Ashe listened attentively as Anivia listed off their options, though she seemed to be hinting towards something specific. What the Cryophoenix said made sense - she had no idea where she was and while Ashe thought herself a capable scout, the Vortex had tossed and turned her so much she did not quite know where was where. Ashe ascertained that she could ask Anivia, but again, she was right. The Archer did not know how long she could keep herself warm out in this weather, especially in her state of undress. Her tribe was living in the same camp for almost a month, and that in itself was strange. Ashe would not be surprised if they had already packed their tents.
When Anivia lifted a very sharp looking talon, Ashe eyed it with trepidation and understanding. If those wicked things were to dig themselves into her already bruised skin, even if the Cryophoenix was gentle, she doubted she could stay conscious. So she shook her head, "No, that's fine." The other option was no less dangerous in her eyes. If she could not hold on, she would fall to her death or she would be punctured by what she supposed was a mythical creature until recently. Then again, Ashe somehow knew that she would not let go.
So with a little difficulty, she swung her bow stiffly around herself, the cold arc of her weapon pressing into her back uncomfortably. This left her hands free to hold onto whatever it is she needed to. Ashe glanced at Anivia, ignoring the shivers and chills crawling up her spine and the writhing in her stomach. The closest experience she would have had to this was in her dreams: flying and soaring beyond the clouds and snowfall, beyond the storms and lash of rain and beyond reach and touch. "Ready when you are." She declared nervously.
Post by The Cryophoenix on Feb 14, 2014 2:17:49 GMT -5
Anivia watched the grim-determination in the archer’s eyes as she began to consider her situation. At the mercy of the Freljord, she certainly would have fallen, will to live or not. Yet fate had brought them together. Her crest flattened against her neck in concern. Very few who were not born to the ways of flight could prepare themselves for the trial. Yet with the bow of true ice strapped upon her back, this woman appeared ready to accept the challenge.
She nodded in admiration of the woman’s bravery, yet their passage wasn’t clear yet. “In the air, the wind’s strength will only grow. If you’re truly uninjured by the contact, I can protect you from it if you lie tight against my back.” It was a devil’s bargain that she offered: to cling to an embodiment of cold itself that it might not claim her in the winds. The feathers of her back began to stiffen with frost, a thin white sheen of crystal to stand between archer and elemental. It would not be much, but it was the most she could offer to ease her companion’s pain. “I cannot say this will be easy for you. Flight is unnatural to those who live their lives bound to the ground.”
With a careful gesture, she unfolded her wings as she approached the archer. Her body was streamlined, offering nothing but plates of ice to cling to, even the spines of her crest flattened flush against her head. She knelt quietly, allowing time for the archer to come to terms with the effort she faced. “I should expect you would best wrap your arms about my neck and brace your legs under my tail. I will do my best to keep both steady.” Briefly she considered the position in which she had placed herself. Hundreds of creatures she had watched flounder and die at the mercy of the cold, offering the gift of flight to only the oldest and dearest of friends. Why then, did she wait upon this woman of the north with only a weapon if great power she poorly understood?
Despite the brevity of their meeting, Anivia knew that a bond had formed between them. Whether Ashe learned to control the power she wielded or remained a pure soul seeking to survive in the harshness of the Freljord, neither would forget the the steps they had taken together. “I beg you hold tightly, young one, lest this journey be a short one indeed. I will hear you if you need call for relief.”
Ashe was too busy taking deep, steady breaths to really listen to what the Cryophoenix had to say. The chilly, biting air rapped at her mind and clawed at her throat but it cleared her eyes and sharpened her senses all the same. She didn't know what would happen if she fell and she doubted there was anything she could do. These thoughts continued to circle around her like the war horns that sounded back at the place she called home. Would they sound the horns if they saw a creature like Anivia approach them? Would they shoot them both down?
"... Flight is unnatural to those who live their lives bound to the ground.”
The archer almost laughed, but her nerves were still tingling like no other. So she smiled instead, just a small curve of pale lips, "The closest I've been to flying was when I was tossed around like a rag doll in that Vortex." She lifted a delicate eyebrow, wincing as taut skin pinched at a fresh bruise, "Well, it felt more like falling though if I had to be honest, there was nothing much to feel." Ashe frowned, then was quiet as she pondered, really pondered, over what had transpired.
