blugilo

[blugilo]

seraphiia​:

on silver wings

Soft laughter bubbles up from her chest as the pegasus leans into her touch, Celica endlessly charmed by the sight. When faced with such a docile creature, it was a wonder why she’d even been nervous in the first place. When agreeable, pegasi were honestly rather cute.

She feels even more comfortable as Palla comes to her side, confident that nothing would go wrong with a professional here to monitor the situation. The queen continues to pet the equine’s nose as the Whitewing speaks to him, but at the older woman’s suggestion, Celica turns to her wide eyed.

“Are—are you sure?” She stammers, “We’ve only just met, after all. It seems rather… forward.”

There’s a snort of playful laughter from Palla and she shakes her head. She had expected that sort of reaction, of course, but it was still incredibly charming. She moves around to the other side of the pegasus’ wings, putting a hand on one gently to see the reaction, but there was only a lazy swish of the tail.

“Of course I’m sure. This is always how folks meet their own companions. It’s...” she pauses to think of an appropriate word. “A trust building exercise. And he’s such a kindly, low temperament fellow it seems.”

After a considerate pause, the whitewing carefully hoists herself atop the pegasus, grateful her relative height made it a bit easier. There was a slight fluttering of wings in response. A success! Honestly, she didn’t really think she still had it in her, considering she mostly just supervised others these days. But a success is a success nonetheless.

“Celica, I promise nothing bad will happen to you. It’ll be... fun.” Palla holds out a patient hand to help her up, though the expression on her face seemed to imply she was okay if she took a ride alone.

[blugilo]

nobletoatea​:

young and restless

Lorenz had never seen pegasus foals up close before. The Gloucester stables boasted of a fine collection of horses, but no airborne creatures. He thought the pegasi season would be unremarkably similar- but the foals were quite cute. They seemed more rambunctious, eager to wobble around and stretch their weak and unevenly fluffy wings. Their magical, fantastic characteristics made them all the more endearing. He coudln’t help observing the main group of them fondly.

He heard Palla before he saw the foal. Lorenz turned towards her voice and then glanced down at the tiny thing headed his way with a glove in its mouth. Like a puppy, he thought.

“Spit it out,” he said gently, bending low to talk to the foal. Its ears stood straight up and it swished its tail, staring blankly at Lorenz. He sighed and held out his palm, pleased when it dropped the glove.

Less pleased when it started licking his arm.

“Ack, hey!” Lorenz snatched the glove up off the ground with his free hand and stood back up, fighting to keep a smile off his face as it blended with general disgust at the horse saliva coating his skin. He wiped his hand off furiously, but guarded the other. The foal followed him and the glove, sniffing his chest and making a noise not quite like a neigh as he held the glove high up above his head with an embarrassed laugh, the foal’s eyes locked on his own and above that, on the glove.

Oh dear. Palla stopped halfway between them to watch with a half-amused, half-curious, the humour she found in the situation easily plastered across her face. Figuring it best if she could relieve the poor student from his plight, she continued over to them.

“Oh, come on little friend.” She crouched slightly to make better eye contact with the foal. “Here, look - I have two gloves.” She held up her other hand to show it to the animal. It returned its interest to her, sniffing about.

“But there’s something you might enjoy even better here..” With a careful pat to the pouch at her side she produced a carrot for the foal, who immediately lost interest in the glove and crunched down on the treat. Palla scratched its ears cheerfully as it did, a small chuckle escaping her. “There you go. Leave the nice young man be, hmm?”

Speaking of... She straightened herself out to look at him before, a look of slight gratitude behind the amused sparkle in her eyes. The poor boy didn’t seem to happy to have the foal slobbering all over him, so the whitewing figured the least that she could do was to save some sense of his ego.

“You rescued my glove! Thank you so much. This little rascal here didn’t seem to happy to part with it, did he?” She laughed lightly. 

