"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
Who cares if hell awaits?
We're having drinks at heaven's gate.
The summer season always coaxed the Maribel from the icy embrace of the Tundra. Yes, her family and life was there. Dad, Mom, Nevi, Australis, Argo...and now Romek was apart of the list. The rocks in her existence but even so, the warmth of sunlight on her slender back, the painting of dapples from the treetops across her withers and cheeks was a temptation she was powerless against.
On this day, in the eyes of all Beqanna, the honey dipped mare moves to the great grass sea, shaking away the thickness of her coat to the sleeker one beneath. As she moved, her skin shifts to blend with the grasses, streaking of greens and golds along her rubs and belly, her mane a sky blue, (Mari enjoyed shifting her coat whenever possible for it was a challenge sometimes to camouflage herself), till she edged beneath the trees to blot her frame in mock filtering of sunlight.
Long lashes fall over the pale azure of her eyes, the weight of her walk flowing the colors like ripples in the water up and over the curves. The intoxicating scent of flowers and the blanketing humidity made her heady, giddy. Her body parts the tall grasses in her wake, lids lifting when she snatches at the tips and seeded parts for a small morsel to sate her. But from the corner of her eye, a stallion catches her attention. He stands not far off from her but their gazes meet.
The grass green and yellow streaked mare returns to the sticky honey hued of her everyday wear when she decides to give him a nod (her shifting before the view of others was a subconsious action). "Hello there." Sapphire depths watch as she tilts her head slightly ebfore moving her hindend around so she may better face the man. Limbs lift as she take a generous few paces, curious of the new face. "Beautiful day." The remark is casual, obvious, but starting conversations were difficult enough already without criticizing oneself.
Who cares if hell awaits?
We're having drinks at heaven's gate.
A shadow dips and cool from overhead but the honeycombed woman pays no mind. After all, it was a ceaseless blue sky with the smallest wisps of cloud bits. She looks to the stallion that drifts near her, eyes too hooded and a smile too wide as he approaches in an unabashed manner. He invades her space, almost corralling her away but as Maribel begins to protest with pinned lobes and sharp incisors, there is a shift in the air.
From above and in the blink of an eye, he lands. A large male, far taller than Mari, plops himself right in the midst of the rogue male attempting to herd Maribel off to some unknown location. The winged stallion begins to address his manner of arrival, shifting his form to equine when the brutish stallion turns tail and flees. The surprise of the manner sends Mari into a fit of colors, (like spinning a color wheel).
From a lime green to cherry red and all the colors in-between flush her form till without any thought that a vivid cobalt blue that saturated her finely etched form. A thick plume of indigo-violet bleeds across her brow as her unruly forelock covers the sapphire of her eyes. "Well hello Gendry-" Her tones are mildly annoyed with the frustration of being unable to see before a toss of her skull sends the deep blue-purple mane in a flip of a flag. "I'm Maribel." A smile tangles across her lips as she looks around for the savage stallion that had been crowding her but upon seeing him hightailing it away, her gaze returns to her reddish companion. "I'm glad you showed up." Her laugh is soft as she meets his gaze once the peals drift to a small chuckle. "Nice to meet you." The now blue mare tilts her head slightly as her lips meet once more when she falls quiet before him.
Eyes fall over him as she notes his unique hue, the trained eyes as they are on her. He is taller, fuller to the eye but Mari is always willing to meet and greet. The slender woman shifts her weight to the hind left leg as her right lifts to drive at the insects tickling her belly. The summer sun was fat and full above (and clearly jealous) of the equines so it's lustful gaze warms their backs in an unrelenting embrace.
Who cares if hell awaits?
We're having drinks at heaven's gate.
Her heart. Oh, bless her heart. The poor thing is yammering away in her breast as she does understand the words the stallion speaks. Concern rushes the blue irises and brightens them with her visible concern. She does not seem to understand that the color of her skin is the correlation to other things, other places, other horses.
"I am exactly who I am suppose to be." The words come out soft, a whisper across velvet lips as she answers the truest (the only way she knows) way to the blood orange stallion. Mari is afraid he will lash out if she tries to speak more or offer some sort of comfort to the stranger. She only moves when the muscles of his jaw tighten to a breaking, tearing point. The sapphire that swallows her eyes attempts to search his own but he closes them, cutting her off with a sharp snap.
"I'm not sure..." The young mare really isn't. She is a child still in many aspects other than her physical form. Her mind words differently, more naïve. It does not conjure up thoughts of angry, lustful males. She has yet to bear a child or even been approached with such an idea. With a slightly skewed head, she stretches the curled neck a bit closer as she tries to understand but fails to do so.
Perhaps if she were gifted to read his thoughts, or empathetic to feel his pain, the strike of blue that consumed her coat would slip away but she does not know nor realize the change that slunk through his bones and organs, an earthquake of savage emotion that vibrated his very being before her. "What do you think he wanted?" The question is left hanging in the air. Mari wonders if he knew something she did not.
