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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


    She was the kind of person that keeps a parrot. [Lethy, any]
    #1

    The way is long, but Popinjay’s people are nomads, and so she had no trouble keeping up with the golden Lethy as they ford rivers, wind through forests, and navigate the rocky, varied terrain of Loess. She is designed for travel and sturdily built in spite of her small size. The river was a wonder, wide and wild in places with frothing whitewater, foaming and rabid, and other places still as glass but deep. Here currents ran swift beneath a motionless surface, ready to sweep away the unwary, to catch them up in the crevices between hidden logs and boulders, to drown them beneath that peaceful deception.

    Popinjay was wary at the water’s edge, employing a strategic advance and retreat method. In her short time, her family had never brought her to such a large body of water, they had regularly visited small, well-used, ponds along their ancient paths, and so she was instinctively wary of it and the treeline at its far shore. As they traced its eastern bank, she was quiet and watchful, glittering eyes gliding over the silent trees that hid the rest of the forest from them, but as they came to the shallows where they could safely cross, her demeanor became much more relaxed and she played in the riffles and small pools where shoals of tiny minnows hid away from the shadowy catfish and bass lurking in the deeper pools.

    A high, childish laugh pealed from her throat as she bounced into the shallows, throwing water high, gleaming and flashing in the sunlight, her coat slick and black with wet. The minnows scrambled away, melting from her path in well-practiced panic.

    After the river, the forest. For a time, the filly was quiet again, but this lasted only a short while. At first, the thud of their hoofbeats was so close in her ears, and she kept a tight formation with the mare, peering into the shadows of every copse and blinking in the sudden light that broke through the canopy above. Quickly, though, she found herself at ease, in spite of the snow-slick leaves and loam underfoot. She scampered ahead, diving between trees so that Lethy blinked in and out of sight, and she, nearly invisible but for the wide star upon her brow which flashed brilliant in the dappled light. A flicker laughed above and she answered it with a high pitched whinny, rearing up, front hooves thumping dully against the trunk of its tree. In response, the bird simply cocked its head to focus one black eye down on her, and then flew away with a flash of yellow and white.

    Soon, however, the forest opened, the trees grew smaller and further apart until, topping a rocky hill, the kingdom of Loess spanned ahead of them. As she did in the den, presented with this open space, Popinjay took off, legs pumping furiously, breath coming in spurts and puffs. She ran straight, leaping nimbly over low spots until the ground came up suddenly and hard. Betrayal! With a crash, she crumpled and rolled, scuffing knees and nose, and slid to a stop in a small grouping of ferns. She squealed angrily and leapt to her feet, wincing when a pointed rock found a tender spot on the underside of her forehoof, then struck the ground and trotted back to Lethy, ears pinned and eyes flashing.

    It took longer to cross Loess than any other part of their journey and she remained sour for most of it, nostrils pinched so her breath came in a hiss She was not going to forgive it that quickly for the stone bruise. Instead she was temperamental, her mood mercurial and quick to turn from laughter to thunderclouds. She tore at the vegetation around her as they passed and whipped it through the air, making the tall grasses whistle, and leaving pockmarks of pollen against her dark shoulders. But at last, the rocky hills gave way to another forest with trees that were impossibly tall. The border of Taiga. The filly could not hold her anger any longer in this different terrain. Instead she remembered Lethy’s promise of Large Barry Bushes, and so her thoughts turn, at last, from childish anger to excitement.

    Popinjay
    .........


    @[Izora Lethia]

    Hope you don't mind I started the thread here, I felt like writing lol
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    #2
    The journey did not take much longer with the tiny Popinjay in tote. Lethy had always taken her travels slow since the plague had taken it's toll on her body. She wasn't sick anymore but it had left her tired. She had always thought that she had taken things to quickly when she was pregnant with her daughter and that is why she had lost her, so as her belly grew this time - and she was surely ready to deliver soon - she took things even more slowly. She did not want to lose this child.

    She watched with amusement as they came up to the river. She watched carefully her mother instincts rising to the top ready to step in if Popinjay chose to take on the river with all of her spontaneity. She was pleased to watch her work out how to cross the river, guiding but never over leading at they made their way up stream to the shallows.  She laughed as she watched Popinjay play, even joining in for a moment splashing her with water. It was cold as winter had made it's way to Beqanna, but the coldness was a relief against her aching muscles and sweat dappled hide.