[blugilo]

Heralded as a hand in Queen Celica's success, it would be beside Lukas to forget her and her sister's benevolence in the wake of their new country's inception. While the pegasi gamboled awkwardly passed the stables, Lukas saw their freshly scattered feathers as a bellwether of spring's arrival. "Excuse me, Lady Palla." A genial bow. "I had been informed that today was a reason to rejoice. Happy birthday." He imparted a soft pegasus feather quill, mounted with a delicately etched fountain nib.

Though she had little personal connection to the Valentians besides the moments spent alongside Celica and her comrades (seeing as how the trio returned to their homeland shortly after the conflict) the respect with which they treated Palla was a bit embarrassing for her. Yet she was not the ungrateful sort, nor dismissive, and it was more in her nature to take everything in stride with a smile.

“Oh my. How thoughtful of you!” What a gentleman, he seemed, though she supposed there was no obligation for him to have to be nice to her. She twirls the quill around in her fingers, staring at it thoughtfully. “Thank you much. I will try my best not to wear it so thin immediately.” 

[blugilo]

Proving true to his memory of her service in the previous war, a Whitewing’s particular cause for celebration was soon to arrive. “Happy birthday, Palla," Marth accosted the woman with a smile outside the stables, extending a small velvet box. Sitting inside its niche was a jeweled-studded comb of shining silver. “Caeda once told me lances and riding leathers weren’t all the gifts that pegasus knights desired. I hope the theory proves true. Also make no mistake; this is for you, not your steed."

The familiar voice was a welcome sound on that of spending a familiar day away from her family. “Oh, Lord Marth! Thank you so much!” Her surprise heightened at the sight of a gift, and Palla seemed taken aback that he would even consider anything for her.

“Oh my goodness, this is gorgeous.” She took the comb from the box and held it up to be able to shine off the sun, a starry look in her eyes. “Caeda told you rightly, but... anything is always nice to receive from a friend. I will be sure to take the best care of this.”

[blugilo]

Okay, she could do this. Box in hand, she takes a deep breath and approaches the whitewing. Tana had spotted her around the academy, oft in the stables, but was uncharacteristically timid about approaching her herself. From afar, she reminded her of her mentor back home, so maybe that was part of the reason why she hesitated. (1/?)

As certain as she was setting out, there were rare moments where she may fly in the sky and look around her for a friend from back home, only to find wispy clouds and blue skies. Shaking her head, she pushes forward to the knight. "Lady Palla." Tana greets with a warm and welcoming smile.

"My name's Tana, student of the Blue Lion House, and princess of Frelia. I heard it was your birthday today, and so I thought you may like this gift. The colors are symbolic and traditional of Frelia." Inside the box was a pegasus bridle and reins, a deep jade green with silver metal rings and decorative embellishments.

“Ah!” Palla turns in surprise at the voice, a friendly smile filling her expression. She had seen the girl around the stables every now and then, but never really had gotten the chance to talk her. Perhaps maybe it was the colour of her hair, but something about her was reminiscent of her sisters. She takes the box carefully and peeks inside.

“Oh my goodness! These are absolutely darling. This is so thoughtful of you, thank you so much.” She twists part of the reins between her fingers curiously. “Would you like to join me in outfitting my winged companion? I would very much love to hear more about Frelia.”

[blugilo]

celestialbloom​:

on silver wings

The confidence with which Palla carries herself is awe-inspiring, really. There’s little wonder why Est and Catria sing her praises. A sense of admiration swells as the older woman calls the pegasus over with ease, the queen surprised that the notoriously skittish creature seemed so welcoming to their presence—or Palla’s, rather. 

But considering her skill and experience, Celica supposes it isn’t that surprising, after all.

Her eyes are locked on Palla’s gestures, and the pegasus’ reactions to them. Its smooth white coat gleams like silver under the light of the sun, Celica entranced by the sight until a touch at her shoulder pulls the young queen out of her reverie.

“Oh, erm—” She starts a bit and looks to Palla, then to the pegasus, now having turned on her with a watchful, curious gaze. Confidence. Confidence was key. “—y-yes, I believe I shall.”

