"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
Her home was strange, different, and she knew: she had felt the changes, and she could hardly say she cared much if at all for them.
Grass spread wild, and the foliage grew densers every year; but this was nothing compared to the growth of the trees. Thick and heavy the misty jungle had grown wild and unchecked: vines and creepers stretching across every surface and grasses so tall and thick that ever between bush and sapling? There was almost nothing but shadow and ambush grounds.
Branches rattled and the winds carried: autumn brought cold and chill but the volcanic area was nearly untouched by this… no frost and no loss of green. Such it was she noted their congregations and their groupings… the stories and rumours; but more importantly? Myrkari had long stalked the changes of leadership and the wild patterns of activity… Magnus, Vulgaris, Leliana.
Blinking her hazel eyes she ignored the sunlight the struck her face as she sauntered around the jungle… lighter built and possibly hot blooded, she moved quickly and with grace- her thick mane and tail guiding behind her and the wild curls allowed to whip around too and fro in the breeze. Her feet, though, did not provide a thudding sound and instead the raptor-like toes stretched and tapped: leathery and birdlike with lengthy, deadly talons.
She ran at one point: bolted and would have crashed into a tree; but her body phased through it.
The birdlike mare continued to move about, clamouring and climbing periodically before leaping downward in a pouncing motion. Stopping finally, she rested near a great fallen tree… moss covered and heavy jungle around her- a creek nearby and her toes uncurled as she stretched.
Lifting a leg and turning her head: she idly scratched behind her ear… Myrkari’s earth colored fur shining and touched with bites of brown.
He’s been spending more time supposedly adulting in Tephra. He thinks this loosely, of course, because adulting is hard work and he’s only actually attended one meeting and one diplomatic visit. Otherwise he’s just been around, no longer slipping away from his parents as a game but simply getting up and doing what he wants. After all, he is a stallion now, and truthfully his parents have never paid much mind to what he’s been up to as long as he came back safe and sound within a reasonable amount of time.
He’d taken his leave of them, so to speak, finding his own space to lay down at night and not reporting to them all the time. They were still around here someone, living their quiet and contented lives. Aedan, on the other hand, was just beginning to figure himself out. That is where he stands now, at the cusp of adulthood, his future a broad horizon of possibilities before he.
He prefers not to think of it. Instead he just does.
He goes on diplomatic visits he has absolutely no business being on, apparently. Or today, he wanders around Tephra and decides to talk to a pretty red mare who is…okay maybe she’s both pretty and a little scary with those talons. He spots them before she spots him and he contemplates fleeing, but deciding that is absolutely spineless and pathetic, he makes his way over instead. The markings on his black skin glow softly, mostly drowned out by the sun but somewhat visible in the shadows of the trees.
He is hard to miss though, a piece of the night sky brought to life. His eyes, kind and exuberant things, and still strange and eerie in their flat whiteness. His mane and tail have never grown, staying short and standing upright, a million little soldiers on what is proving to be a solid neck. “Hello,” he calls, catching the mare at exactly the wrong moment as she scratches herself with one of those ginormous talons.
Way to go, goober. Catch her while she’s itching. Maybe she’s trying to itch you away, idiot.
But he’s here now, so he persists in his folly. “I’m Aedan. Do you live here?”
to be fearful of the night
aedan
@[Myrkari]
Use of mild power playing is allowed; no injuries without permission
