"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
For a moment, the world is a blur and he is lost amidst a maelstrom of light and color and sound. Then everything coalesces into sharp focus as he finds himself standing on shaky legs in the midst of the forest. For a moment, he cannot quite recall anything, cannot remember why he is here, what he had been doing, or even who he is. But the force of those memories crash into his brain with hard precision, leaving him reeling as he tries to sort fact from fiction.
But it had all been real. So very, very real. The pain and blood. The torture. The battles. The exhaustion. His body has been healed but he aches with remembered agony. His memories are still jumbled though, a swirling confusion of devotion and anger and love and hate. Even though the halter is gone, the emotions it had forced him to feel are much too palpable.
He stumbles forward a few steps, shaking his head as he tries to clear the terrible thoughts clouding his mind. It takes him a moment to realize that the scales he had armored himself with have not disappeared with his injuries and magical abilities. He freezes, dark brown gaze sweeping across the portions of his large frame that he can see. While they are most definitely scales exactly as the ones he had so recently worn (finely wrought, encasing his body like a second skin, shielding him from harm while allowing him freedom of movement) they are of a strange material. A rainbow of hues gleam in the dim light, smooth and hard, almost like… stone?
His muzzle dips briefly as he skims it gingerly along the surface of his skin. Yes, most definitely stone. A glittering gemstone that shines, bright and hard, in the twilight of the forest. He shakes his head again, confusion reigning supreme as he tries to sort his memories into some semblance of order.
For a moment, he’s not entirely sure if he can. For a moment, he thinks he may have just lost his mind that that queer and awful and disturbingly wonderful otherworld.
A sliver of silver made it's way across the harsh, winter-striken earth. Odezsa had left the confines of the jungle to go exploring again, something she enjoyed doing from time to time just to stretch her legs and see what the outside world was up to. Of course, why she chose to do so in the brutal cold was beyond explanation. Silly even, as some would call it. Odezsa didn't really mind, the cold kept her alert. Well, it at least kept her from getting too wrapped up in her own world. Of course, notorious for being consumed in her own head, that cold winter day was no different.
The jungle was finding alliances. Odezsa did not have much to bring to the table and perhaps subconsciously that's what drove her out of her home that day. She wanted to be able to participate and bring with her brilliant ideas and make her fellow sisters proud. Things were in a weird transitional point, with Lagertha up and disappearing and Lexa stepping up to claim the throne. Yes, things were quite exciting in the confines of the jungle. But not exciting enough to keep the silver mare grounded for too long.
She sashayed through the forest, smiling at the satisfying crunch her hooves made on the hard ground. It felt so nice to stretch out her limbs and just see all the new and everchanging faces that came with this strange land. Speaking of the devils, Odezsa slid to a halt as she drew near a stallion quite unlike any she'd ever seen before. Something covered his skin, scales it appeared. She surely did not mean to stare, but then again, it was slightly difficult not to. Everyone here was so unique looking. She sometimes wondered how she'd been born so plain.
"Hi there!" She peeped up, after a slightly prolonged silence. "I'm Odezsa." She smiled warmly at him, her eyes every so often glancing towards his shield, questions reeling in her head. But she finally settled on just one, painfully stupid question.
With the weight of every new discovery clinging so heavily to him, it takes him a moment to realize that he is standing in a foot of snow. Snow. He had been taken in the dead of winter. Surely he has not lost too much time then. This offers some small measure of solace to the scarred stallion, even if it is false comfort.
Time, unfortunately, has not been so kind. On top of everything else done to him in that wretched otherworld, he has lost nearly a year of his life.
The crunch of snow alerts him to the presence of another, causing him to stiffen. His scaled head comes up, brown gaze turning flat and a hard as he widens his stance so as to better defend himself. But instead of an enemy (those fairies, with their magic and deadly skill, have scarred him more than he would ever care to admit), a rather innocuous looking buckskin mare with silvery tresses appears .
Of course, one should never judge another based upon appearance alone. Certainly creatures an eighth of his size had caused him more than sufficient damage. Indeed, he is quite certain he had nearly died in that queer place. Several times.
But she is bright and chipper, her voice kind and open. Everything that he is not. For a moment, he wonders how she might have fared in that place. He is glad then that it had been he taken, and not an innocent. Not someone like this happy mare.
She would have all the joy he could not, and he would give it to her gladly.
It takes a moment for him to register that she had asked him a question, leaving the air still and quiet for what is no doubt an uncomfortable amount of time. ”Shannisoran,” he finally responds. ”Shan, if you like.”
Glancing around him, he cannot help the chill that races down his spine, one that has nothing to do with the cold. He is fairly certain that whatever magic it is that had deposited him here is gone, but he cannot remain. There is simply too much raw, terrible energy in this place.
”Will you walk with me?” he continues, gaze shifting back to Odesza as he starts forward. Anything to get her (to get himself) away from this place.
She was beginning to feel at home. Odezsa had now made several friends, although half of them probably had no idea the little lady considered them to be that close. She was learning the ways of the land, how to get around, the best places to meet new faces. However, she still had not spent much time in the forest. But that particular day she was delighted to have stumbled in. She had wandered quite a ways from the safety of the Jungle, which was not exactly wise in the weather but she could care less. Winter would be over soon, which saddened her because it was her favorite season. Only because of the anticipation of all the new life and beauty that would emerge with the spring. She loved the cleansing of winter, the death of the old.