It is unlike her to be so timid, but this is something entirely new for her, and she doesn’t want to mess it up. But she wouldn’t learn if she didn’t try, and it wouldn’t do her to pass up such a rare opportunity. She’s heard the stories about pegasi, and how hard they were to tame and befriend. Taking a breath, Celica steps forward when the winged equine draws close, and tentatively reaches out to touch its nose.

The pegasus snorts when her fingers make contact, but instead of jumping or drawing back, Celica stands her ground, and begins to lightly rub it on its nose.

Breath caught out of instinct as Celica approached the pegasus. Of course, Palla would never allow her to get hurt but she also didn’t wish to scare off the creature, and so she made herself as scarce as possible. Instinct at this point. 

It escapes as a relieved puff of air as it seemed to work out. Footsteps draw herself to the queen’s side, a warm smile gracing her face. “Look at you. You did a great job! And we managed to score such a handsome fellow as well.” She spoke with a hint of a laugh, placing a hand on the pegasus’ neck gently. 

He gave a flick of an ear in response. Palla couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride well up for her companion. How lovely that she could be here to witness her do something so lovely. It felt a bit nostalgic, honestly.

“You don’t seem to be the reserved type, do you?” She pat the pegasus humourously, who simply swished his tail nonchalantly in response. “I wonder if you’d let us ride you, hmm..?”

She glanced up towards Celica, a mischievous glint in her expression. 

[blugilo]

pegasi? pegasus sisters

[blugilo]

arcstral​:

┊♕ .┊   𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬.

               Streaking across the skies at the vanguard with a hawkish eye locked to her sisters just as well as her enemies, or arranging herself to tread across the earth after their battles with her sweet serenity. A prince-commander of the Archanean League he had been, his thoughts and hands laid collectedly atop the vast war table, but there were times when even he envied this matron’s poise. Perhaps in light of what he has commonly seen from Palla, the many things he has still yet to drew forth an equal and opposite surprise.

               “Embarrassed enough to be driven for days into your cave.. You?” Marth’s eyes widened by a swimmingly azure fraction, before he smiled the look away. “Forgive me for my reaction, Palla. I had always figured you a certain type, so to speak. Matronly as a mother goose and just as unflappable; the difference in image is quite.. How should I put it.. Cute?”

               The playful speculation may have found a finger pensively wagging against his chin, but as a topic of sobriety arose the prince stood unmoving. A sad array of sympathies darted across his face just once for the Whitewing. He had been unable to afford much mind to his Macedonian allies after the war, but he could not begin to conceive their troubles. Roping together a kingdom torn apart at the seams by its prior dictator and the crushing pincer attack Marth himself had proposed to upend Michalis from his fortress.

               “..My condolences. I see the war has scored all of Archanea with its talons and left behind scars in not just Altea alone. It is fortunate that Princess Minerva asserted herself as a noble provider to you and your sisters.” What a motherlode of pride and patriotism the woman must have caused to well from her vassals. Had this prince been otherwise born a knight of endless possibilities, perhaps he too would scramble to Macedon in his haste to serve. He ventured with parted lips to say as much before they promptly shut in on themselves at the woman’s words.

               A sigh instead coursed through him to the marrow, rising and falling beneath the lay of her hand. The subject of his warm chagrin, as if feeling its owner’s resignation through waves in the air, swept its tail with curiosity from lightly afar. “I am sorry to say that you may be right. As an adept handler of pegasi, I don’t suppose you have any tips for a far too loving stallion? When the time comes, I should like to avoid saving him from a wyvern or two.”

Her mother had once told her that it wasn’t simply enough to be strong for her sisters but also for herself.  Palla cherished her late mother dearly but she had to have known that was a heavy burden to put on the shoulders of a young girl. The amount of time it took for her to come into her own would probably surprise the prince, she supposed. Surprised herself sometimes.

“Oh, that reaction is per the norm. As I may seem now, even someone such as myself had the ability to succumb to the tenderness of early teenaged emotions, I’m afraid.” She laughed lightly. The whitewing was confident enough in who she was that she could laugh at herself. “Whenever I have recounted that tale, it was described as many things, although I cannot recall cute being one of them.”

