"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
i've been saving my soul for someone like you. so let's love while we're young.
The girl child is not sure why she is here. At first glance one could see the bay and teal child was too young to be without a dam unless necessity or death provoked it. Her small brow is furrowed upon cresting the sand kingdom. It stung her blue green eyes when the wind rose and spit the granules against her pelt. Now and again she would welp against the spur.
Thin teal limbs pull her over the shallow dunes before finding purchase of land, real land made of grass and soil. The small skull swivels to search for face or scent. This was outside the only home she has know.
Outside the forest.
It was scary.
It was heart-stopping.
It was exciting.
The small nostrils flare as the faintest glimpse of another's scent on the stale breeze, taunting her. Autumn was settling into Beqanna and so the atmosphere was drying more than usual, heightening the senses. With an ungainly grace does the filly turn to see the bearer of the pheromones. It was female and that is comforting to say the least (or so she thinks). A small call is given, high and melodic like the tinkle of tiny silver bells on the summer breeze. The russet child ceases her movements and looks keenly for movement, small points trained to hear a response. Keilani is aware of her gifts, the armor formation from light and self aura manipulation. They would be invoked only if there should be a threat from the other female equine.
The small girl draws a breath inward, chest full and small skull high for whatever decided to meet her call.
Keilani
self-aura manipulating, light armor equipped daughter of pazuzu and lirren
(i'm still getting use to this little girl so forgive me. she doesnt see voly yet but can smell her
Burn slow, burning up the back wall Long roads, where the city meets the sky
Home? The concept was a simple one to Volcan: from the sands she was born, and in the sands she would remain forever after. The little girl could not be swayed on this matter; for now, that is. As of yet she knows naught of her lineage, of the Jungle blood which flows powerfully through her veins; but that’s not particularly true, is it? Daughter of Scorch, who was born of Katriel, the Desert Queen of old; and yet Scorch called Echion mother, and Echion was the Jungle Queen of old. So much history, so little opportunity for the girl to learn of it; but fate does not work according to opportunity. In the end, perhaps it will come down to who Volcan sees as her true parent; Vanquish, King of the Desert, or Scorch, Queen of the Jungle. Decisions; ones that have already been made in the past by her predecessors.
Ignorance is bliss they say, and the girl thrives in its embrace. The oasis shimmers about her with an emerald beauty, and it captivates the smoke girl. Palm leaves, blades of grass, flower stems; she could look upon them all endlessly. And on this day, she allows herself to be all too consumed by the beauty around her; when a tinkling whinny breaks through the gentle breeze, Volcan snaps out of her revere, instantly reaching for her telekinesis.
Brushing her conscience just over top of her power like an archer over the edge of her bow, Volcan approaches the caller, placing it as a female according to her scent. As she sets eyes on the curiously coloured filly, Volcan hesitates; the children whom she has met (and avoided) have been harmless, and blissfully annoying. The smoky-roan doesn’t know whether to just turn and leave the situation, or to herd the baby back to God-knows wherever her mother is.
“Humm,” She murmurs thoughtfully, slivered eyes narrowing even further in her scrutiny of the foreign-smelling child. “Hello,” Her veiled voice finally replies. “I am Volcan. This is my home.”My home, she thinks, toying with some grains of sand around the other girl’s hooves; usually the smoke girl remained just that, but today, she felt almost… volcanic.
This is not the end, this is just the world Such a foolish thing, such an honest girl
to be honest it would be really cool if they had this child-battle (in mocks even or something so it can be legit) and then fall in love BECAUSE LOOK AT ME JUMPING TO PLOT CONCLUSIONS LMAO
i've been saving my soul for someone like you. so let's love while we're young.
She can hear an echo of the drum in her thin chest. The muscle is lean and strong like her body. It possesses a strength that she did not know it had but later in her life she will come to understand. Teal pools narrow slightly at an approaching figure...
The bay child is on the downdraft so she must see who it is that nears rather than scent. Over a slow swirl of dried soil does the dusted form of a smoke child emerge. Upon closer observation does Keilani finally pin the delicate equine as another filly. Ears prick forward at the approach as another like she for it was slightly reassuring. Should there have been any other larger than the russet and gree-blue girl...well...it could have been rather ugly.
The other girl is a silvery black, like the sheen on an anaconda's belly.
(dragon scales)
The dark eyes swallow Keilani and makes her feel small even though they are close in age and size. Her own teal pools meet and match as she stands her ground, chin lifted and the ever so slightly pink nostrils expand at the scent of the roan filly. "Volcan." Keilani tastes the name that the sooty child offers and in return pronounces it over her delicate tongue, disregarding Volcan's gaze, looking over the sand kingdom for but a moment before she returns her attention to the pit-less pools. "I'm Keilani and currently without a home." Her retort is ever so slightly curt, a bit sassy but could be interpreted as playful, perhaps challenging.
She falls quiet in the company of the lass, a slight curl touching her somber features as she awaits a reply, if it should come at all. Inside the depths of the bay girl, she hopes the other does not leave. It was honestly kind of nice to meet someone her own age despite the prickly introductions.
Keilani
self-aura manipulating, light armor equipped daughter of pazuzu and lirren
@[Sid]
ermergerd i am sooo sorry this took so long...i was in a slump BUT YES! i am always up for love story<3<3<3 if you want, i know its been a bit, but we can age them up if you like after this post..up to you! im am ok with whatever, love
