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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


    It comes and goes [open to any]
    #1
    Ardashir
    The coastal kingdom in spring was a wash of purple, white and yellow. The coastal flowers took great advantage of the sun and its benefits. The more inland flowers as well. The waters over the ocean in spring took on a more welcoming hue. A glassy almost clear paled turquoise. The world seemed all together a kinder place with spring breathing life into Nerine. Spring meant change but change had taken place all through the year it seemed. Queens changed, alliances, and members all came and went. This domain mimicked the ocean. All this change had caused one to lose interest in just generally being around.


    Ardashir was an adult now at 5 years of age and given another year he would be his full height. He was already large. The white stallion had tucked himself away in his hiding place with its white gray rocks, and its pine tree coast line. He had ignored the call to kingdom meetings. He stayed hidden. Ardashir was just done with all the changes and with trying. They called for mocks and training each other to fight and he had tried to set up training with others. He had been stood up. He went back to the coast line and trained himself. He grew his muscles rather than letting himself just go to mush like a bear in the winter.


    He had used the water that his home was so famous for. He swam in the deeper areas and it kept up his form. Ardashir pushed the driftwood logs and branches with his neck and head. He had kicked them with his legs. He did anything he could to keep in shape and up on skills. But, he did not come when they called. He was over it all. He could just leave.. The thought had passed his mind more than once. He had left before and ventured almost everywhere. Nerine was home though and he always came back. Though, he hid himself from the rest of them he always came back.

    Ardashir was out today. He was grazing in his hidden meadow. If anyone wanted to find him it was not hard. The large white horse stood out like a boulder on the vast pasture of green. His head down and pink lips manipulating the grass shoots as he grazed. His mane and tail were long and tangled in places. If, he wanted he could rub against a tree and tear out the knots. A loud snort passed his nostrils and he lifted his head to chew.  
    The blue in an ocean of gray..
    You’ve mistaken the stars reflected on the surface of the lake at night for the heavens.
    #2
    haze like a fever
    i fell like a dreamer for sweet tea and lemonade; it clings to my t-shirt it’s loud and it lingers, designed to suffocate. i light up to find what i’ve known all this time, there’s some beauty here yet
    Wishbone has often wondered what it would be like to disappear — to simply fade into the background of life and allow the waves of time to wash over her shoulders and erode memories of her. The power behind her family (her father as the king of Tephra, her older sister as the queen of Hyaline) and the power behind her own name (heiress to Nerine) forces her to consider disappearing only in theory and never in reality.

    But the thoughts still come to her, especially when she sees how busy Scorch has become under the weight of the crown. Wishbone is strong — perhaps stronger than Hestia, perhaps stronger than Nayl, perhaps stronger than Isobell — but she still has doubts about the heaviness of the crown upon her wild head. It would be much easier to simply fade out of the picture and travel in the places Beyond… But would it be as thrilling?

    Her musings twist and dance in her mind like delicately-dangerous swords. She wouldn’t leave Beqanna — not because she is a coward but because there is too much that she loves here for her to just walk away from it. The scent of a stranger drags Wishbone’s mind back to reality, where she’d been wading through high grasses. Rugged, coastal flora sprouts around her in delicious colors that remind her of Hyaline. But her eyes move past the color to spot an ivory stallion grazing in the midst of a clearing.

    The mahogany mare finds herself moving under the shade of a tall oak tree. The lowest branches brush against the curve of her back and the seagull feather tangled in her mane nearly snags on the tree’s fingers. Thankfully, Wishbone ducks her head in enough time to save her memorabilia (really, it’s just a souvenir from her run along the beach that morning), amber eyes never leaving the muscular shape of the stallion in the near distance.

    “I haven’t met you yet.” Her honey-whiskey voice pushes through the quiet of the afternoon, feminine and sweet yet laced with the smoke and shadow of her birth-home. Wishbone pulls away from the shade of the oak and the sun catches on the auburn highlight of her dark, tangled mane. Her lithe body moves closer to his, long legs drawing her close enough to speak comfortably. “I’m Wishbone.”
    credit to eliza of adoxography.

    @[Ardashir]
    #3
    Ardashir
    Walking in the background in life was seemingly Ardashir’s life. He did not mind it at all either now. The stallion liked to just sink into the woodwork and not have to worry about trying to upstage or be upstaged. The world moved slow when you were alone and not under the pressure of pleasing those around you. Ard would not consider himself lazy. He was just sick of trying and nothing coming from it. Sick of all the meetings, and just the general interactions with all of the kingdom. The current events of the kingdom had reached his ears though and he had let it roll off him once more.


    The wind was not on the stallion’s side today. The scent of the other horse did not travel to his nose. His scent though was free to travel in her direction. He was still licking his lips when the voice came to his ears.  Interloper.. His mind snapped the word, and he did not put it to his lips. The ivory stag knew better. She might have been a surprise to him but, Ardashir could tell that this was a true resident of Nerine. New though she might be to his eyes. Those blue eyes of his were hidden under a curtain of long ashen colored forelock hair.

