"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
-Oh my love, don't forsake me; Take what the water gave me-
There is a dynamic already built between the women, founded on steel and stone. Risen high by their mutual respect and love for one another, the temple she and Jah have built as a sanctuary for themselves houses Circinae’s long-hidden heart inside. So, when her lover’s bright cherry lips leave soft indentations of affection against the crook of her sour mouth, Circinae can only tilt her head longingly after that embrace once Jah has lifted it, and join in the rush of excitement over their impending journey.
There’s no need for teleporting; following Jah’s lead the tandem pair clatter through a twisting riverbed and up the other side of the crumbling bank. From there, they’ll roll easily across open land - flashing manes and tails streaming behind them as they go. Circinae’s eyes often roam to where her partner comfortably travels beside her, every coil of coppery-colored muscle giving Jah a buoyant spring and appealing look. “Raeanne…” Her heart whispers; a faint reminder of the red girl she’d already lost once, so long ago.
“Never again.” She promises herself, a tune as old as time now. With the sudden expulsion of pent up energy, the green pony-mare lifts her forehooves with renewed zest and strikes out to jump from their meandering pace to a fresh gallop. In her desire to run from memories past, Circy wishes to first loosen the weight on her shoulders. A good run is an excellent excuse.
“Race you?!” She calls out, streaking past Jah-lilah. A mad sort of grin accompanies her, giving the Hyaline diplomat the air of one who’s forgone reason and morals in favor of a bit of fun. This talk of ‘flying high’ intrigues her; there’s eagerness to see just what her Spark-and-Flame has in store for them.
Oh, the bloodred bay will overtake her - there’s simply genetics at work in those unbeatable odds - but for once Circinae feels the elation of being hunted, being chased.
So I'm back to the velvet underground, back to the floor that I love.
Circinae's mood is dampened for only a moment as my red mare insists that she snap out of it. The girl looks longingly after her, and in a flash is side by side, stride for stride with Jah-Lilah. Easy, so easy the seafoam queen makes everything look. There is a certain return to their roots that comes with the decision to avoid teleportation, and my primitive mare relishes it. Down into the river and up the other side they go, careless and sloppy in their mirth. Jah doesn't care. She lets out a whinny of joy as they stretch their legs to traverse the length of the land in front of them. Her heart races, but not from the exertion of their jaunt, it is the Wolf-of-the-Water. She is anxious, butterflies dancing in her stomach, yet, there is another stirring. She still can't put her hoof on it, but she feels...different. Strange cravings, a hunger like she's never known, it's like she's been changed since being with Circinae and Canaan.
Her mate suddenly launches herself forward as if shot from a canon, and Jah can only watch in admiration as Circy's powerful and perfect haunches carry her away. That dark mane streams behind her like a banner, and Jah-Lilah calls out again. She moves like a well-oiled machine, and instantly my firefly is caught up in her. A playful remark is tossed, and Jah-Lilah obliges willingly. She lunges and breaks into a mad gallop, whistling. She catches up in ten strides, but keeps just off the pace. She idles just at the flank of her lover, and suddenly is in character. She bares her teeth, ears pinned to her dome by the wind. She nips the girl, feeding off of her excited energy. Nipping her again with a growl, she sees the approaching land of Sylva.
The game of predator and prey is paused momentarily as her senses are flooded with the sights and sounds of the party. She slows up as they arrive, nickering low. Her sides heave as she catches her breath, inhaling deeply to see if the can scent her and @[Circinae]'s consort, @[Canaan]. The red wytch turns to her love, her light, breathless and grinning. "Can you see him, Wolf? You said he's coming too?" Her hide gleaming with a thin layer of sweat, she sidles alongside Wolf-of-the-Water, pressing her warm body against the mare.
In a room with some lace and paper flowers, back to the gypsy that I was.