    As the entered Loess and Popinjay took of Lethy inhaled the fresh air. Her mind wandered to Aten wondering if he would accept Popinjay and how he would react to her adopting so close to having her own, neither one being his. She took in the landscape as Popinjay explored. She remembered her first time in this land with Lepis, who now lead Taiga with her mate Wolfbane. A mixture of emotions swam through her as they passed the large salt lake she was visiting when the plague had hit her. She tried to tell Popinjay of her adventures but she was still salty from the tumble she took earlier. Lethy ruffled her forelock with her lips and told her it happens to the best of them.

    They finally broke the border of Taiga. Large redwoods opened up before them. The snow covered the ground but thinly. Come on, I will show you the berry Bush. A sweet treat for a sweet girl. they moved along the border winding through the large trees. She knew the path as if it had always been her home. It didn't take long before they were on the border of Tephra and Taiga. The snow was almost non existent. Tephra's jungle heat kept this part of Taiga alive during the winter's months. Soon they were upon the berry bush. They grew in clusters in this specific area, most likely because of the large break in trees above them where the sun could touch them for the majority of the day
    Though they were scattered through the forest in warmer months, Lethy liked coming here. She took a couple of the deep blue berry's in her mouth savoring the sweet, tart flavor as they went down. The gold of her mouth stained purple as she turned to Popinjay. This is my secret spot. Don't tell anyone. she winked as she watched her try the sweet treat.
    forget me not; but never remember
    Lethy

    @[Aten]
    @[Popinjay] No problem! (: Aten will be joining this post some point but go ahead and reply when you can.
    IMG-20190524-092123-677
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    #3
    Beqanna's cold winter had settled over the land many suns ago, promising a number of long, frigid days and nights while the beautiful kingdom of Taiga awaited it's chance to reawaken with a promise of new life. Though the days that passed now were still overcome by a frigid winter chill, and some areas of the redforest were still home to pickpockets of white snow, there was a change in the air, a signal that the land's suffering would soon be over for another year.

    Aten himself never really minded either the cold or the heat; he'd learned to adapt to each one many suns ago as a colt. He'd learned quick ways to rid his body of the extra winter coat hair that had not yet shed so he could feel cooler in the spring's heat, and of how to burrow down into thickets in the night should he feel extra chilled despite the natural protection he gained as the days grew shorter. He was a well-practiced stallion with many a tricks up his sleeve, and his family would no doubt be proud to see the young, handsome horse he had grown into.

    On this easy winter day, the stallion was grazing up near the northern Taiga meadows, for a multitude of reasons. One was quite obvious for those who knew his story over these past six moons; he simply didn't want to be around Beqanna's main meadows in case Wolfbane or Lepis wished to speak with him. Though his hatred toward the two had started to dim, he still did not appreciate their presence no matter the situation. Until he felt absolutely confident that he would not say the wrong thing around them, he'd resolved to steering clear unless they absolutely needed him.

    The other was he had not been up in this direction for quite some time. Since Aten was known for growing a rather thick winter coat, Tephra's warmer climate during the cold season made it a bit uncomfortable for him to be so close when he hadn't started shedding. Now that the days were getting longer once again, Aten could start to feel the subtle changes. When he rolled on grassy spots in the meadows or on some of Taiga's knolls to reach a particular knot in his back, he'd often find large traces of hair left over. He still had a coarse coat to contend with these remaining suns, but his ability to stay near Tephra's border had enhanced greatly.

    The grass up here was not the most appetizing in the cold months, hardly any was, but it was food the golden stallion would not pass up. It definitely had merits over shoving snow aside with his muzzle to find prickets of grass in small pockets in Taiga's meadows. He both avoided hunger and a chilled muzzle, by coming here. Aten was not going to complain about any of his circumstances; he knew he was more fortunate than some others who had a further dwindling food supply, even with the impending approach of spring.

    Aten's thoughts drifted among many topics in his solitude, but one of them was the golden mare Lethia, who he'd come to form a very strong friendship with over the months that passed since he brought her to Taiga. If he were bold enough, he'd even consider saying there was a blossiming romance of sorts, but he still had yet to fully know where she stood on the subject. She probably had an answer, but Aten was new to this sort of topic. Having been without a mare by his side in such a fashion, and without offspring, the golden stallion was unsure of how to proceed in these circumstances.

    Especially given what he'd learned over the past few moons.

    It had been subtle at first, but, slowly, the increasing size of Lethia's belly gave Aten an indication of where things might stand. He was not going to berate her for her choice; she was a grown mare, fully capable of her own decisions. Aten would only berate himself, for not being bold enough to stand up and say something in the first place. Perhaps then he would have stood a better chance.