    The stallion tossed his head and moved what he could out of his line of sight. A bay filly came from the tree line. He had to think a moment on that accent and once more his mind cried out  Interloper!. This filly was not born of Nerine. He scolded himself, reminding that inner-self that he was not born of this land either. He was a bastard, and orphan..twice. Ardashir had been brought here, and then left here. She moved closer and paused a comfortable distance from him. They could talk in peace without the worry about personal bubbles. He bowed his head. “ I am Ardashir. Good to meet you Wishbone.” His voice had a bit of gravel on that layer of silver he usually spoke with. “ And, I have not met you either.” There was not a muscle in his body that gave off any cruelty in the draft stag. He shook his frame a moment and looked back to Wishbone.  
    The blue in an ocean of gray..


    @[Wishbone]
    You’ve mistaken the stars reflected on the surface of the lake at night for the heavens.
    #4
    haze like a fever
    i fell like a dreamer for sweet tea and lemonade; it clings to my t-shirt it’s loud and it lingers, designed to suffocate. i light up to find what i’ve known all this time, there’s some beauty here yet
    Although her childhood was not spent in Nerine, Wishbone finds deep admiration for the northern kingdom in the soft corners of her heart. She’s spent an equal amount of time in both Nerine and Tephra at this point in her life — a year in each kingdom — and she would protect either of them with her very life-force. Tephra contains all the nostalgia of her youth (including her parents, nestled warmly against the volcano’s trembling sides) while Nerine contains all the delirious possibilities of the future (including the new friendships she’s made, racing along the granite shores).

    This coastal kingdom is not her native land, but it has quickly become her home. Kingdoms have an interesting way of doing that — pulling individuals away from whispering calls into something powerful and loud and fierce. It lends them their uniqueness, their diversity, and their strength. Kingdoms can draw together souls from all walks of life and tie them into something both beautiful and well-oiled.

    She can sense his mistrust, however faint it might be, but the mahogany girl knows she can only prove her loyalty through her actions. Warrick had taught her that a leader can speak until their throat runs dry but if their words do not breathe true life, they are simply wasting air. So Wishbone pushes past the faint shimmer in his gaze and instead locks his name away to memory, certain she’s never seen this white stallion before but hellbent on making sure she will see him again.

    “Have you been in Nerine long, Ardashir?” Her amber eyes search his face for a moment, nearly calculating yet entirely warm, before turning to search the skies above. The heavens have been scrubbed clean by the winds, allowing for a spring-blue sky unhampered by the patterns of clouds. The clear skies allow for the sun to shine brightly, warming Wishbone’s mahogany back as she stands in the light. “There will be a storm tonight.” While there are no rain-clouds in sight, an undercurrent of electricity thrums faintly in the air. It’s the type of energy that intoxicates Wishbone, sending vibrations of invigorating excitement through her body.

    When her eyes turn away from the skies and back to Ardashir’s face, there’s a dangerously animated expression in them. “I can practically taste it in the air… It always makes me want to do something totally insane.”
    credit to eliza of adoxography.

    @[Ardashir]
    #5
    Ardashir
    Ard’s early life was spent in Nerine. There was a short stint in the adoption den, but a day in the den could not be counted as a long stay. The sea kingdom had been a welcoming place. He had learned all the names of those that lived there at one time. He had played with his mother and a few other foals. The stallions adoptive mother had disappeared though the winged mare drifting to some other land perhaps. So, Ard had learned to take care of himself and tried to make himself useful to the kingdom. He had ventured to the forest a couple times, maybe the meadow once. He could not be sure. The white stag had been to Hyaline once on a diplomatic trip. All that had been requested of him was to start the conversation and then stand. He had done so but, then again he might have failed.

    The sea had taken what it wanted from the stallion as well. He had paid a price for not respecting those deeper places. The scars on his legs and under belly were faint but those lines of pink still stood out against his ivory coat. They were not earned in battle or fights for his kingdom. He had been dragged into the sea. The stallion relaxed his frame enough to look friendly. He was not any sort of threat to anyone, but he was not a push over either. He put out his mistrust in the little bay filly. Ard let that energy of calm and friendliness wash over him and maybe spread to the filly.

    She was not there to anger him nor, to poke fun at him. She had simply wandered into this place as he had done a few years ago. He listened to her as she asked her question. “ I have been here since I was brought here by my adoptive mother.” He answered in that new calm demeanor. “ How about you?” He asked her and then flicked his ears a couple times as she started talking about a storm. He turned his head and lifted his nose to the wind and looked to the sky with his blue eyes. He took a deep breath in flaring his nostrils. The white stag lowered his nose and looked to the filly,  “ Could be. Do you like to watch the weather Wishbone?”

    He took his own notes and stored them away for use later. He noted the look on the fillies face and leaned his head to the side slightly, “ Better than I at knowing what is coming but, with the lack of any large clouds and how warm it is. I have to take your word for it.” A chuckle passed his lips and he shifted on his feet a moment, “ What would you do?” He looked to the bay filly, “ Nothing dangerous I hope.”  
    The blue in an ocean of gray..


