"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
Springtime in the Meadow is quickly becoming a favorite time of year for him. He greatly enjoys the grasses that grow taller than anywhere else, the multicolored flowers dotting the landscape, the small creatures darting along both above and below. The sun has just barely risen and he follows the bird songs, savoring the lack of equine presence in these early hours.
He’s been growing slightly weary of interactions, for he finds too much disappointment each time he realizes that he is seeing a new face, rather than the familiar one he craves. He is not wholly ungrateful for the new acquaintances, for they have all been so helpful. He is just tired, both physically and mentally.
How much longer?
The question lingers in the back of his mind at all times, taunting him at every turn. But today, he wants to ignore it, to muffle the voice, to bury it in pleasant things. So, he follows the chirping to a spot where a willow’s branches droop to skim the surface of one of the creeks that cut through the land.
He takes some time to slake his thirst and nibble at the grass before he retreats beneath the low-hanging branches. The combination of the soft bubbling of the water and the gentle avian melodies is soothing and though the day is young, he finds himself drowsy. Feeling overly comfortable, he folds himself into a prone position among the thick patch of clovers that grow here, wings spread just enough to cover his body.
Surprisingly, the echoes and murmurs are quiet for once and it does not take long for sleep to pull him under. Yes, this is exactly what he needs right now.
All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware
The road to deliverance once hung high in the sky, desperate, longing. A desire so out of reach Famkee often wondered if she'd ever get there, fully immerse in the feeling of liberation. Something that lit her soul on fire, a drive that kept her grounded, safe. That security she began to find in the smallest of things, hoping that one day the bigger things would show their face. But what did those things look like, feel like? She never even tried, too misplaced inside her own pain to discover the present. Comfortably numb. Perhaps she found salvation within stupefied feelings, but with her gift (thoughtfully ironic) bestowed by the sprites Famkee can't help but to witness her numbness dissipate, piece by piece. A frightful journey for a warrior on the outside, yet a fragile teetering conscience wilted on the inside.
Summer's welcoming heat cast it's rays into her golden hide, she nearly glowed if it weren't for her darker points. Her favorite time of the year, grasses in full bloom, the healthy swell of the river, the songbirds flittering about the meadow put a smile on the edges of her mouth. She always seemed to find her way back to the meadow, it called to her in ways she didn't quite understand. Was it to find a familiar face? Or perhaps it brought a sought after relaxation, something the soldier fiercely craved wether she knew it or not. She hadn't explored the entirety of what Beqanna had to offer, yet flashes of unknown lands plagued her mind every now and again, unsure of what it meant, or why she was shown them. Clairvoyance deemed upon a mythical being seemed fitting, but to Famkee, it only hindered her sense of reality. Surely she would make sense of her gift in due time, but for now she struggled to pick up the pieces that continued to fall at her feet.
The glimmering river whispers her name as she nears, the clear water tempts her so as the humidity begins to simmer into her hide. She didn't expect to find another face here, one of her ears tilts to the side at the sound of breathing, barely heard over the swirling creek. The normally quiet, hidden soldier decided to take her chances in the open today, unfortunately granting her with potential social interactions, something the horned mare typically loathed. Yet, there he is, peacefully snoozing beneath a tree. But not just anyone, she knew that face, serene in the depths of his slumber. The venerability was almost sweet, watching with, was it amusement? Curiosity? She always found him when she felt like she needed him most, though she doesn't know if she could call him a friend, more of an acquaintance, it didn't stop the excitement from crawling it's way into her chest. Pleasantly surprised, Famkee's thoughts intrusive as they may be, she couldn't help herself as she quietly approaches the water, only to take the liberty of splashing him with a flick of her hoof. She intended for a few drops to land on the snoozing stallion, but she managed to drench him a bit more than she wanted. She stood over him, thick bodice, the brief sheepish widening of her eyes was quickly drowned out by mischief curling her lips, trickling it's way into her gaze, though she froze in awaiting his response. Her voice was melodic, hopefully falling familiar into his ears. "Assailant."
