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Description

Featuring Enda and Deirdre
End of Fall, Year 767 of the New Age
Glenmore, The Glenwood

Enda normally was full of annoyance with the world at large. Today she was positively brimming over with it and she even had company to share in her endless irritation. The grand gala, a ridiculous show of doe-flesh for sale or barter, was to take place. Her companion, Dei, stomped a hoof and dug at the ground as a bright purple flower was worked into the braid. The Ram’s participation was more coercion, her pig-toed cousin orchestrated a bet in which the inky doe was now honoring. To walk the path lined by all in the herd, from commoner to Royal in a show of beauty and availability… or redemption. The Ram clearly was not available in any sense of the word with her belly round with foal. Her beauty was in her strength, which was not a cultural standard in Glenmore. So Enda worked with the third goal in mind- and set both herself and her pet upon the Ram with the intent to tame and charm the wildness innate in Dei into something the dark doe could be proud of.

Though the fight with beautification was not going very well at all, and the two does were in even more sour moods with the magpie oblivious to it all.

Enda laid her ears back and worked her magic into the ground at their feet, teasing roots out of seeds and giving the unusual choice of plant for plaits a burst of energy to bloom it. Bright purple blossomed in a fat fuzzy flower, a perfect contrast to the simplicity of Dei’s coat. The Ram did not need boughs of foliage to hang from her hide. The rest of the plant was green and thorny, typical of a thistle. The flowers were also something that no one else would even dream of putting in their neatly done braids and weavings. Thistles were not a nice plant to work with if you were looking to weave something into it, and it was often over looked due to the thorny nature of the rest of the plant. The prickly vegetation was nearly a signature of the towering black doe, in likeness and personality. Few would get the subtly though, if they didn’t know The Ram, which was just as well.

In contrast , The Trap’s mane was already done up , several braids cascaded down on one side, lined with half of the Glade’s flowers in her mother’s attempt to pretty-up the refuse. Clever little squirrel paws wove in so many flowers a headache was forming right between the doe’s eyes from the weight of them all. She growled at the Ram as she worked and Dei growled back.

The project of taming the Ram’s wild tresses into something manageable and appropriate for an event neither one of the doe’s wished to be apart of was wearing on both of them. Enda had wrestled Dei's mane into a braid that accentuated the arch of the dark doe's neck. This whole affair though was made a bit harder by Enda’s helper- a magpie she named Hassle. To be fair, Hassle was good, and clever and could work with dedication when enough incentive was provided but he lack an awareness or a concept of personal space. Hassel could also be distracted by shiny or colorful objects, which happened to be the point of the day’s exercise and so Enda was endlessly redirecting her pet, who was continuously putting beak or foot in places where he probably shouldn’t.

While Hassel worked another bloom into the thick black braid that trailed on Dei’s neck, Enda worked nearby using her magic. Thistle after thistle came up at the doe’s hooves- and the bright purple flowers that topped them were quickly snipped off by an energetic magpie and brought to the dark doe to stick in her braid.

There was movement and Enda noticed Dei’s ears pinning back. Hassle was trying to find a good approach to putting the next blossom in but had the unfortunate presence of self to be sitting on the long nose of the Ram while he figured it out.

Enda’s ears laid back farther, “ Do not bite him.”

Dei looked at her companion with a level of irritation that if was a given form, would have drowned half the world, “ Tell him to get off my FACE.”

The pearled doe nosed the silly magpie off of the larger doe’s nose and redirected him, yet again, to stand only on Dei’s neck. After Hassle securely placed the flower, she gave the black and white corvid a small and tasty treat: a blackberry. When his work was over he would get the larger treat, a mouse that Enda had found and dispatched quickly with one sharp delicate hoof strike. She hid the mouse near by under some bark when the bird wasn’t looking. The magpie would do anything for a bit of meat, and Enda used that to her advantage.

Enda ground another de-blossomed thistle back into the ground, taking some satisfaction at the destruction of the plant after having to blossom, yet again, one of the prickly bastards only to snip the flower off and use it as decoration. The waste added to Enda’s irritation, aware that she was sporting half a field in her own locks and her mother’s magic as a favor. It was her father that had pushed her to go, stating in no uncertain terms that she was to be presentable until such time that a stag claimed her as their own. If she did not she’d face being disowned immediately by her father- which would put a crimp in her current plans. She was to remain as unassuming as long as she could. Unassuming did not mean she would hang her head and act all shy and delicate. Enda may be all long limbs and slim lines but she was a bold doe and she would walk down that aisle with her nose in the air. She wasn’t in need of any stag, and she did not have to prove herself to any fawn.

But she could mess with them.

Enda redirected Hassel briefly to stash a few seeds and cuttings of a most annoying plant in her hair: snow-in-the-mountain.

An aggressively invasive weed- wherever it lands, the plant springs forth. If dug out of the ground, the entire plant must be taken out, for even the smallest rhizomes left in the soil will cause the plant to grow again. Enda decided that she would go with the variegated variety. It would be a pretty show, the ground of the gala-walk marred by a pathway of green and white plants that she magically forced to grow. It was petty of her perhaps. But, it would make for an entertaining show nonetheless.

Dei snorted, noticing what Enda was doing. For the first time that day, Enda smiled. She forced the last thistle to bloom with her magic and whistled Hassel over to retrieve it. Maybe today would not be so bad after all?

