"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
There exists in her a duality.
One is a mare who loved, who stood chest-high in baptismal waters, who waited years to touch what she coveted most. A mare who learned to smile and be soft, who loved her children, held them close.
She feels that girl slipping away, a face on the water. She isn’t sure if she’s sorry to see her go.
The other is a thing crafted by experiences, the growth of a dark heart forged in His lair, made more vital by everything after – by love lost, by cruel words, by the taste of blood on her tongue. This woman dresses herself in lightning, learns her magic (she is still nascent compared to most, her tricks clumsy, save for the lightning – that bit comes natural). This woman knows it is a pleasure to burn.
Both of these beings exist within her and sometimes it feels like two hearts beating in discordance. Sometimes she feels split, torn in a way that cannot be repaired.
(But then, she has always hurt.)
She walks in the meadow like she’s proud, swathed in lightning like a storm thundered to earth. She walks untouchable and likes it that way. Besides, the lightning hides the brand, His mark that sits on her hip, the mark she cannot heal with any magic.
She is not His, though her body speaks otherwise, a lie carved permanent on her skin.
03-15-2016, 05:40 PM (This post was last modified: 03-15-2016, 05:41 PM by Jedi.)
Jedi was curious to what the meadow held today. Summer was coming to an end and the next season was fast approaching. The wind has picked up and made the weather bearable as the hot sun was still out for most of the day, The sun was now setting and the wind was getting stronger making for a chilly night in the meadow.
Breaking his daydreams he noticed a silver mare enter the meadow. He stood for a moment in the brush just watching her movements. He was not familiar with this mare and wondered if she was new to these lands. The mare walked with courage and that was something enjoyable to see. Jedi decided to move from the brush and approach the mare. He picked up into a trot until he was near her. "Good evening, what brings you to this meadow?" Jedi spoke confidently with his head held high. the Pinto gave a nicker and pricked his ears forward awaiting a response from the mare.
She pays little mind to the seasons, they bleed and change with no notice from her. Time, too, is a face on the water, a thing that stretches and warps around her.
(When did she last see her? A year ago? Five?)
She is aware, in the dulling light, of movement – a painted stallion moving through the meadow, his gait easy and smooth. She watches him and strengthens the lightning without really thinking. It’s natural now, like breathing. She cages herself so they
(He)
may not cage her.
For a moment she brightens when he is close enough to touch, the air sparked around her. She is a warning sign, neon and light. But the buzzing fades down, lets him speak – he seems harmless enough.
He asks what brings her here, as if she’s come for some grand purpose. None of her true answers could be spoken – I come here because I met her here, I come here because I lost her here – so she goes with another choice, a safer one.
“It’s my home,” she says, “as much as anything else, it’s my home.”
A pause. She considers leaving. But the loneliness of the night stretches before her like an ache, so instead she asks this of him:
“And what brings you here?”
The mare was distracted as though she had a different life that no one knew about. Jedi was a normal horse and was learning there was horses who had powers that one dreams of; jedi wondered if this mare had some powers of her own. pushing the thought out of his head as it was not his business he listened to the mare as she spoke. her home? he thought to himself. Was she from here? perhaps she was from a different kingdom, he has not learned every kingdoms scent. He imagined a different kingdoms horse would be more rude towards him though.
He cocked his head and with his attention on her and a clear mind he spoke "Just out for a night stroll" he said with a smirk. "I have never seen you before, do you belong to a kingdom?" the stallion wondered. Most horses do not wonder out from there kingdom at night, rather stay in together so it seemed odd that she was in the meadow nearing the night.
03-15-2016, 09:36 PM (This post was last modified: 03-15-2016, 09:36 PM by Ashara.)
Amber eyes spot her comrade; the painted stallion took to his role as quickly as she had done hers. In fact, he was succeeding her in rank which to say politely was a little irritating. His boldness was serving him well so far, but in this instance he seemed unaware of the power before him. The static in the air was palpable, the silver goddess seemed to glow with power and the brightness of the electric wall.
The golden mare approaches carefully, her loyalty with their kingdom binds her to protect her associate. As she nears, she takes in the details of the majestic woman. Every feature and curve a thing of beauty, the hint of sadness and wildness in her eyes in breathtaking. Ashara’s fear turns to awe. Herself nothing special, just an average mut, her best feature the mere shiny colour of her palomino coat, although dull compared to the silver. Standing beside the pinto brute, she dips her honey-coloured crown in respect to the splendour in front of her. This feeling inside her more than just admiration but a want, a desire to take away that sadness, a desire to touch her. She finds it hard to breathe but somehow finds words. ”I couldn’t help but notice your beauty and I just had to say hello.” It was half true. ”Hello Jedi.” she gives a acknowledging nod to the stallion beside her before returning to the eye candy. It seemed the woman was quite happy in her current living situation but Ashara couldn’t help but hope or wish the mysterious vixen would join them in the falls. It would be a pleasure to be in her company even if she did not reciprocate the feelings the Palomino femme had brewing.