    For the time being as well, he'd still said nothing; Lethia had a lot to contend with, for sure, keeping herself well fed during the winter and the arrival of a foal to plan for. Matters like this, Aten was sure, were at least somewhat simple; the mare needed plenty of food to provide rich, thick milk for her foal. Everything that came after that... Aten was absolutely clueless, to say the least.

    But he did know one thing. Should the stallion who sired Lethia's foal be foolish enough to miss on such an opportunity, Aten would be there for his friend, to help her in any way he could, and, should she allow it, help guide the new foal to learn Taiga's ways, secrets that he had yet to share with even such a close friend.

    Speaking of friends, though Aten's thoughts were on Lethia, he was not alone that day. Turul had decided to make a perch of his friend's withers and rest atop the stallion's back, his talons gripping just enough to keep him steady as Aten slowly picked his way through the grass to eat. Every so often, the falcon would wake from his nap and lazily preen his feathers or stretch his wings and legs, but would soon return to a light doze or full on nap again if he felt tired enough. Aten was happy to let his friend rest; he'd been quite busy these recent suns, providing news on Wolfbane and Lepis as well as keep an eye out for Lethia since she had been gone for some time recently.

    Aten was not out to monitor his friend's every move, but he would like to know when she returned so he could welcome her.

    When a shift in the winds brought the familiar scent, the stallion's eyes grew soft with happiness. Careful not to wake his friend, Aten made his way up a small knoll that led to the glen where Lethia had discovered a favorite spot of hers. Aten himself was not a huge fan of the lush berries that grew here, much preferring grass, ivy, and moss plants, but on the off occasion he decided to feast on them, they were... edible, if anything. The golden stallion easily spotted his friend a short distance away.

    Making his way over, Aten almost didn't notice the little foal accompanying her. The handsome stallion's coat was dappled with a light layer of snow that had fallen shortly before Lethia's arrival to the glen, a quick flury that was done before Turul could find real shelter under the tree branches. His thick muscles were somewhat masked by his winter coat, but still visible to the eye, and his proud face, though slightly shaggy with a beard, was accentuated by his dark forelock and eyes.

    The stallion spoke in a gentle voice as he approached his friend and the little one at her side, "I am glad to see that you have returned to Taiga safely. And with a new friend, it seems so," Aten stated in a friendly tone, eyes searching for Lethia's own pretty purple against her light colored tapered face.

    @[Popinjay] @[Izora Lethia]
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    #4

    The blueberry bushes are met with a suspicious glare, taller than her, and dense, they grow thick and tangled and don't look at all like how she pictured Barry. Around mare and filly is the thick, vegetal smell of summer, though it is still winter and snow clings to the higher places, stubbourn, but yielding to the inexorable warmth. This, the filly decides is not likely to be Barry at all. She snorts and pins her ears at the large bushes, only approaching after Lethy has deftly plucked several berries from their branch, and then it is with nostrils flaring, and reaching, stretching, while standing impossibly far away. Indelicately, Popinjay grabs a branch, getting a pang of sweetness mixed with the bitterness of leaves and the rough pulp of woody branches and bark.

    GACK

    She spits this to the ground and tries again, but she does not have the finesse to pull off only the berries. It is lucky, then, that her coat is so dark that it masks the purple staining of the dusty, blue-skinned fruit. The leaves stuck in the curls of her forelock, however, are bright and obvious. Thus decorated, she turns her head quickly when the sound of heavy hooves approaches them. Is this going to be Barry? Her ear flick forward and she rolls her neck once, crow-hopping in short-lived excitement, as, very quickly, she changes her mind about wanting to meet him at all. The buckskin mare had certainly not lied, Barry Bushes was large. Impossibly large. He towers above the small filly, and even over the golden mare who was, herself, reasonably tall.

    Stopped mid-stride, Popinjay only gazes at the stallion for a short time, standing with one foreleg dangling in the air like a frightened dog, and then with a surprising suddenness, she disappears, scrambling behind Lethy. Hidden in the mare's shadow, she peers beneath her belly, watching the stallion's hooves as they come nearer and then halt. She pays no attention to his words - they are not meant for her directly, anyhow, and so she forgets them immediately. As the two friends come together, she is careful to keep Lethy between herself and Barry, though, slowly, the filly comes to take him in fully, ears back, then forward, then split, cautious.

    But then, everything changes.

