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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


    And there was you (Femur/Any)
    #1
    Valensia
    She can't help but feel a connection with this mare, and it fills her cold empty shell with something inexplicable. It's there and it's all that matters to her world for the moment. An urge to return the coveted touches takes over and soon she is closer to the warmth and beating heart of creamy lady. Wiiings, she repeats the word slowly mulling it over in her mouth. Something clicks inside her; and she gently beats them a few times in response. These... wings she knows in her bones will bring something more into her life. Come with me, those words too have an effect on her soul. She is wanted, this creamy mare, fat with child wants her. She presses herself against the soft hide of the new comer. Nothing could be better than this moment, and she basks in it. The thrum of pulsing blood, and the gentle puffs of breath shows Valensia the strength of the bond she is experiencing with this, at one time, stranger.
     
    Yes, her throat doesn't crack anymore, as saliva coats it, and muscles adjust to the rhythm of her voice. She would love to join the lady, and curiousity as to where they would be heading urges her forward so that she can turn around and align herself just behind the mares shoulder. Looking up to the woman a weird grin frames her mouth, and her honey eyes sparkle. She still presses herself close to the woman as they begin to travel to, what would be, her new home. It’s not until they reach the river that she shifts and flares her nostrils in nervous tension. Bending her neck she sniffs at it before looking up questioningly to her new mother. Wings flare out to keep her balance as she takes a closer look at the reflective surface. It’s calm in this place at least, no tumbling white waters, or crashing sounds of water against rocks. She gets to take a look at herself for the first time. Nobby kneed and thick dark fuzz is almost all there is to the filly. What is this? referring to the river and the enormity of the channel they face. Is it safe? She can’t quite decide. Finally, when she does cross probably with assistance from mother she shakes out her coat before looking up at the skyline. A single spire rises above the trees and grasses and its impressive to say the last. Eyes widen with wonder and jaws slacken with awe.
     
    It’s hot here, and full of color; so much more than the blandness of the meadow she had been born into. A part of her wants to shrink back into mother’s side and hide from all the things that could easily eat up a filly such as herself. Yet another part of her is curious and made brave knowing that mother wouldn’t take her anywhere that isn’t perfectly safe.
     
    In the urges to explore she takes a few steps forward, ears perk forward and wings relax against her sides. She takes in all the scents, sounds, and sights within range of her. Her tail thumps excitedly against her hindquarters. mama! She isn’t sure of the words she is looking for and her neck swivels so that she can look at the mare, expressing her gratitude in her face before it comes from her maw. Thank you. What else is there to say when someone shares their home with you, and takes you in as welcoming as her mother had with her? She feels the luckiest filly alive at this moment and squeals out her happiness as it rolls through her body. Her giddy prancing takes her back to nuzzle against her mother’s neck once more a stupid grin on her face once more.

    “And there was you - your fair self,
    always delicately dressed,
    with white firm fingers sure of touch
    in delicate true work.
    I loved you then.”
    - Charlotte Gilman

    @[Femur]
    Whoever else wants to join
    #2
    I love the way you rake my skin, I feel the hate you place inside.
    It never occurred to her to want more than what she had -
    Longclaw, her beautiful blue mate who elicited such fire and drive from her in a way that no other could even breathe a spark of interest into. Now she has his son, for there was no denying the colt bore more than a striking resemblance to her beloved. Then too, there is this - the newfound filly, that is fast becoming a daughter when Femur never thought to have little ones tripping around under her own feet. But here they are, the girl and her, and that connection that is spawning between them.

    The stretched out repetition of the word coaxes a laugh from Femur’s lips. “Yes, wings.” she echoes as the girl - no, her daughter now - beats them against the air for a moment. Femur can feel an ounce of pride swell her breast as the girl experiments with them and seems to arrive at a rather momentous conclusion that concerns those extra appendages - they will give her what Femur’s own invisibility and fangs give her, she is certain of that. Freedom. The sense of entitlement of those that Beqanna’s strange nature has gifted and made something other than just horse.

    Femur looks down upon the child’s head as she presses herself closer to her.
    She is slim of hip still, barely thick in the teat with milk (she makes it come, the others draw it out of her in quick tugging sucks), and not at all plump as a mare with foal ought to be. Femur is next to virgin still or would be had it not been for a hot sweet night with her beloved in their lush tropical haunt beneath the volcano’s smoldering eye. This is the first time she thinks of Tephra - of what has become home to her though home is wherever her blue mate makes it for them because he carries her heart like a strangled rabbit in his wolf’s teeth.