Sleep is not nearly comforting as it should be, not for his harried soul. He had settled into his little hiding spot, hoping for relief from his complicated reality, but even unconsciousness is not enough to banish her from his mind.
As he arrives in the murky, vague dreamscape, a thick mist creeps and coils around him. It is not exactly cruel and cold, nor is it warm and welcoming, but the heavy ocean scent that comes with it wrenches at the taut strings of his heart. He can sense the heat of another’s presence, but his eyes cannot pick out even faint outlines of landmarks, let alone those of another body.
Despite the false blindness he is subjected to, he decides to move in search of this hidden party; his initial steps are hesitant, but a measure of reassurance flickers into life as he eventually realizes that the ground seems to be solid and level. His pace picks up as he continues, but no matter which direction he takes or how far he wanders, that sense of nearness never changes.
Without any warning, an odd, dull clinking noise rushes past him just as a flash of color catches his eye. The haze seems to thin at the same time and to his left, a red and gold tail flicks toward him before disappearing into obscurity once more.
He is sure that he recognizes those ombre strands, so he launches into pursuit. Though he cannot see further than a few feet in front of him, he can still hear that strange noise and that is what he follows. It seems an eternity passes and at some point, the ground changes beneath his feet, giving way much more easily (and thankfully, he does not go sprawling when the transition occurs). His muscles burn with effort, and just as he begins to wonder if the mist will ever surrender his prey, it does.
As suddenly as though a switch is flipped somewhere, the gloom is dispelled by a disorienting bright light and this time, he does stumble. He manages to recover before he hits the ground, but what he sees next makes him stop, makes him want to sink to his knees anyway.
She’s there, standing on the pale sands of what he now recognizes as a beach (though he cannot quite tell which one it is), while the ocean stretches expansively at her back. The passage of time has not dimmed the loveliness that he remembers and is only enhanced by the waves that crash and froth around her. His heart skips a beat and he hesitantly steps toward her, eyes silently pleading for her to stay this time, to take a moment to understand.
She holds his gaze as he takes his time approaching, but as he draws close enough to reach for her, a hardness settles in her eyes. The frosted scales that he had once enjoyed melting with his breath seem to harden as well, creating a layer of ice over her supple curves, a layer that seems as unyielding as the one that she’s been keeping her emotions behind.
He swallows thickly around the lump that is forming in his throat, realizing she is on the verge of flight again. As he opens his mouth to call for her, she whirls around, kicking up a spray that splatters across his face and chest, causing his eyes to instinctively slam shut to avoid the sting of the seawater. His body jerks at the surprisingly cold dousing he receives and when he opens his eyes again, he blinks into the warm sunshine that peeks through the willow branches he’d taken shelter beneath.
Disappointment floods his system; not only in that he hadn’t really seen her, but also that she was just as unforgiving in his dream as she’d been in real life. He makes a disgruntled noise at the thought, then realizes though it should not be, water is streaming down his face. A feminine voice calls his name and for a moment, his heart swells with hope, but it quickly dawns on him that the voice is different. He glances around and notices the figure that looms nearby, features hidden in shadows since the sunlight comes from behind them.
At first, he is wary and scrambles to his feet, tense with the idea that he’s been discovered by an unfriendly wanderer. He cranes his neck, attempting to find a different angle that might reveal the stranger’s face; finding this unsuccessful, he shuffles his own position until the light changes and gives him what he wants.
It has been a long time, but he quickly recognizes the face, despite being unfamiliar with the playful expression she wears. The strain of his rigid posture immediately relaxes and, though he has been craving a bit of solitude, he is grateful to see the warrior standing there.
His eyes glint with amusement as he tilts his head. “Am I still dreaming? Or is that Famkee, come to find me once again?”
All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware
Not much slipped past the warriors mind, perhaps she was a bit to intuitive, a bit too observant. More often than not, her suspicions got her in trouble. She’d never been one to poke her nose into business she had no right to pry in, nor would she try. At least out loud.
