• Logout
  • 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


    Dreams of Colour
    #1

    keep your dreams in check

    Rouhi quickly takes flight from the edges of Hyaline, te heavy rain suddenly rushing toward him as he flies above the clouds, looking down toward all the dark and different shapes that the clouds create. 
    The male frowns at the thought of being caught up in the cold rain, he begins to fly toward the forest where he may be able to get at least some cover, especially since it seems the clouds of rain are already starting to waver, leaving the forest exposed to sunlight.
    The stallion touches down swiftly, his wings folding against his body softly as he looks around, for now, he is alone, and while it seems quite peaceful for now, being alone was a horror for him in the past.

     The audible patter of rain suddenly becomes louder as the stallion enters the thick forest, the dense canopy above creating a crisp voice of vibrating leaves and droplets of water slamming against larger leaves and dropping down to the forest floor, creating a minuscule earthquake of dirt as the droplet of water impacts the ground.
    The painted male waltzes into the forest with a smile, his wings softly brushing against the trees as they extend, it has been quite a while since he had been in the forest, though there was no regret in him as he looked around, indulged by the soft dulcet tones that surround him.
    The stallion lowers himself onto a small patch of tall flora that he has revived and nourished, most of them tower over his lean body as he spreads out against the grass, his head gently slamming against the dirt.

    For now, he is carefree, though he knows his rebirthing period is approaching, a fiery spectacle of uncomfortable tingling and, well, exploding. The thought makes him huff deeply, uneager to even think about it much.
    The stallion heaves himself into the air, shaking off all the dirt as he begins to walk again, weaving through all the different types of trees as he looks to the canopy above, the small bursts of light that manage to pull through the thick canopy cast a pretty array of colours and lights, reflecting against the pools of water that form in shallow areas of the forest.

    Rouhi

    @[City]
    Reply
    #2

    Strolling about Beqanna seems to be mostly what Padme’s little life has consisted of. Following her mother faithfully, stuck to her side and quietly observing everything that passes her by. She’s seen some interesting things – some things she will forget and some things she will be branded in her memories for the rest of her days.

    City is skinny, but not quite cripple looking. A little bony beneath her red-freckled hide as she moves underneath the forest’s dripping shadows. The gray mare and her tiny piebald baby, bright eyed and bouncy as she moves closely glued to the tall mare’s hip. The rain stirs a beautiful smell, an aroma that Padme will later cherish.

    The pair moves in silence like cats, the sound of their quiet foot patter and the rain filtering through the canopy. Sunlight is trying to come through, touching the forest floor in a soft dappling light that comes. The storm seems to be a quickly passing one, or perhaps just a scout cloud for a bigger storm to come; the forest is always a pleasant place during a storm, as long as the trees above are sturdy.

    They pass a patch of stirred earth as they walk with no particular place in mind, just walking about. They are not loud, moving over the moss beds tenderly as they move through the trees. City investigates where the stallion had rolled and determines his close proximity and his familiar smell as well. “Rouhi.” her granite voice calls out to him and it echoes through the sentinel trees. The child looks up to her mother and then back to the foggy spaces between the wide trunks to see what might emerge.



    CITY & PADME
    the high black water, the devil's daughter



    @[Rouhi]
    Reply
    #3

    keep your dreams in check

    The sound of raining seems to slowly fade as the clouds above drift away, leaving stray droplets of water on the canopy that slowly make their way down to the forest floor, sliding off of large leaves and crashing into the muddy earth.
    The scent that is left behind by the brisk appearance of storm clouds is quite charming. An earthen aroma, combined with the fresh scent of flora that whisks its way into Rouhi's lungs, creating quite a glee expression on the grulla's face.

    Though this expression quickly fades as he hears his name called, a single word that shakes him slightly, his body turning to face the sound.
    The stallion walks slowly toward the voice, at first slightly apprehensive.
    "Hello?" he calls out, walking around in the silvery gleam of mist that forms close to the ground, rising into the air until it reaches the canopy where it dispels.
    "City? Is that you?" he asks openly, unfolding his wings and beating away the mist as he comes into a small clearing where a mare and her foal come into view.

    At first, he is surprised, but slowly a smile forms on his young features "Ah, how nice to see you again" he says warmly, folding his wings and coming closer to meet the two.
    "What brings you here, following someone like me?" he says humorously, lowering his nose to greet the foal.

    Rouhi

    @[City]
    Reply
    #4

    The forest is quiet. Only the mother’s footsteps and the child’s swishing tail are heard over a symphony of breathing and gently falling raindrops. Pinewood and moss, the fresh smells stirred by a passing rainstorm. It is a favorite smell of Padme’s already; perhaps the Forest could even be considered a favorite place of hers. She loves to move through the thick fog, watching it dance and swirl ghoulishly away from her and litter her fur with prismatic sparkles when it settles. The birds begin to come out, to chirp and sing their melodies as they beckon the sun back out even if it only for a few humid hours. Shafts of light illuminate the spaces between the trees, the mists flowing patiently between the trunks as it rises to evaporate.

    Her ears prick to his footsteps, his smell carrying up into her nose and she grins. His voice is next, calm and gentlemanly. She remembers the feeling of his voice in her ear, the sound of his chuckle and the smell of his flesh. She stands silent, alerting the child to do the very same (which she does). She lets the quiet sink in,a cloud of mist moving between them to allow the space between the three to clear. She stares at him and with a soft tone, the ghost woman speaks. “Hello Rouhi.” she whuffs, taking a confident step forward, her kid keeping to her hip. “I thought maybe you’d like to see what you made.” She steps aside to allow him to see her, and in that second or so, Padme realizes who she is looking at. Rouhi was her father, her mother has told her as much.

    The filly is shy, but for whatever reason she was embarrassed to show it and so she pushed herself to step forward. “Hello.” she blinks, looking up at him in wonderment and a little sprinkle of fear.


    CITY & PADME
    the high black water, the devil's daughter
    Reply




    Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)