Odezsa waited patiently as the stranger she'd so boldly addressed seemed to be a little lost in his mind. She could not blame him, what a delightful place to be lost! Nothing was more satisfying to her than feeling as if she was in a magical other world, only to realize she'd constructed the place inside of her own head. Darkness and sorrow never followed her there, only light. She'd never truly felt loss or anything of the sorts, and even if she had she'd find the silver lining. So she could not blame the fellow for being wrapped up in whatever it was he was thinking of. Of course, he didn't quite seem as happily lost as she. She tried to hide her dismay, she hated seeing others in pain.
Shannirsoran....." The syllables rolled awkwardly off her tongue, as the name was quite a mouthful to her. She smiled warmly and sighed in relief when he offered a nickname.
"Shan," she nodded to herself, then back to the scaly critter before her, still keeping her mouth shut as to what was the deal. "It's a beautiful name, even if I struggle with pronouncing it." She added sheepishly.
She watched as obvious discomfort seemed to grip his body, followed by the proposition of a walk. The last time she strolled with anyone it had been with Lagertha from the field to the Jungle, a rather tricky and long route that had left her slightly winded. Perhaps a brisk winter stroll would prove more enjoyable. Perhaps a normal female would have made sure the man she was about to prance off with wasn't crazy before following him blindly. But Shan was already moving and Odezsa was not about to let her new friend leave.
"Of course!" She chirped, taking a few extra long strides to bring herself in pace with him.
Perhaps he is crazy. Completely mad. Right now he feels like it. With the past and present warring inside his mind, it is very possible. But even in madness, he presents no danger to the spritely young woman who so easily falls in alongside him.
He is a protector. A warrior, yes, but a defender first. And he has already decided that Odesza needs protection, whether she wishes it or no. He might have once been forced to protect a vile creature against his will, but that does not change the fundamental nature of who he is. Of what he is.
If anything, it had enhanced it. Drawing that piece of him to the fore, teaching and training and honing those skills until they have become second nature. He might despise the way it had been done, it might destroy him mentally, but it is not something he is willing to change (or, more accurately, capable of changing).
The silvery mare’s compliment takes him by surprise, causing him to look at her rather askance. But it is clear she means only well, that she is truly so kind and good. He offers her a slight smile, though it feels wooden and out of place on his lips. It has been so long since he has smiled in truth, but he has no desire to wound this mare, even if it is only emotionally.
She readily agrees to walk with, so Shan keeps his stride slow and steady, despite the urgent impulse to leave the scene as quickly as possible. He resists, because he is stronger than his base instincts. He resists, because he would not leave her alone so close to such massive amounts of dangerous power. But he allows the silence to stretch, the crisp air still and silent until he realizes that he should be holding up his end of the conversation. So, finally, he speaks, even if his words are rather uninspired. ”What brings you here? To the forest?”
To his surprise, he finds he does actually hold some curiosity, some desire to know what had brought her to the location of his reemergence into Beqanna. Perhaps there is some hope for him after all.
He seemed friendly enough, she decided rather quickly. Of course, in her eyes almost everyone did. Her limbs sang out praises as she stretched them, not realizing how much she had needed to just take a little walk. The slightly out of place smile he offered lit up the mare's face. With her ever so crooked grin plastered upon her face, she continued in silence beside him. Odezsa loved talking and getting to know others, but she always struggled with the best way to approach conversation. After all, she never had anything profound or really interesting to say. More than anything she valued small talk and pleasantries, and a good backstory of course. But deep down she yearned to have her own story to tell. There wasn't much to it at the moment, so she chose not to bore anyone with the terribly boring details of her mundane life. Of course, to her it was alright to be mundane. She was just happy to be alive.
Summer's heat gently patted her back and she let out a sigh of contentment. Although summer was her least favorite season, the dry heat out and about felt far better than the sticky and muggy air that hung out in the jungle. It was a beautiful, unique place to live, but one that came with a climate Odezsa was still adjusting to.
As the small patter of hoofbeats continued, she grew a bit restless. The silence hung over them, and for a moment she wondered if she had made a mistake. Perhaps company was not what the stallion was seeking, and the thought made her heart clench up, as she always loved good (or bad) company. But if she was more a bother than a pleasure she would remove herself from the situation with deep regret and continue about her day.
However, just as her expression was growing puzzled, he finally spoke. A simple question, but one that Odezsa herself had not yet thought to ask. She glanced sideways at him as the moved, her eyes trained on his face as he spoke. It was meant to be polite, she wanted him to know she was engaged and listening. Of course, it could have looked a bit creepy, how intently she stared.
"Ironically enough, I just needed to stretch my legs." She giggled whole-heartedly at her own joke, before blushing a bit and regaining her composure. Surely he had not thought it was funny, and she silently scolded herself for again using humor most foals wouldn't even care for.
"I, um, I live in the Jungle. It's lovely, but I just wanted to see faces and explore." Her answer was transparent, no hidden intentions or meanings. Lying had never been a strong suit of hers.
"And how about you, Shan?" A subconscious nod in his direction. "What brings you here?"