There had been no pain, only an eternal blanket of darkness that doused her world in a dull sounds and inky black. There had been swirls of miniscule lights, flickering in and out of existence and it had felt like her body was both floating and dying at the same time. There were humans screaming and nature howling and the sounds of ripping and tearing darting in and out her ears and still, she was floating. She could have reached out to touch the sky if she wanted to, but she couldn't. There was nothing to move. It was as if her limbs had been stripped away leaving only just a shell, a mere ghost of a simple girl who wanted nothing more from the world than what it could already offer. It was a suffocating heaviness where she could breathe yet could not. Where she could feel and hear, but it was not her but another her; she had lost something more than her friends in that storm, and it had been ripped to pieces.
It was a strange experience and something Ashe never wished to go through again.
Ashe shook her head viciously, clearing the hazy memory away before transitioning to a quick nod. It was a spastic movement and it made her slightly dizzy. "Alright," she responded, taking an unsteady step forward. The ice crunched beneath her boot, her bare hands reaching out to touch the feathers encased in a quiet blanket of snow. The tingle was muted, but as more of her flesh came into contact with the buzz of ice that was alive, she felt a familiar shooting pain lance through the veins in her arms. It was not unlike the very first time she had touched Avarosa's bow but this time, the slow fire remained.
Her arms ached; she felt as if her bones were stiffening and her skin was cracking. Her breath was cold and her body surged forward by itself as Ashe threw her hands and forearms around the Cryophoenix's thin neck. It was almost as if she was desperate to hold onto something, to herself, as her thoughts rang in her ears. She pushed her form flush against Anivia's back, her heart beating wildly in an attempt to keep her blood pumping. In retrospect, taking things slow would have been a better option but there was no time to do things over.
Ashe pressed her face into her own shoulder, and out of everything she could have said, she simply heaved a long breath and muttered, "I'm sorry." She was worried that her frantic actions may have made Anivia uncomfortable, or perhaps it had been rude to suddenly throw herself so brazenly at a Cryophoenix. Nevertheless, the archer knew that if she let go, her body would refuse to hold on again. She shifted herself up, her legs awkward moving to find a secure place and when she finally realized that she would never really feel safe enough, she swallowed lightly. "I'm ready."
Post by The Cryophoenix on Feb 23, 2014 1:34:40 GMT -5
Anivia waited patiently: it was no simple request that she had made of the archer. The trial of trusting one’s fragile life fully to a creature she had not even known existed was not lost on the Cryophoenix, “I can only guess what happened to you in the depths of that storm. It is no natural thing, much more than the ice and winds that drive it. I assure you that I will do my best to keep you safe.”
She turned her head slightly to measure the archer’s uneasiness, only to see her lurch forward without warning. An expected warmth began spread from the human’s fingertips as a hand lighted upon her mantle. Yet despite the unsteadiness of her body, with her mind made up, the archer was quick to act. Anivia staggered slightly as the full weight latched itself to her back. To carry prey of far greater size was little challenge for the Cryophoenix, yet to protect a delicate package upon her back was abnormal to say the least.
Her feathers shifted slightly as she tested her mobility. It would not due to make promises only to fall from the sky herself. Her great wings stretched to their full limit, the archer safely ensconced between them. What was once as stinging warmth slowly began fade as the body cooled against her. The flight would need to be swift. Her voice was low and calm, trying to sooth her charge, “We each do as we must when we are called.” She swept her wings more violently, a shower of snow and ice erupting from the ground before them as she hopped a step backwards. “Shout to me if you need relief. I will hear you.”
With that she crouched low to the ground, her wings spread wide, and lept into the air. She could feel her burden shift upon her back as she launched forward, each wingstroke increasing the pressure upon her neck. While the grip did not loosen, Anivia could feel her companion’s burden as she struggled to cling to life itself. The valley opened up before them, yet no human settlement was permanent in this region, a mere smattering of wanderers. She spread her wings fully, wheeling slightly in the sky that Ashe too might see the landmarks of the Freljord, “There is no time for fear, young one.” Her voice boomed over the wind. As her efforts temporarily ceased, they began to sink in through the air, the overwhelming sensation of falling gripping them both, “Find me the markers on the path to your tribe and I will seek them out.”
The wings that billowed out like a ship's sail only seemed to reinforce the fact that Ashe was truly and utterly terrified of her feet leaving the ground. But she said nothing, only pressed her lips together tightly and nodded. Her fingers shifted against the cold, the prickling needles of frost gripping her bones tightly. She felt the shower of ice against her back and on the patches of bare skin, shuddering slightly. "Okay," the archer managed to respond, if only to notify the Cryophoenix that she had not quite collapsed from anxiety quite yet.