A tinge of remorse clouds her face at the speed he awakens, as though he actually had been struck with a tidal wave. She takes the opportunity to slide back a few steps, as he’s greatly unaware that it’s her at first and on the defensive. Rightfully so, still, the sheepish expression returns to her, mixing with visible guilt. Her face falls though, at the brief disappointment unveiling behind his disorientated revival. Already being overly sensitive to emotions, yet avoiding her own like the plague, it’s moments like these she begins to understand her gift. As quickly as he’d been startled awake, she is sent spiraling into another unprovoked vision, completely blinding and robbing her of anything sentient. It wasn’t just the future that invaded her, but the energy penetrated so deep she could feel him, see what afflicted his thoughts, and more importantly what ran the deepest; who. Almost a premonition type of telepathy, not exactly a mind reader, yet she’s thrown headfirst into his soul like she’s watching from the corner, a silent wraith subject to absorb every inch. She’s not used to feeling this much, even if it’s through the eyes of another, god damn it hurts.
Coming to was just as difficult, seeing as she hadn’t the chance to get aquatinted just yet, though she wasn’t sure she could ever get used to this. The coppery taste of her own blood trickling down her nose gives her a savory circumstance to return to reality. A reality she wanted to hide from, not sure how she could explain it to him, or why she was thrown into his vibration. It’s borderline invasive, and if she were to tell him, as kind as he appeared to be, she wasn’t positive just how he would respond to such potent intrusions. Love. The massacrer of all it touched. Famkee was a stranger to her, never experiencing the barb-wired tendrils it harnessed. An all consuming pit of lies, she thinks. And it proves itself in many ways, just like today. He was in love. She remembers asking him if he’d ever been in love, although this one that enraptures his heart is of a different breed, not like the previous mare he had confessed about.
His voice carries her soundly back to the present, and what a present it was, she’s grasping on to her name coming from his mouth like a tether, yanking her back. Only this time when she sees his face, it’s more pleasant, like he’s happy to see her. She wants to be happy for him, dump all her grace into his newfound affections, but the pain is still there, lingering in the background like a dark cloud waiting to unload it’s truth. Perhaps it’s not even his pain she feels, maybe it’s her own, bleeding it’s sticky liquid into her individual traumas that she desperately ran from. Love. A foreign concept, one she didn't want to explore, yet felt so deeply through his eyes for another. Beauty is pain, pain is beauty. She doesn’t know just how long she’d been cast away from the moment, or how positively crazy she might have seemed, still she sported a smile for him, pressing through.
“Ah, yes.” She pauses, recalling his greeting nearly forgotten. “I’m sorry, I,” She clears her throat, shuffling the weight of her body between trembling legs. “How are you these days?” A mundane question, paired with a shifting gaze, unsure of where to place her eyes. How could she possibly begin to explain. The word vomit barrels up her throat, begging to be released. She can’t. She won’t. It’s none of her business, yet it was shown to her, for a reason she does not know or begin to understand.
“Ive asked you this once before, but this time it feels different,” She regrets it as soon as it encompasses, wishing she could swallow up the words again. Yet, she continues, so curious to something she’d never felt, something she never would. “Who is she? The one that consumes you so.” Her ears want to flatten at her boldness, long ebony tail uncomfortably swishing at her hind legs. She wants him to understand her, as best as she could, searching for the right words if there was any. After all he’s not obligated to comprehend her, and unfortunately Famkee was never a master with words. Still, she tries her best to soothe the unfolding, he deserved it. It would be a massive relief off her shoulders, if someone could understand. Maybe, just maybe. “Im not one to pry, but not only is it evident on your face, I was shown it. My visions are..intrusive. I try to control them, yet the more I try, the more they devour.” She can’t hold his gaze, preferring to peer at the river at her own reflection, though it’s not much of an easier sight. “As soon as you awoke, I felt.. everything.” She doesn’t want to, despises it. As she grew, running from her problems only got her so far. Her legs wanted to give out, she couldn’t run anymore. Stubbornness ate at her, so strong in fact, smothering her feelings just enough to trudge onwards. “You don’t have to say anything.” Hopefully her sympathy rings true, maybe an escape. If she had the power to dissipate into thin air, a useful talent in this instant, she might appreciate the use of it. The rare timidness shows dutifully on her face, managing to return to his eyes with tangible regret. She wants to apologize, but even that doesn’t feel right. Nothing does anymore, if it ever did.
