"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
Kokachin had spent the last few days in bliss. She'd recently acquired a new home at The Gates and since then had felt like she had a place to belong. It wasn't that her home hadn't been loving or kind, but she'd sensed she did not fit there and if she stayed she would outgrown those lands in an instant. Following her instinct she'd now ended up in Beqanna and it seemed the choice had been right all along because now she had a home of her own with different outlooks and paths to choose, and she was meeting new faces. She had yet to decide what she wanted to do within The Gates but she was feeling things out and enjoying her time;However, for today she'd chosen to wander off and go find some entertainment, a new friend perhaps. Despite her typically confident and somewhat headstrong personality, Kokachin held a naivete that came with her youth, after all she was only 5, a baby by some counts. Stumbling upon the land known as the meadows following a lengthy walk, Kokachin's attention was drawn to the foliage and next thing anyone knew she'd sprawled out amongst the flowers, rolling about and taking in their scent. When she'd frolicked to her hearts content she settled in a patch of violets , their tone making the hue of her grey patches and her eyes flare to an almost blue appearance. Her eyes were already the color of the sky, but her coat carried a blue tint to it due to a slight roaning in the grey patches of her coat. Despite such a feature she was considered to be most definitely a grey. With the sun's warm gaze and the overpowering smell of violets Kokachin felt so at ease that she had no concern for what or whom may be around her, a comfort which could potentially cost her her well being.
08-22-2016, 08:55 PM (This post was last modified: 08-28-2016, 04:27 PM by Ainlif.)
The sun was high this day and he welcomed the warmth. There was a time when he was more accustomed to the sweltering heat of the jungle, but it had been a long while since he lived there. Years, even. After the death of his mate and child he had condemned himself to isolation in mourning, roaming mostly through forests and diligently avoiding the presence of others. He had loved them so dearly..
And had failed them so absolutely.
He lived in total solitude not only for his time of mourning, but also as a punishment for himself. It was his fault they had not survived, and he deserved worse for allowing a life not yet lived to be stolen from his precious daughter. He could never fail another if he never met another.
Her image would haunt him as she followed him everywhere, usually silently at his side. Seeing her was the beautiful evidence that he was losing his wits. She never once tried to touch him, and he refused to reach for her, fearing what it might do to his state of mind were he able or unable to feel her. So he left it a constant unknown; could he feel her and hold his baby girl again or couldn't he? Perhaps it was another prison he had set for himself.
Today, though, he knew he was venturing far too close to the border between the forest and the meadow. The trees were thinning out dangerously, and his stride greatly slowed. His head was held low cautiously, and he searched the trees around him for the scent of any others nearby. All he could discern were vague and distant strangers, mulling about the meadow ahead. He kept forward, but held still as he came to the treeline of the meadow, careful to stay mostly hidden beneath the dark canopy of trees above.
He could sense his daughter appear next to him as they both silently peered out. She probably would have loved the meadow.. There were more equines here than he had seen in a great while, and he felt a stiffness tighten his muscles. He wasn't one for conversation and certainly wasn't interested in beginning now. But he watched nonetheless, perhaps curiousity at what he was missing. Or perhaps he felt he was almost taking his daughter to see the places he had failed to show her in life.
There were some browns, some blacks, some yellows and roans. Another was similar to his color but lighter. His blackened face and legs warmed to a deep red-gold, his hair a dark espresso. Light amber-brown eyes stared passively as a painted mare danced across the meadow, joining the array of colors. Brilliant white splashes tinted her roan to a slate blue-gray. She waltzed some more, then lowered herself gracefully into a splattering of flowers. Her manner was so carefree and oblivious to the world around her, which naturally caught his attention. With a quick glance he noted it had already grasped the attention of at least a couple other stallions as well, that he could see.
His ear flicked back then forth, annoyed. She was young, but surely old enough to know better than to drop her guard amidst so many strangers. If not, well, then she'd figure it out on her own; it wasn't his job to save her from her naievety. With a last passing glance at the nearest intrigued stallion, Ainlif turned away and stepped deeper into the shadows.
For reasons he couldn't begin to fathom, he followed the treeline border instead of returning deep within the forest. Little Kinley pranced beside him, happy for more reasons he couldn't imagine. Occassionally, she'd trot off to the side and peer out of the trees again toward the meadow. Her ghostly image usually just stayed beside him before, and so he watched her carefully each time she left his side for a moment, suspicious of her new behaviour, only to see her return to him after a few moments.
The last time she did this, her legs kicked out as she startled at something and swept through the meadow-side of the trees. His heart skipped and he was in immediate action, bursting through the trees behind her with long strides. He slowed to steady lope as he looked around quickly but didn't see her; she had vanished. His eyes instead landed on the mare again, then to the stallion headed in her direction.
Well, Kinley, you got what you wanted.. Daddy will play.
Ainlif's ears pinned back as he glared and his pace doubled with intent. Heavy hooves slammed to the ground in a rolling thunder, wind brushing out of his way. He bared his teeth threateningly and a hunger for battle reflected in his eyes. The other stallion noticed him and balked at his immediate aggression in this gentle place, swinging his body away and scantering off with a defensive warning kick behind him. Ainlif was still far too distant for it to be an attack and, grudgingly, allowed the stallion his retreat. A good bit of him felt predatory at the younger male turning tail and escaping like prey, and he fought the urge to give chase and run him down. But it wasn't the time or place to pick fights, and there was no doubt he had a clever daughter with a different agenda.
He shifted direction, the raging fire in his veins still coursing through him. Every muscle in his body ached for the fight he could never have, the one that could have saved his family's lives. He roared in frustration, tearing across the peaceful grasses like a violent storm, heading now to the mare Kinley had apparently taken a liking to.
And sure enough, there the little trickster was, standing over the mare with a big curious grin, eyes filled with amusement as she looked down at her. He slowed as he came near, brows still furrowed in annoyance of the direction his day was going. Halting at a closer distance than he normally would, he glanced around to confirm his presence would deterr interlopers, then also looked down at the mare. His chest was heaving with his exertion and the unspent anger he kept bottled within. Ainlif remained silent, unsure of what to say and still fighting the urge to walk away, leave her to her own devices.
"I'm Ainlif," he stated instead.
Ainlif
OOC: sigh. he is..awful and always writes a novel =/ so so sorry
