained rainfall; the area had quickly been snuck up by the little mare.
It wasn't too much of a surprise to imagine how she'd changed it for her own enjoyment. The pillows of soft silk and chiffon. Those same bolts of fabric used to drape against the walls, over the roofing to provide additional shade from the hottest parts of the day. The rugs that now colored the floor in comfort. It was a variety of super comfortable aspects that truly make this little grotto her home-away-from-home.
And then it was being intruded upon. The faintest hints of hooves could be heard echoing along the many tunnel systems this odd collection of grottos, caverns, and tunnels that made up the system she'd discovered. An intruder. A stranger. Worse still was when that voice called out, and instantly, the little desert dove was practically plastered flat against the soft silks of the pillows she was leaning into, her eyes narrowing at the cloth-covered entrance to her grotto with the sort of trepidation one is likely to experience in the face of the unknown. Just because it was a feminine voice that called out, demanding that someone to be there (which there was, Swa herself was indeed in the systems), Swa had no idea if this mare was truly alone, if there were any others stalking these caverns, and so Swahili chooses to remain quiet, to wait . . . Just in case the intruder truly didn't have friendly thoughts in mind.