“…Minerva does her best. We do what we must to deal with our issues, and we try to move the hearts of Macedonians as best we can.” Palla knew that her liege was not the sort of bastion for their people that she had hoped, but she worked extra hard to prove herself. And of course, the Whitewings were there every step of the way. Someone else may have blamed the Alteans for aiding in their plight but she was not so naïve to follow that line of thought.

She grew quiet, gazing at the sky just beyond the field. Creatures, just like people, had their own individual personalities. She wished there was a fix-it-all solution, but life wasn’t always so easy, unfortunately. “You want to let him know that what he is doing is not okay, firmly, but not mean. Focus on a sort of bond where he will know that you are disappointed, based on how you feel happy or proud based on other things you do together.”

“Also… he may just need time. Time to grow up and get an understanding, especially between the two of you. You wouldn’t want to hurt his feelings~”

[blugilo]

forlornwyvernrider​:

» heavy rain

The deception might have been unintentional, but it worked. The mention of the two dragons made Gerome doubt if the unfamiliar voice was actually from a friend, distorted only by the heavy rainfall all around them. When she makes her appearance, however, its the green hair that catches his eyes first. 

Nah? Nowi? No, she’s too tall. Tiki?

Neither, it seems. Although the laughter he could easily mistake for one of them. He wears a frown, solitude broken by a stranger, of all people. Luck truly wasn’t with him today.

“I do not own this shack. Do what you will.” Curse curiosity and the trap laid upon him. The mention of Naga he can easily ignore. There are many that have hailed from the same continent that could have found themselves here. He’s hardly religious, but praising a divine dragon he knew to be common. Minerva, however… Was she like Flayn? Another friend from the monastery the lonesome wyvern met at the stables when Gerome was away for missions? His heart ached for her once more… At the very least, its comforting to know Minerva had friends, perhaps even more so than her rider. The only question is, how well does she know her…

“Minerva wouldn’t like flying in the rain.” He sits by the wooden walls of the shack and looks up at the window and the pouring rain, the mention of the wyvern thrown in idly but with familiarity. “Wyverns can easily fly through this weather unlike pegasi and griffons, but its still distasteful. Perhaps its better she’s missing out.”

Fingers curl around long strands of hair to try and wring the wetness from setting in and causing a whole mess. Palla eyes the boy with light curiosity and a bit of amusement. Not quite the abrasive sort, but that rough edge was still there. Well, he didn’t ask her to leave, so there was a little victory.

Still, she was a bit taken aback when he seemed familiar with Minerva. She gave him another look as if studying him. His face was covered so there wasn’t much to be gleaned there, but his hair... Perhaps a distant relative of her lieges that she hadn’t met? Surely she’d have met them all. Well, no matter.

“Hmm... I’m not so sure. Perhaps not a storm of this volume, but a light rain never slowed her down, I imagine.” It rained enough in the mountains of Macedon that Minerva surely would have become a master of weathering the elements. “I suppose it is easier for them to fly, yes, but... Sometimes just watching a rainstorm can be a bit cathartic.” 

Griffons...? Did such creatures really live within their borders? She had never seen one, of course, but her expertise lied elsewhere, so the idea wasn’t so far-fetched. As such, it might save her a bit of embarrassment to not ask the boy, since he seemed to know more than she. 

“Minerva is quite the diligent type, so her finishing what was asked of her despite a rainstorm isn’t surprising... but I do admit, my familiarity with the way wyverns are and what they prefer is unfortunately not as high as I would like, haha.”

[blugilo]

young and restless

Ah, the season that was so reminiscent of home. Long days of wrangling young riders and even younger pegasi. Palla leaned against the fence and watched in quiet amusement as students struggled to wrangling the wobbly foals for grooming. She was just there to ensure that they didn’t do anything foolish.