    The resolve in the girl’s answer further confirms her initial thoughts at stumbling across this one, and though her smile is fanged (she cannot help it, the eyeteeth hang below her upper lip), there is no malice in it. “Good.” is all the answer she gives her as they sojourn forth, their sides never much apart for a few seconds here and there and Femur keeps her stride short and slow to accommodate the little one’s pace. She thinks nothing of the journey until the girl gives pause at the river and displays a bit of nervousness. Femur looks on as the wings flare and the filly sniffs at the water, probably seeing her reflection for the first time.

    “A river, and we will cross it.” if there is assurance there, it is brief. There is no time to trifle with and the girl will learn of water and it’s ways through the coming days. Especially when they go to the shore and must cross the sea but Femur always picks the times to cross when the tide is at it’s lowest and her charges have a chance at something other than drowning. The girl does cross eventually with some assistance and encouragement from Femur, gentle bumps of her nose and a slight nip here and there to steer her into the calmer currents. That same initial sense of pride returns to her as they pause upon the opposite shore as the filly gets her first good look at the volcano thrusting up from the imperfect and hot landscape of Tephra.

    Awe seems foremost to be on the girl’s face as Femur watches her, perhaps a little too keenly. Then comes the war of bravery and fear, and the play of it upon that little face is fascinating to look on. Is this how she once looked when she first beheld the wastes to which she had been spat from her mother’s loins upon? Perhaps, but she can hardly remember that for the quickness of one brother’s taunts that hardened her and the shambling sickness of the other against whose skin she cried her tears into. Odd, to think of those twins now and not know what either of them is up to.

    But she has other things to think of now, foals and a mate that occupy her heart and brain in no particular order other than that Femur has copious amounts of attention to give them. The word crowed into the air that is directed at her snags at her ears and pulls her out of her thoughts - “Mama!” A glowing shout to match the glowing upturned face that her black eyes fall upon with a measure of earned affection. The expression of gratitude earns the girl another fanged but tender smile that is also a token of Femur’s rare affection. She decides the girl must have a name, if one had not been given to her…

    “No need to thank me, my girl but your manners are impeccable and impressive already.” Natural, they come natural to the foal and Femur hones in on that - could the girl be a diplomat in the making? It is possible, as is the fact that she must introduce her to her brother and even though the girl gives her a stupid happy grin and nuzzles her neck, to which Femur drops her head and plays with the tiny whorl of hair on the girl’s brow, blowing out air through pursed lips for a moment before jerking her head back and giving a loud bellowing command for her son to come forth.

    “My darling, do you have a name for yourself? Something that I can call you besides girl?” she had to ask it, had to know what her sweet one was called. “I also want you to meet someone -” but the sentence is unfinished as the blue roan colt with the amethyst purple ombre points comes forth from the underbrush. One son and one daughter, now united, and Femur is the picture of pride! “This is your brother, Wildling.” and the colt knows what is expected of him, so he gives a nod to the girl and extends his small purple nose to her as he exhales a little loudly in wordless greeting.
    Femur


    @[Valensia] don't post to the gansey thread. i'll tag you when he follows femur home because femur will want to introduce them all then to longclaw lol. trying to keep the timelines flowing right! <3
    #3
    Valensia
    The freckled girl takes a moment to contemplate her mother’s words. A river, as the water flows gently by, Valensia puts a hoof out to test the liquid current. At first, it’s a little cold, and the tug around her hoof is a tad bit surprising. It doesn’t take her long to adjust to it, especially at her mother’s encouragement. Though crossing proves to be slightly more difficult as gangly legs tangle over themselves against the pressure thus she uses the creamy mare’s body as a buffer to keep herself from tumbling into the shallow current.

    For a moment Valensia believes that absolutely no one could ever feel as safe as she does standing next to her mother. But as her honeyed gaze takes in the land before her thoughts quickly turn to eager exploration; and a burning desire to make this her home. The few hours in the meadow had taught her couple of things, one of them being that a gift given is met with a phrase. Though she may not completely comprehend the finer details of life just yet the filly can grasp the gist of a concept. So she repeats what she had heard a few dozen times in the meadow.

    When complimented she puffs herself out a little, proud to be the receiver of her mother’s praise. Once again though her brain is coaxed to a new topic. Names, and she finds that she must puzzle over it for a moment. What was she supposed to call herself, was that the word the mare that left her had whispered in parting? Valensia or Val, she states it boldly and perhaps a little proud that she was able to remember this. Mother draws her attention away once more introducing another child. A child fairly similar to herself, though she is darker, and he has a strange color fading into his coat.

    His polite actions make her feel slightly nervous. Why, she doesn’t know, but she responds in kind reaching to bump her own nose against his a little shyly. She wants so desperately to be accepted into this family, and with the connection she feels with mother she only hopes that she can establish a similar closeness with the rest of them. Hi, part of her kicks herself in uncertainty, such a stupid way to start a conversation. She wonders if she can save her blunder, or if saying anything more would make it worse. So she worries her lip and shifts her weight slightly bravely taking a moment to look at his face and try to read it; before looking to mother once more. This, she really hopes, can become home.