Word count: 1159
A post for The Grand Gala

Description

Featuring Enda and Deirdre
End of Fall, Year 767 of the New Age
Glenmore, The Glenwood

Enda normally was full of annoyance with the world at large. Today she was positively brimming over with it and she even had company to share in her endless irritation. The grand gala, a ridiculous show of doe-flesh for sale or barter, was to take place. Her companion, Dei, stomped a hoof and dug at the ground as a bright purple flower was worked into the braid. The Ram’s participation was more coercion, her pig-toed cousin orchestrated a bet in which the inky doe was now honoring. To walk the path lined by all in the herd, from commoner to Royal in a show of beauty and availability… or redemption. The Ram clearly was not available in any sense of the word with her belly round with foal. Her beauty was in her strength, which was not a cultural standard in Glenmore. So Enda worked with the third goal in mind- and set both herself and her pet upon the Ram with the intent to tame and charm the wildness innate in Dei into something the dark doe could be proud of.

Though the fight with beautification was not going very well at all, and the two does were in even more sour moods with the magpie oblivious to it all.

Enda laid her ears back and worked her magic into the ground at their feet, teasing roots out of seeds and giving the unusual choice of plant for plaits a burst of energy to bloom it. Bright purple blossomed in a fat fuzzy flower, a perfect contrast to the simplicity of Dei’s coat. The Ram did not need boughs of foliage to hang from her hide. The rest of the plant was green and thorny, typical of a thistle. The flowers were also something that no one else would even dream of putting in their neatly done braids and weavings. Thistles were not a nice plant to work with if you were looking to weave something into it, and it was often over looked due to the thorny nature of the rest of the plant. The prickly vegetation was nearly a signature of the towering black doe, in likeness and personality. Few would get the subtly though, if they didn’t know The Ram, which was just as well.

In contrast , The Trap’s mane was already done up , several braids cascaded down on one side, lined with half of the Glade’s flowers in her mother’s attempt to pretty-up the refuse. Clever little squirrel paws wove in so many flowers a headache was forming right between the doe’s eyes from the weight of them all. She growled at the Ram as she worked and Dei growled back.

The project of taming the Ram’s wild tresses into something manageable and appropriate for an event neither one of the doe’s wished to be apart of was wearing on both of them. Enda had wrestled Dei's mane into a braid that accentuated the arch of the dark doe's neck. This whole affair though was made a bit harder by Enda’s helper- a magpie she named Hassle. To be fair, Hassle was good, and clever and could work with dedication when enough incentive was provided but he lack an awareness or a concept of personal space. Hassel could also be distracted by shiny or colorful objects, which happened to be the point of the day’s exercise and so Enda was endlessly redirecting her pet, who was continuously putting beak or foot in places where he probably shouldn’t.

While Hassel worked another bloom into the thick black braid that trailed on Dei’s neck, Enda worked nearby using her magic. Thistle after thistle came up at the doe’s hooves- and the bright purple flowers that topped them were quickly snipped off by an energetic magpie and brought to the dark doe to stick in her braid.

There was movement and Enda noticed Dei’s ears pinning back. Hassle was trying to find a good approach to putting the next blossom in but had the unfortunate presence of self to be sitting on the long nose of the Ram while he figured it out.

Enda’s ears laid back farther, “ Do not bite him.”

Dei looked at her companion with a level of irritation that if was a given form, would have drowned half the world, “ Tell him to get off my FACE.”

The pearled doe nosed the silly magpie off of the larger doe’s nose and redirected him, yet again, to stand only on Dei’s neck. After Hassle securely placed the flower, she gave the black and white corvid a small and tasty treat: a blackberry. When his work was over he would get the larger treat, a mouse that Enda had found and dispatched quickly with one sharp delicate hoof strike. She hid the mouse near by under some bark when the bird wasn’t looking. The magpie would do anything for a bit of meat, and Enda used that to her advantage.

Enda ground another de-blossomed thistle back into the ground, taking some satisfaction at the destruction of the plant after having to blossom, yet again, one of the prickly bastards only to snip the flower off and use it as decoration. The waste added to Enda’s irritation, aware that she was sporting half a field in her own locks and her mother’s magic as a favor. It was her father that had pushed her to go, stating in no uncertain terms that she was to be presentable until such time that a stag claimed her as their own. If she did not she’d face being disowned immediately by her father- which would put a crimp in her current plans. She was to remain as unassuming as long as she could. Unassuming did not mean she would hang her head and act all shy and delicate. Enda may be all long limbs and slim lines but she was a bold doe and she would walk down that aisle with her nose in the air. She wasn’t in need of any stag, and she did not have to prove herself to any fawn.

But she could mess with them.

Enda redirected Hassel briefly to stash a few seeds and cuttings of a most annoying plant in her hair: snow-in-the-mountain.

An aggressively invasive weed- wherever it lands, the plant springs forth. If dug out of the ground, the entire plant must be taken out, for even the smallest rhizomes left in the soil will cause the plant to grow again. Enda decided that she would go with the variegated variety. It would be a pretty show, the ground of the gala-walk marred by a pathway of green and white plants that she magically forced to grow. It was petty of her perhaps. But, it would make for an entertaining show nonetheless.

Dei snorted, noticing what Enda was doing. For the first time that day, Enda smiled. She forced the last thistle to bloom with her magic and whistled Hassel over to retrieve it. Maybe today would not be so bad after all?

Word count: 1159
A post for The Grand Gala