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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    2 Miles An Hour {Any}|{Spear + Spark}
    #1
    The harvest left no food for you to eat...


    The little Native pony grazed in the meadow absent-mindedly, pondering over the things she'd experienced in her short time in Beqanna. Nothing life altering just yet, but enough to peak her interest. She wasn't ready to leave just yet, and it was a strange feeling to her. She was so used to the urge to move, to wander, but not yet. She was Beqanna's for a little while longer. A warm afternoon breeze lifted the feathers tangled in her thick locks, making them dance and float as if they had a mind of their own. She raised her head, inhaling deeply. The scents of a dozen other mingling equine filled her nose as all around her they conversed and interacted. The background noise was soothing, the constant buzz relaxing. She moved quietly to a nearby grassy knoll, turning to watch the others. She cocked a rear leg and observed, my voyeuristic mare keeping tabs on everything in silence. She was fascinated with the different cultures and different castes all living side by side and exchanging information. She wanted to know everything. Her eyelids grew heavy, and she proceeded to allow them to close, catnapping.


    ...You cannibal, you meat-eater, you'll see. I have seen the same, I know the shame in your defeat.
    someday, we will foresee obstacles



    OOC: Sorry it's so short Kristin, I'm trying to work on my opening posts a little more
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    #2
    The afternoon found them grooming one another, head to hip.
    He chewed on her back in circular patterns but found little in the way of dirt or dust to remove from her pale fur.
    She combed her teeth through his mane, working out a particularly tough knot that refused to come undone but she kept it and met with success when her small whiskery nose smoothed the wavy locks of hair down his neck.
     
    It is a rare moment for them to be like this, quiet and attentive to one another. Not too rare, but each has their reasons for keeping to themselves and little do they venture out together. Both of them can remember being inseparable inside the womb and out, until Spear felt the itch to go exploring. He begged her to go with him but she’d had adventures of her own here, built bonds that kept her rooted and unsure of leaving. Still, she’d given in to him and off they’d gone until coming to a fork in the trail -- neither could make the same decision, so each made a separate one and that was the beginning of the end for them.
     
    She came back long before he did, found love and lost it.
    He found something out on the plains, but he never did tell her about it.
     
    Then she’d gotten sick, and changed - discovered the fire inside her, and from then on, she’d been more independent of him than he cared for. But this afternoon finds them together, head to hip, heart to heart. Their beneficial grooming comes to an end and they set off in stride, side by side as they always used to be and for now, are again. The meadow is for them, a familiar haunt and this time, they are keen to claim one of her knolls for themselves but the one they’ve chosen happens to be occupied or so says the feathers that bob upwind of them on currents of air or imagination…
     
    “Could it be?” he asks her.
    “No, doesn’t smell like her.” she replies.
     
    Spear tilts his nose upwards and sucks in a draught of air; he determines it is not their mother after all, those are not the same feathers they found in her hair. Still, he is intrigued and so is Spark who touches her nose to his neck in an encouraging manner. He takes the hint and leads her up the knoll whereupon they discover a reddish mare intent on the goings-on in the meadow. That explains the bobbing feathers; her head moved so much to keep up with the flux of horses coming and going, her ears never still as she listened to all the sounds that she could, and she was small - unlike their mother who matched Spear in height, but who made Spark seem so small in comparison.
     
    “Hello,” they say in unison.

    Spear & Spark
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    #3
    So make your siren's call and sing all you want, I will not hear what you have to say...


    The sun warmed the copper mare's back as it beat down mercilessly this afternoon, but it didn't bother her. Once upon a time she had traveled a wide, barren desert with a band of ponies. They were wiry, ugly things, but smart. And resourceful. Jah had came upon them by accident, had made that wrong turn at Albuquerque when she was headed to Palm Springs. She was on the brink of exhaustion, dehydrated and weary. She had thought they were illusions, deceptions, mirages. They had been real, and brought her water. They allowed her to stay with them for a time, teaching her how to survive in the sandy, windswept deserts the inhabited. She thanked them and danced their tale many times at many solstices. It was one of her favorites. Who are we kidding? They're all her favorites.

    Her sunbathing and reminiscing is interrupted only by the approach of hooves. Her head and eyes follow her ears to double check the information. Nope, not one set, but two sets of feet heading towards her. Her brows raise in a pleasant surprise, a beautiful set of siblings they are! One small and dainty, like herself, the other tall enough she has to look up at him as he nears. Her gaze swings back and forth as she watches them. Their loud coloring and synchronized movements hinder her from focusing on one or the other. A brief look of knowing disappointment crosses the brother's face, who was he hoping for? Jah is fresh here, new, no ties, no powers. She is sorry she could not be who he was clearly hoping she was. They speak now to her, voices in unison, matched in perfect harmony. She pricks her ears forward jovially, stepping forward to meet them. 

    "Hello."

    She extends her neck, blowing hard, eager to make an exchange with them. She reaches first for the little mare, close enough to bump muzzles with her. Then comes the brother, more of a stretch for her. She is excited, knotted tail raised slightly.


    ...I need freedom now, and I need to know how to live my life as it's meant to be.
    someday, we will foresee obstacles



    @[Kristin]
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