    “And there was you - your fair self,
    always delicately dressed,
    with white firm fingers sure of touch
    in delicate true work.
    I loved you then.”
    - Charlotte Gilman

    @[Femur]
    #4
    This darling girl has not disappointed!
    Anything asked of her and she has complied, and in a manner that is befitting one of good nature and bearing. Femur is proud. She has picked well. Or Fate has seen fit to favor her one more time. No matter, she spoils her daughter with compliments and cuddles.

    The river had been met and conquered even if it had tested her daughter’s mettle. Only for a moment and the girl had been quick to seek her mother’s side for solidified strength and forged on. Not a disappointment at all! Nor had Femur expected her to be one. She had seen something in the filly the moment she’d laid eyes on her. Some inner strength of character that had momentarily shone outward in that sweet little face before innocence and youth swallowed it back up.

    Now on the shore, she can see how the girl burns with the light of desire in her eyes and face. It is a look that Femur is all too familiar with - Wildling had looked this same way the first time she lead him here. But the girl answers her and with a boldness that Femur finds charming. “My darling Valensia,” she murmurs, touching her lips to that little head just as her son finds them and more introductions abound. She is springing much upon Valensia so quickly but she has never been all that patient when there is much to be accomplished, like the introduction of siblings to one another.

    So far the interaction is par for the course - politeness on both the foals’ parts and a little shyness on her daughter’s behalf which is becoming of a girl. She looks on, gives Val a tiny encouraging nudge from behind as she gives them a moment more to acquaint themselves.

    Wildling tilts his head to the side as the girl - no, she is sister now - only manages a shy greeting. He cannot blame her. Mother gives them so little time to assimilate before thrusting them together. Why, she hadn’t even told him she was going off to apprehend more siblings for him and he certainly hadn’t expected her to come back with a girl! But he’ll give her the benefit of the doubt and assume she doesn’t have those dreaded cooties that he assumes all girls but mother have.

    He then realizes that he is staring. Perhaps a little too long and a little too boldly. But in this, he notes that both of their skins are similarly speckled - she is black to his blue except she doesn’t seem to fade into a more fantastic coloration like he does, amethyst purple like the end of his nose and the tuft of forelock between his ears. But whoa! What are those? Seems he’s just now caught sight of the birdlike appendages tucked against her sides. Well, one resembles a bird’s wing but the other? Bone! So cool!

    “I like your wings.” he says quietly with a smile.
    As if that alone cements her inclusion into their family. To him, it does. He can’t wait to show her what he can do! It’s something newly discovered and even their parents don’t know about it quite yet. He suspects mother does but… a glance at her shows her to just be smiling, even nodding her head in encouragement to the two of them and her black eyes seem to glow with nothing but  pride in them both which makes him puff out his little blue chest that much more.

    @[Valensia] i should tag Longclaw soon so she can meet her adoptive father. <3
    #5
    Valensia
    Val comes alive under the shower of affection; every cell in her jumping and preening ready to jump through any hoop to keep the attention flowing to her. When the words caress her fluffy ears a new rush warms her soul to melting point. This is all it takes for her to settle into home; my darling Valensia, with those three words she is forever anchored to the land of Tephra, and the strange adoring family that has rescued her from a cold and lonely existence.

    With her head lowered in a demur stance; she looks him over while she waits for signs of acceptance. He’s beautiful, lighter than herself, with a shock of color that she had not yet seen. Her breath comes in shallow puffs, the intensity of her hope coiling her muscles into rigid steel. They stand there for a moment, the world centering on him and his decision about her. For a moment he is larger than life and in control of all that is creating the woman she will become. When she hears his voice its so soft and kind she takes a deep breath teetering on the edge of bliss. Quickly the smile is returned with a large quirky one of her own, delirious in her happiness. Her head comes up proud to have something just as fascinating as his coloring. She flares them out of her sides, whispering shyly, Thank you.

    Under mothers adoring eyes they dance for her every look. Relaxing after a whirlwind of events she knows she will do anything for this family. You look pretty, she stumbles and struggles for a moment looking for the right word. Because she doesn’t know what color it is that makes him so very different from herself she chooses pretty; it’s a beautiful color, and she wants to return the compliment bestowed on herself. She walks up closer to him, nudging affectionately already feeling the need for contact with someone once again. Just as she felt with mother an anchoring occurs in her soul once more with the touch of her new brother.