A particularly curious foal seemed to be poking around an empty trough. She peeked over the fence at it. “Alright buddy, that is enough curiosity for now. If it falls over on you, it’ll hurt, you know.” But it ignored her and continued to nudge it. 

With a resigned sigh, she climbed up the fence and hopped over. She tugged off a glove so she could give him a pat but the mischievous little pegasus looked up at her and took a step away.  But Palla’s patience was never ending and she just waited for it. He took a few steps closer and.... snatched the glove from her other hand, wobbling away victoriously.

“Come on, now.”  She jogged after it, though it seemed to be heading towards a group of students anyway.

flying +1 starter for @nobletoatea

[blugilo]

arcstral​:

𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬.

               As he paid heed to the flier’s advice, her words tugged into place a subtle yet truly pleased expression. Perhaps it was such souls as Palla and Marth who would always see differently from the likes of other commanders. Acknowledging the power of cohesion and bonds—he did not even remotely imagine that the battlefield doyens found in her former despot Michalis, and in King Jiol of Gra or even his own lord father, shared their compassionate twists.

               Success in war, to someone like Marth, was enjoyed greatly by the forces of camaraderie unseen unifying every sword, lance, and axe that swung beneath his banner as one. Every rider and horse, even, as he has observed from the frequent examples posed by Palla and her sisters. Whether the talk of the hour floated to bonds with men or mounts, the prince could surely find something of worth in her counsel. “Your belief is sound, Palla. In the past I have relied on countless friends.. Those whose personalities performed well with my own, and also those whose did not. Given the chance, I imagine even Phobos shall exceed my expectations as many individuals with two fewer legs often have.”

               Tracing Palla’s gaze back to the stretch of emerald turf as not to burden her with his stare, the prince listened without words but with a kindly sense of attention. Even from the corner of an eye his surprise could be seen clearly emoted through an uplifted brow whilst the story unfolded. “..Goodness! I am glad to hear that the situation evaded casualties. Back then I’m sure it was a fearsome situation for all parties involved..” He murmured after a deep pause, finding himself unconsciously surveilling the pegasus in question.

               Tiny sprinkles of amusement flurried across the mind as Marth envisioned the angelic creature being cause for an amply embarrassed Whitewing, one of their continent’s three most adept pegasi handlers, but he dragged back his smile and opted to extend a more helpful suggestion instead. “Though it may sound a touch morbid, I cannot help but think the event shines an admirable light over your character. A pegasus that attacks humans is shameful, indeed, but your Yaya did so in quick defense of her rider. This could only mean that she considered you a master worth serving, and nothing less.”

While she agreed with the sentiment, part of it still weighed heavy on Palla. After all, forging bonds with one another had created a happiness for her youngest sister that she knew she could ever replicate. But that was fine - her happiness lied in the joy of others. She wondered how true that rang for their allies. 

Of course, she couldn’t tell Marth for certain that things would out. She certainly was not psychic and Palla knew that absolutes always found a way to ruin ones expectations. Though, a feeling in her gut told her that the two of them would end up getting on very well. Intuition, perhaps. Things always seemed to work out like that in his favour, she had noticed.

 “Well, my confidence was a bit crushed that day,” she laughed slightly before covering her mouth her hand sheepishly. “Truthfully, I was so embarrassed I didn’t leave my quarters for three whole days!”

“Your words warm my heart, oh please.” Palla waved a hand in a lighthearted dismissal. She did greatly appreciate the words but praise from someone such as himself felt lost on her. She was a soldier and a sister, and not much else, though that didn’t mean she wasn’t susceptible to feeling embarrassed when she did her job well.

“That may be true and yet... Without the support of Lady Minerva, I am afraid my sisters and myself would be out of employment.” With the way things had gone during the war, they almost very well were regardless. “My talent with pegasus does not extend much to wyverns as much, so I am at least grateful it was not one of them who went after that poor boy.”

“...Then again, I am not quite sure one of those would take so nicely to Phobos’ interest in them.” She teased softly, giving her companions shoulder a playful pat.

[blugilo]

New Heroes Are Here! Archanean Summer!

