"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
you and I both know that the house is haunted and you and I both know that the ghost is me
As she mentions the jaguars, all he does it smile. He would protect her against them, but he hopes that it won’t come to that. After all, in his last trip, they had recognized him—or the jungle’s spirit had at least. While the feral cats may not know him by name, they normally at least recognized his comfort in their kingdom and left him alone. He had raced alongside the giant predators, but he had never fought one.
“Lucky for us both, my day is wide open.” He grins at her, looking toward the border of the meadow and gesturing toward it. “Shall we?” And, like that, he begins to lead her south past the land of quests and the land of challenges and skirting the border of the desert. It is not a short walk, but he finds that he does not mind it—and he minds the company least of all. She is bright and glossy and the conversation flows on easily between the two of them, ebbing and flowing as the companions made their way to the jungle.
When the buckskin stallion begins to feel the heat set in, he breathes in deeply, muscles warming gently. It felt like home. Finally, when they reach the border, he comes to a cordial stop, giving her a slight smile before calling out to whichever of the sisterhood was near. He knew it was unorthodox for a member of another kingdom to stop by for a visit, let alone with a guest, but his ties to the kingdom were not orthodox. He could only hope that the current residents were as gracious about him visiting his mother’s home (and the home of his heart) from time to time as they were during his first life.
For those afraid of the Jungle’s cats, Rhy is both the best and worst horse to find you on the border. She is no native Jungle cat, but she’s still a cat. So it’s good, because the predators of the Jungle leave her the hell alone, unless it’s to play. But her claws and teeth, when she wears them, are just as sharp as any others. And it’s bad only if you stumble on her when she’s in lioness form. All the Sisters know the lion in the Jungle is her, but strangers typically do not. Granted, some are smart enough to figure it out. Lions don’t usually live in the Jungle, after all.
Rhy didn’t mind visits that didn’t require her to play diplomat. Sometimes it was a nice change of pace. She’s been a diplomat pretty much all her life, and sometimes she just wants to be her. Wants to wander through the Jungle and talk and do nothing of any consequence. Too much of her time is taken by playing nice. And mostly, Rhy is nice, but sometimes she wishes pretty words weren’t so well ingrained into her head. She’d like to be as blunt as Lagertha’s sometimes.
She could be. Oh, she could be so many things. But she cannot bring herself to stop being Riagan and Rayelle’s golden girl.
The smell that reaches her from the border is familiar. No, she had not been present on Magnus’s other visits, but she’s usually well aware when there are visitors in the Jungle. She simply doesn’t go, if there are enough Sisters already there to take care of the matter. Not to say she doesn’t sneak around the meeting sometimes and eavesdrop. Being half dead had it’s advantages sometimes…invisibility, you know.
She weaves through the trees easily, in horse form today, looking entirely alive and normal. None of her traits are showing when she finds the pair on the border, and she gives them an easy smile and a nod of her head. “I’m Rhy. How can I help you?”
Grinning as Magnus agrees to her idea of a date, Cinzia follows his gesture and begins the journey towards the Jungle. The line of conversation flows easily between them, gentle and unrememberable in the best of ways. Her wings twitch from time to time as the heat increases, but they do not spread; a little discomfort is a small sacrifice for the enjoyable company.
Almost too soon, the couple halts at the border of the massive kingdom. Her breathing is silent next to Magnus’s healthy inhale. Macaws cawing, howlers howling, Cinzia ought to cringe away from the chaos; instead, concentrating on the stallion next to her, she relaxes, truly opens her eyes, takes in the beauty, the sepia trees and lush underbrush. She ignores the sweat gathering on her navy-sheened hide, too ensnared by how large the land is, and how very small she has become.
Just as she remembers to breathe again, a pretty palomino mare breaches the emerald growth. Smokey blue eyes slipping on to the smiling woman, Cinzia studies her for a moment before allowing a reserved smile. While she’s aware that she had instigated this whole journey, the fact that another has intruded upon the occasion sours her mood slightly. This is a kingdom though, she rationalizes with herself, clearing the clouds brewing above her head. I can’t really be surprised.
