Torrent | slithcreun

Gender: Male
Parents/Affinity: Silent Song
Special Stats: None
Circle: None

Torrent

For all that his name denotes violence, Torrent is a gentle soul, if a bit oblivious at times. His eyes belie the insinuated harshness of his name. It is his eyes that are the most striking, the most noticeable feature beyond even his upright mane, for the soft, silvery blue is stunning and kind.

His home is in a canyon, amidst a forest, at the edge of the sea. It is, as he is, indecisive as to what it may truly be known as, for at the bottom of his canyon is a deep and rapid river and yet along the sides is a densely thriving woodland that tries each year to creep ever-closer to the water; and each year the rapid floods keep the woodland at bay, a dance of balance. There is ever moisture hanging heavy in the air, and a storm is never farther than the horizon and often spattering much closer than that, for the sea air is captured by the cliffs of his canyon and stirred by the leaves of his trees.

The river holds no stones, no shallows, no safe crossings, and yet this stallion known as Water needs no such accommodations. He flows with the tossing of the deep currents, pleased to be ripped along to a new shoreline, wherever it may come, to taste a new grass for a time.

He is much the same in life, a fellow who will simply follow the flow of things; and yet he is truly capable of sweeping others away with his influences. His own form of protection is to herd another along, to swipe clean that which had happened; to bring them to a new shore, remove them from discomfort, before they knew that they were being carried away.

Our Water is not a stallion to remain still, to rest, for very long, eager for each day to scoop him off to grand discoveries. He certainly can relax while such is the flow of events, yet this only happens as a branch that floats the river - if it is rushed towards a stone that would give it rest for a time, then it does so. If not, it continues.

He is not a wanderer, however, does not seek out distant shores and beautiful treasures. He goes where events take him, rather than seeking to break free; normally, he is taken only so far as a little ways downstream, only to be pulled back upstream to seek shelter from the floods that brings renewal in the spring. His life is a cycle, each season finding him a bit further down the shore until the time returns to seek his sanctuary.

Sanctuary, for him, is not so closed as it would be for others; it is expected, by now. There are small pockets of caverns in the deepest banks, formed of woven tree root and carved of rushing water along the soft earth; his sanctuary is to retreat to these caverns, recesses that have gone deep enough to provide just a little swirling pool as the great rushing water overflows its containment. There are backways, places where the inrush of water feed back to the great river that carved the canyon, and so long as the flood never reaches the trunks he is kept safe. Should the rains come with rage, with power and cleansing in the renewal, even these caverns are flooded to their fill as the water crashes amidst bark and branch, drowning the grass and ripping the brush.

In these times, Torrent dances. He swims with the raging river, swirls in the driving rain, and feels nothing but ease at having a new direction for the flow of the storms. When they gentle again, he retreats to his riverside caverns of circling water and woven roots, allowing the influx to rush by as he flows with the gentle sway of the pools. They only come with the floods; once the storms are done, the water recedes and his sanctuary is dry, leaving him to flow outwards with the pull of water.

Rushing ever onward, scooping along those who need it, Torrent is as easy-going and relentless as water itself; and so he has flowed effortlessly into our lives, has found his place within those that need not push so hard, for like water he will follow the least resistance.