    Everything changes because, in one moment, the stallion turns broadside and, past the heavy neck and shoulder, holding fast to the thick hair and hide of his withers, is a bird!

    And oh! Oh, Popinjay wants a bird, too!

    Caution thrown to the wind, she moves, silent, but intent. The adults likely do not even notice her, caught in their own re-introductions, and quickly - so quickly! - she is next to Barry (did Lethy say Aten? What is an Aten?) With insistence, she presses her small, firm muzzle twice in the hollow behind the stallion's elbow, pulls away briefly, and then reaches up, chin and jaw pressing firm into the his shoulder. But it is no use. He is too tall and her curious nose does not reach even the longest talon of the falcon's lowest claw, though she tries valiantly to stretch her upper lip high enough.

    Nonetheless, she makes no attempt to pull away, and only leans into Barry's shoulder more.
    Popinjay
    .........


    @[Izora Lethia] @[Aten]
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    #5
    Purple eyes quickly find Aten's brown. They seemed deeper against the snow that dappled his shaggy, golden face. His eyes had always been gentle and kind. Lethy smiles as he greets them and she offers him her muzzle. I had quite the journey today. Slow and peaceful, at least on the way there. she laughed. She couldn't help but be filled with the warmth of motherhood as Popinjay took cover beside her peering at the newcomer, her friend, beneath her belly. I'm glad to see you doing well today, really I am. she breathes at him. She knows he has been struggling with the change of leadership and had been avoiding the pair if possible, when possible. He seemed to be handling things much better now though. She did not know if they were a pair, Aten and her, but his happiness still ment the world to her.

    Her gaze shifted from his brown eyes to his side where Popinjay had snuck to during their conversation and she cocked her head, rolling her eyes briefly before breaking out in a light laugh. This is Popinjay. I fear she's been disappointed by my berry bush but seems to be intrigued with Turul. Popinjay, I'd like you to meet Aten. Him and Turul are very close friends of mine. she says motioning to each in turn so that Popinjay would not be confused like she was sure she was about the berry bush.

    and this is Taiga, our home. Would you like it to be your home too? she wanted Popinjay to love the mysteries of her home as much as she did. She wanted to be able be there for her in a way a mother only could. Lethy would be lying if she did not admit that Popinjay had been hard to read so far. She was full of energy and her moods changed as swiftly as the rivers current, but Lethy could love her like her own if she'd let her. Her eyes watched the little girl, filled with hope and love. The purples of her irises almost seemed to swim in emotions.
    forget me not; but never remember
    Lethy

    @[Aten]
    @[Popinjay]
    IMG-20190524-092123-677
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    #6
    Aten wasn't surprised when the filly near Lethia ducked beneath the mare's belly in an effort to hide from the stallion's gaze, her tense posture letting the stallion know that she was nervous with his sudden arrival. Aten made sure to give her the space she desired, moving so that he was near Lethia's front end so he could look directly at her.

    Aten stretched out his neck and offered his muzzle to Lethia in return, gently nuzzling her in welcome. She jokes about the journey she'd had recently before telling Aten she was glad to see that the stallion was doing well himself. Aten was reminded of what recently happened when she said that; why else would she have annunciated how she was relieved to see him doing well? Aten knew that she cared for him, and he in turn cared for her. He was glad to have a horse like her by his side, whether as a friend or something more.

    But would he have the courage?

    Even though she was trying to be sneaky too, Aten didn't fail to notice the filly sneaking up on his belly to investigate the falcon sleeping on his back. He didn't move in an effort to avoid spooking the filly, watching from the corner of his eye with intrigue as she crept closer and reached up his barrel with her muzzle in an effort to smell the falcon. She pressed her muzzle twice behind his elbow first before reaching up as far as she could, her chin pressed against the stallion's shoulder blade, still trying to reach Turul.

    The falcon was in a light doze again, and Aten kept one ear turned back toward the filly as he listened to Lethia's musical laugh. She introduced the filly by name this time, her relationship with Aten and Turul, and then asked if the filly wanted Taiga to be her home too.

    Aten's lips curled up in a smile at the thought of the little filly living here, for she was quite intriguing and adorable. The stallion saw that she had not moved from his side yet, still intrigued by Turul, so, carefully, he twitched the muscles behind his withers, where the falcon's talons were resting. It took a few times to jostle him around enough, but, eventually, the falcon woke up, his eyes fluttering open as he tried to shake off his sleep.

    Spreading out his wings, Turul gave Aten a sour look before the stallion told him of the little filly. Briefly confused, Turul realized what was going on when he looked down and saw that, indeed, there was a small filly at Aten's side. And, what's more, she was reaching up with her muzzle in an effort to get to him.

