1022 5.81 KB 71
-
>Be Cirrus Wisp.
-
>Spirit, shamare, legend...
-
>There's a lot of debate among your people about what or who you truly are.
-
>Funnily enough, all of them can be right, depending on the situation.
-
>You crack a smile to yourself, giggling under your breath as you recall the various spirited arguments about you that you overheard now and then.
-
>You actually were a shamare...
-
>Once.
-
>Once upon a time, you were nothing but a filly. Small, fragile, and with an eye for the spirit world.
-
>But you grew and grew, as did your power and skill, up to the point of legend.
-
>And then, you died.
-
>It wasn't even in some majestic battle with some horrifying spirit monster. You were just climbing a mountain for your meditation, and, in your old age, didn't quite put your hoof right and caught your leg on your absurdly long mane, slipping and losing your balance.
-
>Yup, you, the legend of legends, tripped on your mane and died.
-
>...
-
>Well, happens to everyone.
-
>...
-
>Good thing you carried that secret to your grave.
-
>No one found your body before nature reclaimed it.
-
>Most ponies ended up believing that you either went to your death as you knew it was coming, or just ascended to being a pure spirit that could still take physical form due to everything you learned in life, and that you now wandered the endless plains, helping ponies out with a tidbit of wisdom now and then, leading them out of dangerous situations.
-
>They weren't too far off, as you did have enough power to wander the world as long as you wanted, though becoming corporeal was most definitely not an option any more.
-
>However, eventually, you decided you had enough... That you stalled time enough. You closed your eyes, hugged the earth, finally let go, and let the winds carry you where they would...
-
>And they carried you right to some mare's womb, making you reborn.
-
>That was an... Interesting experience.
-
>You were just a filly again, of course, but you always had... Interesting dreams, to say the least.
-
>Needless to say, your demeanor attracted the attention of shamares, and before long, you became one again, with the odd temptation to grow your mane out... As the memories of your past life kept slowly filtering in through your dreams.
-
>The shamares told you that the legendary Cirrus Wisp was teaching you in your dreams, which was an unheard of honor.
-
>It took you a while to understand that she was you, and you were her.
-
>And then, you died.
-
>Not right then, of course. Just when your life ran its course.
-
>And so, you persisted, the eternal wanderer of the snowy plains and forests. Sometimes living, sometimes not. Spirit, guide, shamare...
-
>Watcher.
-
>You were always on the lookout, the many dangers of the north being an ever-present threat to your people's survival.
-
>As some regions were tamed and the tribe's territories expanded, the new lands always brought new wonders, as well as new dangers.
-
>There was always something new and interesting, if deadly, to see.
-
>Your ear flicks reflexively as you faintly hear a crunch in the snow.
-
>You look around, your eyes glowing from the spirit sight.
-
>At this point, it was harder to not use your spirit sight. You almost forgot you had mundane senses sometimes.
-
>Which was usually fine and well, but not lately. Not with the new creatures roaming the north.
-
>Recently, some strange, most peculiar beings started visiting your people.
-
>A tribe of some kind of great explorers, possibly the greatest in the world.
-
>Some snowponies would scoff and turn their noses up at such claims, claiming that their tribes were the greatest explorers, but the truth was quite clear to see. The outsiders were the ones to arrive to the north from some lands far beyond the tribe's territories, not the other way around.
-
>And these outsiders really were...
-
>Outsiders.
-
>Their spirits were quiet and dark, almost invisible.
-
>It's not like they were particularly stealthy, it was just their spirits.
-
>And to you, who was entirely used to using your spiritual senses rather than your physical ones...
-
>It was too late the moment they saw you.
-
>You only heard the crunch in the snow, looking in the general direction with your spirit sight.
-
>The next thing you knew, you felt a hand stroking your mane.
-
>[spoiler]You are already pet.[/spoiler]
-
>You freeze, blinking in confusion at the strange sensation.
-
>You weren't too sure of their intentions yet.
-
>The outsiders seemed friendly, and they didn't act like they wanted to conquer your people's lands...
-
>But they were also so hard to read.
-
>"Aww... You're so cute with your long mane. Are you lost, long-maned mare? I'm not exactly local, but I think I could point you to the nearest village..."
-
>You give your head a tiny shake as your legs grow weak, laying down on your belly.
-
>This was quite an unusual experience for you.
-
>You were always the one that got the drop on others, often having watched the situation from afar before deciding whether to intervene or not.
-
>Never in the countless years you've been around did anyone get the drop on you.
-
>"Aww, sweetie, are you afraid of me? It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you."
-
>Pffffffffffft.
-
>It's not like he even could.
-
>What's the worst he could do, kill you?
-
>Been there, done that.
-
>You're still not sure how to proceed, though.
-
>You should do... Something.
-
>Do some magic, cause a localized blizzard, vanish in front of his eyes, something to put the awe and perhaps just a touch of fear of the legend of Cirrus Wisp into these outsiders. It was pretty clear that they had no clue whatsoever just who you are.
-
>Yes. That's what you should do.
-
>...His hand running through your mane feels nice, though.
-
>Really nice.
-
>You find yourself blushing as he keeps stroking your mane, looking away from him as you can't quite keep a small smile off your face.
-
>...Maybe you'll just let this play out just this once, instead of doing the "Spooky mystic spirit" bit.
by Wingnut
by Wingnut
by Wingnut
by Wingnut
by Wingnut