Before she could collect herself and before she could even inhale, her body was arched upwards, flying towards the sky and Ashe clamped her nails into her own skin. She muffled back a cry of surprise and sudden fear. Her stomach was churning, her skin clammy from sweat and cold from everything else. Some part of her wanted to be dropped, and another part of her wanted the Cryophoenix to stay still, suspended in the winter air while she caught her breath forever.
When Anivia called to her, Ashe shook her head. Did the Phoenix truly expect her to look down from so high up? She exhaled loudly in an attempt to discover her courage, though she feared she had left most of it on the ground. She peered over her shoulder, her eyes watering and dilated but she saw it: Freljord. A canvas of white dotted in grey and brown mountains, and forests so green they were black clumped together like mold on bread. She could see everything and nothing and her vision went bleary.
"I can't..." She murmured and they were sinking, down towards solid earth and land and her heart seemed to make her throat its permanent residence. Ashe's eyes opened (when had they shut?) and she looked once again, searching helplessly for these 'markers'. Flags, tents - but they could belong to any tribe. The nomads of Avarosa didn't leave clues. She sighed into her skin, goosebumped flesh hot and cold as her teeth left small indents into the bruised limb. "This is fruitless."
Post by The Cryophoenix on Mar 2, 2014 9:34:24 GMT -5
The sky was a place of wind and nothing, the alternating blasts of winds and absolute silence of its absence wrecked havoc on the senses. Despite the calm demeanor she presented to her passenger, Anivia was struggling to maintain her course. Heavy feathers of ice began to ripple as they lost their grip upon the air: their gliding course becoming nothing more than a careening fall from the skies. Yet to bring a land-dweller to this place and expect her to see anything without some stability was folly. The seconds ticked by as the archer gathered her courage, and Anivia began to doubt the efficacy of her plan. Could a human even recognize landmarks from above?
Just as she began to turn her head in distress, she heard the archer’s call. She clamped her beak shut with agitation to give her the vital extra moments she might need to gain her bearings only to hear a proclamation of failure. “Hold tight, young one.” It was all the warning she could give as she acquiesced to nature’s demands, tilting her head toward the ground. In a heart-wrenching dive she gathered the air around her once more and with a grunt of effort began to fight her way back toward the clouds.
As she climbed, she spoke to the archer upon her back, the words laced in the very winds that tore away at her frail clothing, and clawed her exposed flesh with fingers of ice, “To search for your people is fruitless, but to find yourself is your goal. You would not travel without landmarks to guide your way. Find them, and point me toward where your people could be, and I will do the finding.” With a calming breath she leveled out once more, snapping her wings into a steady glide. The land was open before them once more, not a wasteland of white, but a tapestry of colors. Great mountains climbed still ahead of them, patches of snow and dark rocky outcrops giving each a unique face. Peaking green boughs of snow-laden forests snaked through their valleys, while the dark rock spires of ancient fortresses stood testament to the humans prowess in the distant past. “Let the earth be your guide, and try one last time before we find you a place to rest.”
Her fear of extreme heights was only somewhat dampened by her determination to seek out the place her tribe had called 'home'. They were falling, not flying, Ashe feared yet another half of her reassured her panicking brain that Anivia would not go through such lengths to save her only to kill her. That was deliberately though - anything could happen as an accident. If she fell... well, if she fell, then she fell. But what if...
Ashe was far too busy deciding what she was going to do and how she was supposed to feel that Anivia's warning went unnoticed and she all but screeched out a loud, high-pitched yell of surprise. The Cryophoenix had streamlined her body and suddenly, the wind breaking against Ashe's face and boxing her around the ears. She felt just about ready to throw up her heart, and she seemed fairly close to doing so when Anivia broke against the air and began to fly upwards once again.
"Landmarks?" Ashe gasped, trying to catch her breath and hear Anivia over the ringing bounding in her ears. They did set up small flags or etch Avarosa's sigil into bits of bark or stone, but those were far too tiny to see from the sky. They were trackers, not fliers. Their own would be able to see the sign from an impressive distance, but not when their heads almost touched the clouds. So instead of looking for something from her tribe, she decided to look for something that had come from them.
"Th-there was a... a twisted tree that we passed, it looked like a bear standing tall but in pain. There were red streaks all around it and on it and one of our own saw it as.. a sign. He was awake the whole night carving something into it." It was easier to speak now, but Ashe had to continually lick her lips to keep them from drying out. "It wasn't far from our main camp - only an hours walk but again, they could have left already. The would not trust Freljord's wintry tempers."
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