Divine Diver - Marth

Picnic Princess - Caeda

Heatwave Dragoon - Minerva

Summer Whitewing - Palla

[blugilo]

Though heavily mountainous, Macedon often found itself at the mercy of storms that blew in from the ocean. Still, it was a bit of a disappointment to find that the fickleness of the weather would always do as it pleased, even within warmth of sandy dunes and palm trees. 

“Ah, Naga above,” Palla lets out a slight whine of complaint as she ducks into the small shack, hand held above her head as if trying to block the rain. No avail. She winced slightly as just behind her the sky lit up. “You’re missing out on a wild one here, Minerva.”

Her cheerful laugh to herself was cut short as she realized she was not the only inhabitant of the now refuge shack. Her eyes slid over to the boy (no older than her sisters, if she were to guess) with a look of sympathy. It seemed that she was not the only one unfortunate enough to get caught out in the rain.

“Oh! My apologies, I do hope you don’t mind. I will try not to be a bother, promise.” He looked the reserved type by the way he moved away, so she figured it best to spare him trivialities if he didn’t want to entertain her.

» heavy rain

starter for @blugilo

To think paradise had rainfall, too. 

Gerome considered the dark clouds he saw previously as a bluff. This paradise-like location they were sent to by that voice seemed too good– the idea of a storm seemed far-fetched. Yet, here he was, taking refuge in a small shack in the beach as the rain took him by surprise during a long idle walk. 

He didn’t mind too much, this was comfortable, in a way. Silence, just enough cold… he could run through the rain and head back to the resort where most where staying but somehow… this was preferable in his books. There was no one aro–

Just as he was getting comfortable, another person arrives to take shelter. A stranger. He reflexively moves, putting some distance– or as much distance as this small shack would allow– between them. The rain shouldn’t take too lo–

The sky lets out a loud crack, and soon, a booming thunder. The rain started to pour even more, mocking Gerome’s train of thoughts. He clicks his tongue, kicks the ground and simply looks at the falling rain. He refuses to be denied a third time around, so he simply blanks out and succumbs to fate.

[blugilo]

celestialbloom​:

on silver wings

There were many questions she had, the most pressing one regarding Palla’s presence here (and if her sisters had followed), but when the older woman directs her attention back towards the pegasi, Celica turns to watch them with a curious smile. “Oh, very much so. They’re positively majestic.”

As they weren’t native to Valentia, Celica didn’t often get many chances to see them. They were used as mounts by some Zofian knights—such as Alm’s friend, Clair—and a number of nobles would have them imported from Macedon for their personal use. This included members of her father’s court, but due to circumstances, Celica hadn’t been around there for long.

Palla’s question pulls Celica’s mind back to the present, and she turns back to the Whitewing with wide eyes. Could they truly go and speak to one? She’s dealt with some pegasi back in Garreg Mach, but never has she had the chance to interact with one in its—well, not-so-natural habitat.

“Yes!” She chirps, a bit more excitedly than intended. Cheeks warm as she holds a hand over her mouth, and quieter, she repeats, “…Yes, I would like that very much. I shall adhere to your expert guidance on the matter, of course.”

It was a mystery where they had come from, and why they were here, but Palla felt the familiarity of home when she saw them. (A small voice in the back of her head was wondering if they were even real but that was not a question she was willing to entertain at the moment.) Celica’s enthusiasm only added to her comfort. 

“That so? Well, let us give it a go, shall we?” Carefully stepping around the plants they were behind, she let out the familiar whistle that had become an everyday part of her life. One of the objects of interest lifted his head lazily towards her.

“Come on over, bud.” She offered another whistle, holding a hand out. Whether it luck or a miracle (whichever deity may be watching over the island, she wouldn’t know, but she would remember to thank them later) the pegasus turned in lazy curiosity towards them, trotting forward as if there were nothing better to do.