Wherever I am, is exactly where I'm supposed to be.
She belongs to none of the kingdoms, the only association held to them is a meeting with an old queen (and a raven, now made of electricity, flying overhead), and the dull ache of kings and queens thudding in her blood from generations past.
She has no desire to rule or be ruled, and has no loyalty to pledge.
The only thing she belongs to is Spyndle, a golden mare gone. To her, she is the most devout of subjects, pledged to her even now, even after all that’s transpired.
(Once, she belonged to Him, though it was not a willing ownership – in His kingdom of ash and bone, smoke and sulfur, where he took everything from her and gave nothing back.)
The stallion doesn’t know the vastness of the land – she’s met many here and most of them she’s never seen again. But then, she’s never sought them out.
He asks of her loyalty and she almost smiles, wishing it was so simple, that she could live soft in protected in some land.
“No,” she says, “kingdom life isn’t for me.”
(He’d been a king thrice over, before He was a god.)
Before she can ask the question in turn another comes, a golden mare who makes her heart ache for a moment (for after all, there was once a gold mare she loved so dearly, though her golden hue had been nowhere so rich as this stranger’s).
This mare speaks, praises Cordis like she is an idol, and to this Cordis does smile. The electricity around her fades further, lessening so she might speak over the buzz.
“Thank you,” she says, because it is polite. She hears the mare greet the painted stallion – Jedi – and glances to him.
“My name is Cordis,” she tells them, unsure of what else to say, unable to look upon the gold mare for too long lest the memories spark.
Cordis her voice is soothing and enticing to honey-coloured ears. There is wisdom and experience in that tone. The stories she probably had would fall on welcome, pleading even, auricles. How odd and out of place it would be to see this silver creature caged in a kingdom, answering to anyone but herself. Her independence deepening the awe. But there was still a sense of an emotional scar, a darkness to her aura. That touch of vulnerability seemed like a crack in her wall, the tiny possibility of closeness, and Ashara was drawn to that like a magnet. She moved in a little closer despite the danger, pulled to the others scent, the lure of her coat. But alas the goddess was better off being free or with someone of her own stature so the palomino pulled away.
”Ashara. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She cooed before realizing what she had done, what she had showed, what she had felt. Like plunging into cold water the wave of emotion shocked her core and took away her breath. Liquid pooled in her eyes. For 6 years she had locked away those feelings, for 6 years she denied ever loving and now she risked everything. She tried to regain her composure and looked away as the images of a chocolate filly filled her mind. The affectionate eyes, her gentle touch: her friend, her love. The locked away memories kept unfolding until resting on the one where she was kicked out of her home, exiled from her family for those feelings. And now she risked losing her place in their kingdom, her new home, if Jedi shared her secret. She knew he’d be disappointed, maybe even angry. She saw the way he looked at her, the same way she looked at Cordis moments ago, and although fond of the warrior would never be able to reciprocate those feelings. What use was she now to her king, she would not be breeding stock, nor give the stallions reason to protect her. Poise returning, perhaps the painted stallion didn’t notice, perhaps she could fool him the way she had fooled herself for 6 years. ”Perhaps our paths will cross again” dipping her crown to the electric woman, hints of forlorn in the tone. Looking to the stag, she tries her best to flirt. ”See you at home?” It felt awkward and forced. She searched him for a reaction, praying her home would still be hers to call.
Wherever I am, is exactly where I'm supposed to be.
The bay and white stallion looked over the silver mare, she was a beautiful sight to say the least, his attention was fully on her until he heard noises of another approaching. He said the golden coat and shortly after the familiar voice of Ashara. He gave a smile at the sight of his new friend. "Hello Ashara" he responded to her returning his attention to the silver mare.
He listened as the silver mare stated she had no home, nor did she want one. He gave a nod of understanding and respect "ah I see, do you just travel alone than?" he asked curious to her life style. Ashara seemed rather fond of this silver mare and he had to admit the two standing by each other were a beautiful combination. Asharas gold coat complimented the silver mare and vise versa.
He listened as the gold mare introduced herself and realized he had never done so, and never caught the name of the silver vixen. "I am sorry I never introduced myself, my name is Jedi" he rushed to input after Ashara introduced herself.
The stag cocked an eye as the gold mare moved rather close to the silver mare and backed away almost out of shock. she seem mesmerized by the silver mare, but that would be natural at the sight of her. see you at home? what did that even mean, she has never spoken to him in that manner. Jedi had tried to court with the golden vixen but gave up after his attempts failed. "uhm....okay?" his response was in questioning as he was still confused by her actions.