”I’m Cobalt, a pleasure to meet you Rhy.” Her tone is low, the undercurrent of wind on a seemingly motionless day. ”This is Magnus.” Her angular head gestures minutely towards her golden companion. Unconsciously stepping closer to him, the mare tilts her head gently towards the kingdom’s interior with another restricted smile. ”He offered to show me around a little; I’m a bit of a hermit.” Her gentle laugh plays into the cacophony of the Jungle, eyes taking on a happy twinkle. “He’s taking me out of my shell.”
you and I both know that the house is haunted and you and I both know that the ghost is me
It feels strange to be both at home and stranger at the same time, standing at the border like nothing more than a visiting diplomat while his veins sing to rush into the jungle’s belly. It takes all of Magnus’ restraint to hold himself back—and were it not from the glossy-smiled mare at his side, it might not have worked. But, Cinzia is there, and while he may be confident in his ability to wind through the trees, his footing steady through the thick of the vines, he was not sure he could say the same thing about her.
And what kind of gentleman would he be to abandon his companion?
So he waits, smiling down at her and then looking around, dark-tipped ears flicking back and forth atop his head. It is only when Rhy joins them that he forces himself to concentrate, his lacerated lips pulling into a rougish, crooked smile. “Hello Rhy. It’s a pleasure.” He pauses, letting Cinzia introduce them, finding no small pleasure in having the tiny female stepping in to lead the conversation.
“The Jungle is my homeland,” he explains in his whiskey-tones, nodding his golden head a little. “On my last visit, Lagertha was kind enough to say I could visit—so long as I knocked.” Here his grin becomes a little more knowing, remembering the sharp edges to the Amazon Queen and liking her all the more for them. He had to imagine Twinge would have liked Lagertha just fine. She was a spitfire just like his mom.
“So, here, we are…knocking.” Humor sparks in his eyes as he holds Rhy’s gaze, hoping that she would not find the visit too intrusive or too extraordinarily outside of the realm of their current diplomatic stance. The Gates may have an open border, but that did not mean all the kingdoms followed suit. “I hope that we are not too much of an intrusion,” he pauses, voice genuine. “I just miss the Jungle often.”
She’s pretty sure she should be annoyed that other kingdoms are just waltzing around the Jungle like they own the place. And by other kingdoms, she means Magnus. She’s not unaware that he’s been here multiple times, calling on his heritage to earn him some unspoken place here. Rhy doesn’t go running to the Falls bringing guests, or the Gates even (though her family, though adoption, still rules that kingdom). But Lagertha didn’t seem to mind too terribly. And Scorch had done the same for Straia, giving the Queen of the Chamber a near blanket invite to come should she ever need anything. Blood was a powerful thing.
And really, Rhy was about the last horse to actually get annoyed by anything. Though there’d been something in her lately, something eating away at her good nature. Maybe it was something she couldn’t see, left over from the frozen sting on the monsters in space. Maybe it had poisoned her, something that didn’t attack the body so much as the mind. Because part of her wants to laugh and send them away. She doesn’t need strangers offering to give tours of the Jungle to more strangers. He may have grown up here, or whatever his ties were exactly, but he didn’t live here now. And he was one side of a war that Rhy wanted no part of.
But thankfully, Rhy is still Rhy on the outside (and most of the inside). Her smile is easy and never flickers, her gold-flecked eyes always pleasant. She is still mostly her, except for that dark part of her mind that whispers terrible things into one ear. But no one else would ever be able to tell, and for that, she is thankful. She’d make a terrible diplomat and even more terrible counter to Lagertha’s warrior nature if she couldn’t manage to be herself.
“Nice to meet you both,” she says, nothing to Cinzia and Magnus after they have said their piece. She focuses a bit on Magnus with a playful little grin. “I know. I’d be really terrible at my job if I didn’t know you had ties here, given the number of visits you've already made.” She chuckles slightly, her smile still easy and pleasant, and it’s obvious she’s making polite conversation. She doesn’t need to tell him how she knows, that she’s prone to slinking around while invisible. Invisibility is more useful when not everyone knows you can do it, after all.