Stepping back, the whitewing put an encouraging hand on her companions shoulder, offering a smile. “Why not give him a pat when he comes over? A little tap, right on the nose.” Home in Macedon, they had always been encouraged to take charge, as confidence was key. She gave the shoulder a small squeeze.

“You can do it, Celica. I believe in you.” (It was mostly in jest, but a bit of encouragement never hurt anyone, anyhow.)

[blugilo]

arcstral​:

               Though his domain was allocated more towards the infantry and cavalry, Marth did not neglect to appreciate the equilibrium between a maiden knight and her pegasus. Few things hoped to surpass their elegance, the deep-seated bond that steadied them against the fiercest of tailwinds, and before him was but one spectacular paragon of these qualities. Minerva’s eldest whitewing, Palla. Upon the light curve of his lips sat an awed and admiring smile, “..Indeed; like steed, like rider. The two of you together strike quite the handsome pair of patience and nobility. I oft wish I could say the same for Phobos and I. ”

              The Macedonian woman’s jest evoked a mirror of the same. Marth even emitting a pleased laugh that reverberated his chest and attracted the dark-eyed gazes of their mounts; a few heartbeats later, the equine twosome returned their heads to nibbling away at the pasturage. “-Hah! I appreciate your honesty well enough. Few have dared to say it, though I know we are misfits in all but appearance. Perhaps I was soundly befooled when Hardin spoke of white horses boasting angelic tempers.”

               Palla’s serene manner of speech and lighthearted teasing squeezed out affection almost inordinately from the prince. Dancing upon the surface they were certainly likable mannerisms, but lying beneath perhaps he also related them a smidgen to his elder sister. With this particular war ally, his reactions came easy, and so too did his notice of her voice and expression gone awry. Marth frowned with slight concern, turning away from the verdant fields. “..I hope you do not mind me prodding, Palla, but I take it you speak from experience?”

Patience was often born of necessity. It was little a secret to Palla the sort of image she gave to others. She also knew that if she had not had to practice the patience required to raise her siblings as a child herself, then perhaps her ability to have bonded with her steed may not have been such a fruitful experience. A flustered smile crosses her face.

“Oh my, you flatter me, truly. I would not be able to serve Lady Minerva very well if I was not very good at flying.” She shakes her head thoughtfully. “His temperament may seem frustrating as it is now, but I do believe that should you need to rely on Phobos in battle, then... the strength of your bonds will reveal themselves. It is the same with people, isn’t it?”

Her eyes flicked back to the field below them, her smile steadfast. Conflict also bore the true nature of those around one. (She couldn’t help but wonder if steeds could tell the truth behind the actions of their masters.) “Of course, of course.”

“It was quite mortifying to myself at the time, but I look back upon it now with a bit of a laugh. It could not have been more than my fourteenth or fifteenth spring and I thought I had finally gotten Yaeri to properly listen to me.” As if knowing that she were being spoken about, there was a flap of wings and a snort. “We was waiting to go back into the stables - they were being cleaned - and one of the young men working came out and bumped into me, causing me to fall over. Thinking I was hurt, Yaya charged to the poor boy. I got it under control but at the time, I just could not believe that had happened.”

Thinking back on it now, Palla was shocked that the her of her youth didn’t simply crumble into an embarrassed pile of dust. Alas, she remained standing, and it might be the least she could do to keep an eye on the prince, lest he too should feel a need to turn into dust - and his reputation was of higher priority than her own, she figured.

[blugilo]

Not due to any fault of any of the people around her, Palla had always been lauded as the responsible one, who would solve issues and conflict if given the opportunity. It certainly wasn’t her job, but as things usually ended up working out, her respected position carried with it a bit of reputation. Even outside of her homeland, she could not help but feel that extended to an extent as well.

However, she would be caught as a liar if she said that hadn’t tried to contain the laugh that escaped her when a story of her dear winged companions’ situation. It was both fortunate and unfortunate that she happen to be acquainted with the owner of the stallion.