    Aten was the only one to understand Turul's chuckle when the falcon opened his wings a little to slow his fall as he hopped off of Aten's back and landed on the ground near his front legs. The falcon stared at the filly a moment, tilting his head to one side before staying still, allowing her to make the first move.

    Aten decided to look at Lethia while his friend was trying to get to know the filly, smiling at the golden mare, "How are you feeling in your state? Spring is only a short time away; I assume you are excited to finally meet your little one." Aten worked to hide his disappointment in that this colt or filly would not be of his blood, for he could see himself having a future like that with Lethia. The only issue was he was too afraid to admit his true feelings.

    After all, what if things did not work out in the end? Aten would rather remain Lethia's friend than risk any future they had by saying something wrong.

    @[Popinjay] @[Izora Lethia]
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    #7
    It’s possible that she would have stood all day in this ridiculous position, nose in the air, not close enough, and yet also entirely too close to the claws and beak of a bird of prey that has no reason to take kindly to her interest. Her response to Lethy is mumbled, nonsensical, she doesn’t mean to be rude, but the bird on the stallion’s back has consumed the entirety of her attention. Thankfully, Barry - Aten? - has sympathy for her neck. Or perhaps it is sympathy for his own neck which likely aches at the thought of her standing like this for so long, because certainly Popinjay does not seem to even notice.

    When the gyrfalcon opens his eyes, the nictitating membrane sliding reluctantly away, she nickers and leans back onto her hind legs, front legs curling up between herself and Aten, so that she has to push off and to the side to make room for the bird to land. She dances excitedly, leaping in the air and kicking out well away from Turul before coming in close, dropping down on her knees beside him, hindquarters still in the air, so that she can look at him on his own level The warm breath of her nostrils stirs the speckled feathers of his breast, though she does not actually try to touch him now that he is well within reach, and only returns his gaze with fascination.

    Lethy,” she whispers the loud non-whisper of children without turning away, “could I be friends with Turul?”

    The filly has no understanding of the relationship between Aten and Turul, her people have neither pets, nor companion animals with whom they can communicate, and the idea would be preposterous to them. But they are simple nomads and have no magic, they must rely on their instincts alone to navigate the world. This is something new. Could Popinjay have a companion animal?

    Eventually, even for her young and flexible back, the bowed position becomes tiring and she tucks her hind legs underneath her sloppily, small hooves scraping at the ground. She picks up an acorn cap that lies near her left fore and deposits it in front of Turul.

    A gift.

    Popinjay
    She was not quite what you would call refined



    @[Aten] @[Izora Lethia]
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    #8
    She watched the two, correction three, fondly. Aten was careful and gentle with Popinjay and her curious nature. She found herself surprisingly pleased by this fact, and her face softened at the thought.

    Once Turul removed himself from Aten's back and deposited himself infront of the curious Popinjay a smile curled upon her lips. Aten pulled her attention away slowly as he spoke. I'm good, really good. He or she better come soon because they're definately running out of room. she said with another small chuckle. She was definately ready to see her little one, but she would be lying if she said she wasn't anxious. If she said the thoughts of her last birthing experience hadn't ran through her head a million times in the last couple weeks. This babe would come soon, she could feel it and she hoped with every once of her that Aten would be there for her despite the child not being his. She need Aten in her life, in their life, but she knew he didn't ask for this and so she would give him time to adjust and make the first move.

    Her gaze was pulled from Atens golden face by the small Popinjay Lethy.. do you think I could be friends with Turul? she asked with out breaking any focus between her and the falcon. Lethy smiled I'm sure Aten could ask him for you. They share a very special bond and can understand each other more than we ever could. she glanced at Aten briefly and then back to Popinjay. For some reason even though Lethy was not from Beqanna it had not crossed her mind that young Popinjay was also not from Beqanna. Beqanna, which is the name of all these Lands in one, is filled with a special energy called magic. Magic makes possible what you and I could only dream of in or world. One day when you are big enough you can make the journey up the mountain to ask the magic fairies for a bird of your own, like Turul. she watched Popinjay with soft purple eyes, gauging her reaction. They may need to revisit this conversation at a later time.
    forget me not; but never remember
    Lethy

    @[Aten]
    @[Popinjay]
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    #9
    Aten braces himself when the filly curls her front legs up and places them against his side so she could stand on her hind legs to look at Turul. He watched the falcon and filly with warmth and happiness in his eyes, glad that the little one seemed to be opening up at least around one of them. He had seen the nervousness in her eyes when he first walked up, and he didn't blame her. He often found that foals were quite intimidated by his size, which was understandable.