He immediately notices the guilt on her face and he dislikes it, but the expression morphs into something he can’t name, but it evokes an even stronger response. He is on the verge of apologizing when her eyes seem to glaze over and her body freezes in place. At first, he is bewildered by the vacancy that has seized her so tightly that she does not respond when he calls her name, or when he reaches to gingerly prod her shoulder with his nose. He steps back and studies her more closely, gazing curiously into the sightless eyes. Suddenly, the answer comes to him: the clairvoyance she’d been gifted after their time on the Mountain, it must be showing her something. He waits quietly for some sign that the supernatural grip is weakening.
After what seems an eternity, she still does not show any sign of rousing, so he decides to call to her again, head tilted and that feigned pleasant air about him. She does begin to stir shortly after, but he wonders if it is because of him or the blood he sees dripping from her nose. Whatever the reason, she seems unsettled when her consciousness fully returns, but she is quick to mask it behind an almost convincing smile. He is not fooled, though. He knows that move all too well, having to utilize it himself as he portrayed himself as an unbothered man that had heard of a lost kingdom and, his curiosity piqued, had gathered a group who were willing to take a gamble on restoring their home. He had told none of them, not even Kreation, with whom he’d spent the most time, his real reason for wanting to pull Tephra from the void that had consumed it.
The truth is both selfish and shallow and he often feels a burning shame when he thinks of the fond memories they had shared with him, of the genuine love everyone carried, of the profound investment they all had in the kingdom. And here he is, wanting to use Tephra as a carrot to dangle in front of the one who had left him standing alone at the edge of the Dale’s lake, to use its return as a means to capture her attention once more, so that she might at least give him a chance to apologize to her. He sighs quietly, annoyed that he had gone looking for a bit of reprieve from his angst and had not gotten a single minute of peace.
He grows suspicious as Famkee makes her feeble attempt at conversation, the tense smile still plastered across her face despite the body language that betrays the turmoil roiling within her. He tilts his head again and watches as her eyes dart from one spot to the next, never resting in one place, let alone on him. What the hell could she have seen (or felt) that had created this reaction? He nearly asks her outright, but her tongue is quicker than his and suddenly the questions pour from her mouth, pulling him into a similar state of discomfort.
Who is she?
He is at a loss for words, trapped in a cage of truths that Famkee eventually builds upon with every question or statement. He wishes he could lie, could make up some story about a pretty stranger that had caught his eye once. But she was far more than that and Famkee is not wrong when she says that this unknown woman consumes him; yes, she is becoming his everything, though whether that is a good or bad thing, he is still unsure. One of his hooves scratches absently, ripping out the roots of whatever grows in the soil beneath him. He is not sure how to answer her question, nor is he sure if he even wants to attempt to, so he mulls things over as she continues, waiting in agitated silence until she seems to have exhausted her curiosity.
His eyes are not quite diamond-hard with anger, but neither are they soft with fondness as he finds his voice again and responds, “Her name is Adriana, and she is different.” His gaze drifts toward the Forest that conceals the shore upon which she had stood when he’d emerged from the ocean after so long. “But.. she’s gone.” The slump of his shoulders is subtle, but it is still there as he looks back to Famkee. It has been one thing to deal with the aftermath of their disagreement (for lack of a better term), but it is a beast of another kind to admit it out loud, even to someone that he knows and trusts. He’s not sure how he feels about her knowing everything that he’s been trying to stifle, but a small voice tells him it’s not the worst thing in the world.
The contriteness in her expression is strange, not because he questions the sincerity of it, but simply because he has never known her to be like this. However, as he well knows, a lot can happen even in a short amount of time, and he can only imagine what has been going on in her life. He does not want to get too bogged down in his story and end up forgetting to check on her wellbeing, so he decides to try a compromise. “If you will tell me about your struggles, I will share mine.”
All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware
![[Image: EOU990v.png]](https://i.imgur.com/EOU990v.png)
Famkee [Fahm-key]