“I suppose I should say come in, then.” She steps to the side as she says it, making it clear they are welcome in the Jungle. The dark part of her mind hisses slightly, wants to send them running. But still, Rhy smiles, and no one would ever know unless they could read her mind. She hates the dark little beast, hates that hiss in her head, and simultaneously wonders what it would be like to give in to it. “I’ll leave you two to it,” her grin broadening just slightly, like they are clearly on a date. She has no idea if it’s true, but she can’t help the smile anyway. “Just yell if you need something.”
Soft tail swishing demurely about her hocks, Cinzia’s ears tip towards Magnus as her quiet voice fades away, though one occasionally snaps to a sudden noise emanating from the rainforest. Her eyes cloud slightly at the mention of Lagertha, though she knows that she couldn’t place the name to a face if her life depended on it.
Smiling shyly at the end of the man’s gentlemanly spiel, Cinzia allows her gaze to befall Rhy. She seems playful, bold, and large despite her clearly Arabic bloodlines. The navy woman straightens slightly, though this does absolutely nothing to aid her vertically. Laughing softly at the overo’s jibe, though her smile broadens genuinely as she steps aside. The beginning sounds of a ‘thank you’ hiss through her lips, but at Rhy’s very subtle phrase and implicative smile, her cheeks burn beneath her skin and she simply nods, teeth showing as she smiles sheepishly before hurrying by as politely as possible.
Hoping they have left the knowing woman’s hearing range, Cinzia cools the fire of her cheeks and subdues the unladylike giggles which threaten to bubble out of her tightly-held lips. After nearly tripping over a well concealed vine, she also slows her pace, glancing to Magnus apologetically. She obviously isn’t very good at this.
“So, Mags, this is your birth-home?” Instead of dwelling on her infinity of shortcomings, the mare launches back into her playful banter, eyes taking on that self-same spark as before. “It’s waaay louder than I am. It’s a wonder you’re interested in me at all.” Grinning almost foxishly, Cinzia returns her gaze to their path, ever focused on not tripping (women can multitask, after all).
Ears flickering to and fro as though spasms attack them, Cinzia indulges in the cacophony with a more confident chuckle. It’s easier to be herself when no one else is looking. “I can see why your favourite colour is green, that’s for sure.” Inhaling deeply and to great effect, the cobalt woman swings her head around generously before giving a solid nod, and one more well-aimed smile. “I can also see why you love it.”
you and I both know that the house is haunted and you and I both know that the ghost is me
Magnus is acutely aware that it is not polite to call upon the sisterhood so often—and even more impolite to bring a guest to show their kingdom—but he is grateful that Rhy does not turn him away. He may not live in the Jungle anymore (and, truthfully, he would be discontent to live in a kingdom where he could not serve as a full-fledged member), but it was still his home. Even if the Gates and the Amazons were to end up on different sides in a pending war, he would be hard-pressed to fight against them. Not that he admitted such weakness aloud, but he knew in his heart, he would not be able to bring harm to them.
Smiling toward Rhy, he simply dips his head and then glances toward Cinzia with a smile.
As they make their way through the kingdom, he stays most silently, weaving his way deftly through the arching roots and tangled vines that barred their path. Purposefully, he kept their path along the edges of the kingdom without cutting toward the center. He knew Rhy was being gracious by letting them enter, but he also knew that the sisterhood was a fiercely private kingdom; he would not upset them further by letting a stranger see the inner workings of the jungle and get to know their topography. Magnus knew their landscape was an enormous advantage when it came to war, and he would not see that spoiled.
He laughs when she finally speaks and glances up to see some of the birds taking flight from where they had been nesting in the trees, upset by the sudden rumble of noise. “You get used to it. Everything else begins to feel…empty.” The Gates had been difficult to adjust to for that same reason, although he had learned how to deal with the quiet during his stint in the Chamber—there it was mostly silent except that faint thumping of his father’s heart. “You aren’t quiet though,” he looks at her with gold-flecked eyes. “Even if you don’t say much, you are very much alive and loud. I can practically feel your thoughts.”
Smiling again, this time his expression wistful, “The green here is unlike anything I have seen anywhere else.” It was brilliant—sometimes jeweled in tones, other times almost as dark as midnight—but it was always alive and vivid. He loved it. “I’m glad that I was given the chance to show you it in person.”
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