    He'd hardly met any horse that was taller than him naturally.

    Turul examined the filly curiously as she dropped down onto her knees to look him at eye level, the bird of prey preening a feather before meeting her eyes again. Turul knew that he couldn't communicate with her the same way he could with Aten. He learned this fairly quickly following their connection. Luckily, there was another who at least could figure out his message; Lethia, who had raced off to Nerine to inform Heartfire of Wolfbane and Lepis' arrival, all without a verbal word exchanged between the mare and the falcon.

    Turul had gained respect for her in response, and would always help her in times of need.

    The filly asked Lethia a question that Turul of course couldn't answer, but he turned to the mare curiously to see what she had to say. Given his connection with Aten, Turul could understand some speech of other horses, but he could not communicate back with them unless Aten was serving as the middle man.

    Aten, meanwhile, smiled at Lethia's hurry to get the foal out of her belly. Clearly, she was excited to see the little one, especially if it meant losing the excess weight. No doubt it felt like a ton of rocks had been strapped to her belly, weighing her back down. Aten couldn't imagine how worn out that might make her feel.

    He could see that Lethia was slightly anxious, and knew why. However, he would not verbally say it; she didn't need a reminder. Instead, Aten stepped closer to her and nuzzled the crest of her neck and along her shoulder, "Do not worry. I am sure that you will do wonderful raising this foal. You are strong; you have nothing to worry -" Those words started to sound false on his tongue. Aten knew things could go wrong when delivering a foal.

    "You have all the support you need," he assured her.

    Lethia's attention was pulled to Popinjay asking if she could be Turul's friend, which painted another smile on Aten's face. Lethia explained, in short, the bond that Aten and Turul shared, and the stallion would be more than happy to ask.

    Looking to his friend, the falcon and stallion exchanged a short conversation before Aten spoke directly to Popinjay for the first time.

    "Turul says that he would very much like to be friends with you."

    To emphasize this point, the falcon hopped on the ground closer to the filly, flapping his wings once and letting out a soft caw to grab her attention. Aten chuckled before informing Popinjay, "He says he would like to play with you, if you want to."

    For all his maturity and occasional wise words, Turul was still a foal at heart.

    The falcon flapped his wings to take off and circled above the filly a few times, hovering in place and motioning with his head to follow before he turned and flew a few yards away, encouraging her to give chase.

    @[Popinjay] @[Izora Lethia]
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    #10
    Beqanna.

    Magic.

    Mountains and Fairies.

    Except for the mountain, it's her first time hearing any of these words, and so she has difficulty bringing any of them into context. Popinjay screws up her face, pursing lips and wrinkling nostrils, her small ears turning backward and forward as if stirring the names in her mind. She cannot picture what a fairy is meant to look like or be, and Magic is too nebulous for even the adults to describe, though they have not tried. Is Magic a fairy as well? Is it an individual? Lethy does not speak of it like it is Anyone At All. The thought of it makes her nostrils itch and she sneezes. Loudly.

    "The Magic is at The Mountain with The Fairies."

    Hm. Obviously she's going to have to go there, it seems like the only way to get some answers. The young filly watches Turul preen, bringing order to feathers that did not seem terribly unruly her. Of course, she still has blueberry stems in her hair, so what does Popinjay know of order? As if to emphasize the point, she rolls down onto her side, rubbing pine needles and leaves into her thick winter coat, while keeping one eye on Turul who looks mysteriously between the adults, waiting for interpretation. It comes shortly.

    The filly turns to Aten when he speaks, meeting his light eyes with her own dark-eyed gaze, and when he answers affirmatively, she rolls, flipping over fully, and leaping nimbly back up to her feet. Shreds of leaves and fallen evergreen needles stick to her back and haunches and tail, there is even a bit of spider silk caught in her eyelash, but she takes no notice. She turns to Turul when he cries out, and rears, striking the air as he circles overhead, then bounding forward in a cloud of coppery leaf-dust. Rabbit-like, she leaps after him, broncing and hunching her back and neck, moving with seeming abandon yet also never coming close enough to the bird to touch him with her hard hooves when he comes to ground. A high-pitched laugh erupts from her throat as she follows the gyrfalcon away from the adults and leaves them to their quiet conversation.

    Popinjay
    She was not quite what you would call refined
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