“These things happen, I suppose. Though, I do believe if Yaya had thought him annoying, she may have just flown away, but her temperament is that not unlike myself.” Palla seemed thoughtful, but the humourous lilt to her voice revealed her feelings about it. “I have to say, however, I am a bit surprised to see you with a mount, let alone one as… outgoing as dear Phobos seems to be.”

She looked down from their vantage point, a hint of a smile creeping its way to the surface at the others’ embarrassment. “It’s alright, though… The bond between ones mount and rider – it is one forged through years upon years, and is constantly fluid and ever changing. …They will always do something embarrassing though, I’m afraid.”

Her brows furrowed a bit at this - the whitewing clearly had plenty of experiencing dealing with that, it seemed..

Straits of Steeds.

               @blugilo 

               For as long as he was a voyage away, the prince could not be held immediately responsible for the kingdom of his birthright in anything but image. Altea and its people were far off, even despairingly so, but at the very least he has resolved to fulfill the role of his steed’s caretaker with no efforts spared.

               Every remotely suitable afternoon Marth has cut away a small portion of the daylight hours to set Phobos out to graze in the communal pasture. Upon every same such occasion, he has also seen the stallion attempt to fraternize far too comfortably with the same pegasus. Always the same one.

               It mortified him well beyond words! But with all the animals meandering across the grassland unfettered from their identifying saddles and bridles, a solid week passed before he could produce any notion of a name from the rider it belonged to. The truth eventually revealed unto him was a shock- and a curiously welcome one at that. Passing like two ships on a moonless night.. Marth could have spared a few more chuckles for the irony.

               “Goodness, Palla. Had I known that you were the owner of the pegasus my Phobos was so taken by, I’d have spent a few less sleepless nights wondering what sort of apology could ever suffice!” The words drift with humor between the offhand bites of fruit, a foraged apple cupped in his hand as they cast their gazes down from atop the hillock. Watching their mounts with the fond air of two parents eyeing their frolicking children, though Marth himself was vigilant primarily for fear of another amorous mishap.

[blugilo]

She was positive she had seen one land around here. How unlike the mountains at home. Still, even if it was some sort of strange beach area, Palla couldn’t help but figure that pegasi were hardy and independent enough to live wherever they felt like. After all, many places far away had places that they called home as well, and surely they did not have the same environment as Macedon might.

“Ah - Celica.” The surprise in Palla’s voice is drowned out by warmth of recognition for the princess. No, queen at this point, wasn’t it? She blinked back towards the pegasi quietly, lowering her voice quite a bit. “The same reason I assume you are well? They are lovely, aren’t they?”

A finger curls around a loose strand of hair as she watched them, recalling not only when she had to help her sisters win the trust of their mounts, but other young, eager riders as well. What a fond memory, from before they were forced to put the bonds they had forged to the test.

“...Would you like to try and see if we can call one over?” A smile of almost child-like eagerness spread over the Whitewing’s face, as she watched one of them give its wings a tired-looking flap. (There may have been a hint of mischievousness hidden behind it if one knew to look for it.) “If they live in such an agreeable environment, they might be as such, wouldn’t you think?”

on silver wings

{ @blugilo }

How odd.

During her walk through the forest, Celica comes upon the most surprising sight. Pegasi, gathered in a clearing. Though they were not native to Valentia, she’s read about them in many a book; of how they preferred to live in forests, plains, or elevated, cooler areas. And yet here they were in the middle of a tropical island, drinking from a lake in the sweltering heat.

Perhaps they stopped for a drink because they were hot, Celica thinks to herself, lingering behind a curtain of trees as she watches them. The queen makes no noise, or attempts to move. From what she’s read, pegasi could be rather skittish, and she was loathe to scare any of them away.

But the sound of crunching leaves behind her causes Celica to start, sunset ringlets bouncing as she whips her head over her shoulder. Instantly, she is met with a kind pair of emerald eyes—though not the one she was used to seeing—and sighs in relief, as Palla’s countenance comes into recognition.

“…Oh, Palla. I have to admit, you gave me quite the scare.” She says sheepishly, keeping her voice low so as not to disturb the pegasi, “What brings you here?”