    @[Wishbone]
    You’ve mistaken the stars reflected on the surface of the lake at night for the heavens.
    #6
    haze like a fever
    i fell like a dreamer for sweet tea and lemonade; it clings to my t-shirt it’s loud and it lingers, designed to suffocate. i light up to find what i’ve known all this time, there’s some beauty here yet
    She is not without her own physical faults. Wishbone has noticed the faint, pink scars that pucker along the stallion’s white skin. Her mind had immediately grabbed at the many questions she could ask him, but her manners have gotten the better of her and she’d refrained. Her own knees are littered with various scarring, both dainty and thick — the volcano’s face has both sliced her and gashed her. There are miniscule, cobwebby burn-scars on her heels as well, from her attempts at clearing the lava-streams in Tephra and only partly succeeding.

    He mentions his adoptive mother and more questions spring into Wishbone’s racing mind. “Who’s your mother? Is she here?” Wound had taught her the delicacies of orphans and adoption one day as a child, when they’d been walking between the common lands and Tephra. Still, the idea had always intrigued her; having a mother who never birthed you could be either entirely interesting or wildly boring. “I’ve been here about a year now, an exchange between Tephra and Nerine.” Yet the exchange has turned into much, much more.

    She laughs at his question about watching the weather. It’s a husky yet feminine sound, as dangerous as the storm that might soon drown their shores. “Most of the time, the weather is too fucking boring for me.” Cloud-watching is a past-time reserved for shy, simple children. “If I could fly through the weather, that would be more interesting.” If the fairies had gifted her wings, Wishbone is certain she’d be trying to fly among the lightning and thunder like the careless daredevil she is.

    Again, he makes her laugh (“Nothing dangerous, I hope”). Apparently first-impressions of her are not true to her character. “Definitely something dangerous,” she remarks back. Dancing in a hurricane and running through a snowstorm are just some of her hobbies, not including racing alongside the granite cliffs with her feet teasing the drop-off where the sea roars angrily below. “Do you have any ideas?” Perhaps this stallion would prefer to turn his head back to the grass and enjoy his pleasant, blue-skied day. Or perhaps he will indulge her with an adventure.
    credit to eliza of adoxography.

    @[Ardashir]
    #7
    Ardashir
    He shook his head as Wishbone asked about his mother, “ She is not with in the bounds of Nerine. I think she is still alive but, just not here.” He looked up at the sky a moment with its shifting clouds, “ When you have wings though, I can imagine that staying in one place for too long gets boring.” Ard looked back the the bay filly, “ An exchange?” The pale stag had to admit his own interest in what she had said. He had not shared his mother’s name. The time to share that seemed to pass though as the conversation continued.


    The Bay filly mentioned the weather being boring, and then what she would do if she could fly. “ I am sure it would be an all new adventure for you. Get the adrenaline pumping I would guess.” He had a suspicion about what he might be gifted with but, the word’ immortality.. ‘ seemed far fetched to him. Ardashir should have by all rights drowned that day he was drug under the waves by that monster. He was not sure if it was luck or something else though that he had lived.

    He was away in his own mind for a moment again when Wishbone laughed. The ivory stag looked to the filly with his blue eyes. “ Well, I guess we shall just have to find something.” He looked around a moment, “ Though I am not the best at leading quests. You.” He paused as he looked at her, “ on the other hand seem to be an old hat at this adventure thing. I can offer you what I have which is my body to guard you, and maybe a bit of companionship on this quest of yours.”
    The blue in an ocean of gray..


    @[Wishbone]
    You’ve mistaken the stars reflected on the surface of the lake at night for the heavens.
    #8

    she’s got jumper cable lips
    she’s got sunset on her breath. now i inhaled just a little bit, now i’ve got no fear of death

    He’s a mystery to her, full of open-ended questions and doors that lead to dead ends. She finds herself drawn into his presence, especially those pale eyes set against the ivory framework of his face. There’s stories hiding just behind his eyes, cradled against the fabric of his mind. Wishbone might be able to drag them from their comfortable depths at some point, but for now Ardashi remains both friendly and detached. It’s an interesting feat and he keeps her edging closer.

    “Tephra and Nerine have an alliance. I was from Tephra and came to Nerine. Meanwhile, a child from Nerine went to Tephra.” Wishbone has been well-versed in the topics of diplomacy and the history of Beqanna, simply because her mother wanted her to gain the education she never had and her father is a king. While the girl doesn’t boast about her knowledge, she can’t help the ringlet of pride that works itself through her stomach at explaining a situation to someone older than herself.

    He offers his allegiance in an adventure then, though his ideas amount to nothing. Wishbone pauses in thought, her mind rolling through different ideas of what to do. “We should go swimming!” It’s a simple thing, but the day is easy and tomorrow will be thundering. “I know the perfect spot on the shore where the waves are tall enough to be scary.” That’s her favorite thing — when the waves reach higher than they should and you leave the beach feeling worn but thrilled. “It’s just over here.” With that, she’s racing away, sure that the ivory stallion will follow but unhurt if he does not.

    wishbone



    @[Ardashir] / here's just a little something to finish this thread up. feel free to reply or not <3




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