"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
Keep a little fire burning; however small, however hidden.
Hyaline's autumn isn't much cooler than Tephra's, though the humidity of his island birthplace is unmatched. Smoak inhales deeply as the air grows heavy, tinged ever so slightly with sulfur and brine, his upbeat trot carrying his champagne frame across the invisible border and into the verdant field. He hasn't returned to the volcanic island since Mom and Dad had left Tephra for the throne in the golden forest of Sylva, and though he is a fan of Warrick, it isn't the father of Solace and Svedka that he is searching for today.
Instead, his hazel eyes rove the sweeping greenery for his aunt as he moves further into the humid territory. The grasses lick at his legs and tickle his underbelly and Smoak tosses his bone-plated head skyward as he revels in the familiar sights and scents around him.
He whistles then, calling for Scyla as he continues his search with hazel eyes that skip across the landscape, lingering only briefly on the residents that he happens upon before moving onward to find the steel and ice mare.
After some time, the young stallion grows irritable ─ could she have left? Had she found a home elsewhere? He doubts that she would have left Beqanna entirely, not without his father, but Smoak also knows that the relationship between Dahmer and Scyla had been strained following something that had transpired with a white wraith stallion who had since disappeared from current events (though they had all been sure not to give him the full details). With waning hope, the young stallion tosses his head skyward and calls out again, his voice gruffer and deeper than the last time he had seen her. "Aunt Scyla?"
Smoak
@[Stormie] - Wasn't sure if you wanted to do Scyla or Harrier or both! I know I totally dropped the ball on getting this done sooner -_-
All the other kids with the pumped up kicks
You'd better run, better run
Out run my gun
The golden child of Scyla had been making rounds. She vaguely knew of her Uncle, Aunt and cousin, but Scyla's discussion of them was minimal at best. Instead she saw her mother's flight feathers grow slowly back, saw the weight reapply itself to her skeleton even more as Harrier stopped nursing from her. She had expanded the areas that Harrier could explore slowly and the golden child learned quickly that she had to keep her singular ear constantly moving, constantly listening to everything around her. Her own body became gangly, awkwardly balanced as she grew. It was clear that she would be around her mother's height and the foliage of Tephra made her coat almost metallic in the gold it reflected. Her blue eyes were that of the ocean on a clear day, though at all times there seemed to be a storm brewing.
She was on her daily run, scanning the borders of the lands that she was born into. It was only then that she saw the pale stallion. His whistle catches her singular ear and she pulls up short, her haunches flexing beneath her and her balance only slightly off as she stumbles to the side. She watches him silently, with curiosity. He entered Tephra as if he owned the place and no one else that saw him seemed the least bit worried. Harrier followed him, trying her hardest to be sneaky and for the most part succeeding. If he listening closely, he'd see her closing the distance between them.
It's only when he screams for who he was searching for that she pins the singular ear back. Overly protective of her mother, she snakes her head low and trots towards Smoak. "Who the hell are you to be asking for my Mother? How dare you come here! You are not from Tephra!" She doesn't assume that this was this cousin that her mother mentioned from time to time. It could be someone trying to deceive her and hurt her mother. How was she to know? Scyla had kept her so isolated that her social skills could be compared to more of Desole's than Scyla's awkward attempts. Harrier would one day be more like her grandmother and father that her mother--but for now there was still a swirl of emotions as her own body grew and changed.