    Honeyed eyes warm into liquid gold as she looks from him to mother and back to him looking for all signs of pleasure on their faces. She overflows with curiosity about this place, this boy, this mother, and wondering if there is anyone else that will expand her image of this family. She can’t imagine a better place to be or better souls to share it with. Brimming with question she isn’t sure how to ask or where to start so she chooses not to rush finding out everything this moment. Instead she stands there between these two beings enjoying the adoration and stolen moments of closeness. Its then that she thinks of the most eminent question on hand. Are there others? She isn’t sure if she asked that right, if those are the words she should be using. And her brows knot a little with the tension of focus. How to ask if the family is larger when you don’t know how to string those words together just yet?

    “And there was you - your fair self,
    always delicately dressed,
    with white firm fingers sure of touch
    in delicate true work.
    I loved you then.”
    - Charlotte Gilman

    @[Femur]
    @[Longclaw]
    #6
    The only daughter and Femur dotes on her.
    Not enough to make the sons - brothers - jealous but enough to give the girl the extra boost in confidence that she needs to keep herself a part of this odd family. Femur has never had a doubt that the girl would hold her own against the boys. The trio of foals had taken to one another almost instantly beneath Femur’s approving looks and fanged smiles. Could it always be as easy as that? She’d have to find out because now that she had set foot upon this path, she knew there was no way she could ever stop finding these precious little beasties and stealing them home for herself.

    She looks on as son and daughter acquaint themselves with one another. Pride and adoration a mix that seems to never leave her face. Femur could watch them like this forever but knows that one day - and that is a day that always comes too soon! - they will grow up and go away because that’s what children do and she’d expect no less of them. Part of her harbors an expectation that they’ll make the choice to remain and dedicate themselves Tephra but that is a mother’s hope and hope alone is not enough to make them stay. Part of her hopes that no matter where they go or what they do, they remember her and the things that she has taught them or let them discover for themselves.

    Wilding has discovered his unique ability to shatter things.
    Valensia has mastered her wings, even that odd skeletal one that endears her to Femur for the sake of it being pure intriguing bone.

    Now her children break from their shyness towards one another and begin to nip at each other’s noses and indulge in each other’s scents until they are a masterful blend of Femur, Tephra, and each other. How can she look away from that? It was a beautiful play between two unbridled spirits that met and saw their match in one another but recognized that sudden bond of kinship despite there being not a drop of blood shared between them. How beautiful! she thought, bending her head to the grass to lazily crop at it as they interacted around her.

    The filly smiles back at him and their fates are sealed!
    He steals a small look at their mother and there is nothing but approval and pride on her face as usual whenever she looks at any of them. It warms his heart to know that each of them does the painted mare justice in their dealings with one another. That they’ve taken to this motley family with no gripes or grief and somehow become a solid show of support for one another. He’d never thought love could mean so much - not in this sense but it burrows through his heart like a hungry worm.

    (Wildling may never care for another the way he does for his mother and father, sister and brother. Or the myriad others that may stem from their mother’s covert trips to ferret out more children like them for her to keep and build up. Those he might love to, like he does this Valensia - their Valensia.)

    She smiles and thanks him. Pride and shyness both vying for a place on her pretty little face. Mother had chosen well with this one, he thinks. Her next comment pulls a rough little laugh from his mouth because it was unexpected. “Thank you? I’m not sure colts can look pretty though…” His gratitude is sincere towards his sister (how quick he is to think of her as that!) but there is a bubble of mirth that rides his tongue and loops itself through the remainder of his words. Boys aren’t pretty. That’s something reserved only for girls. He’d prefer unique or handsome but since it’s his sister, he’ll let it slide.

    Bold too! He likes that, as she nudges him and he reciprocates with an affectionate nip to her neck just beneath the growing scruff of her mane. Part of him wants to tug on a hank of that hair in an equally affectionate manner but he paces himself, trying not to overwhelm her that fast with his loose and easy affections that come only for those in the family. Wildling doesn’t think that at this age he’d really tolerate any other girl but his sister - girls had germs! But she steps back from their impromptu actions that he considers to be an initiation of play and poses a question - are there others?

    “There’s father…” he trails off as he gives their mother a glance and she raises her head to chew her last mouthful of grass.

    “And Gansey, the last of you three for now. He’s your brother too and he has wings like you Val. You might be able to show him a thing or two.” she muses over the idea. Her children should share each other and help one another grow. Femur figures they would do it regardless but she seems to foster in them that much hope and love despite never thinking she could feel those things for her fierce blue mate or things as small as helpless orphan foals. But somehow she has and there’s no going back now, she realizes with a happy smile that shows off more of her fangs and herbivore teeth.

    @[Valensia] love her! excuse any assumptions or what not and let me know if i need to change anything! lol <333




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