"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
Perhaps one of the closer lands, Nayl takes only a couple days to casually stroll from the coast to another forest. It seems as though so many places are wishing to embody the beauty of the Jungle in their own ways. Taiga possesses the towering redwoods, the common forest with its oaks, and Sylvia with the porcelain birches. How is it that the sisterhood lived in a dense Jungle but now a barren coast? Nayl’s heart breaks again and again when she reminisces of her childhood in the dense underbrush listening to the growls of the jaguars and songs of the birds. The ferocity and exuberance was a lullaby and a comfort to her, but those days have long since ended. Those memories are from before she realized her immortality (she watched as children her age matured while she remained ever youthful) and before she lost all the family she had.
Blinking away the sweetened images of family – of home – Nayl turns her attention to the deciduous forest that lies ahead of her now. It spans for miles in every direction and hosts a myriad of scents that she has never tasted until this moment. All these lands are new and uncharted in her mind. Nerine had kept behind closed doors since its establishment, but she is finally breaking free of those chains. Their name will rise and will coat the tongues of their peers. They will rise just as the sisterhood always has.
Her voice is brash but carries a lighter tone than it would in most cases. Although inexperienced in the matters of diplomacy and intrakingdom personalities, Nayl still knows the basics of being amiable (as best she can). Not only is she representing herself, but now there is an entire herd attached to her name, a great responsibility that she has craved for years. Where mother failed as an Amazon, Nayl has flourished. She briefly thinks back to what her ancestors were like once and what they could be saying in the heavens above them.
Nayl grins smugly to herself while she waits to be addressed.
It seemed lately that Sylva was bustling with new faces and names. Marlyn couldn't have felt prouder of her home as she stands amongst the foliage quietly away from the small group of equines that roamed the forested area. The trees were growing lush this year, the flowers blooming and bright. It was indeed a pretty view to drink in.The sounds of hooves catch the speckled woman's attention and break her focus as she observes her land. Masked features easily find the white of the patchy mare when she halts her advancement into Sylva not far from where Marlyn stood. Long limbs swivel her around in a well practiced pirouette. "Hello." Amber eyes observe the smirk on the other's lips, a look of haughtiness touching the features of the other as though she kept something hidden just beneath the feminine features. "Welcome to Sylva..." The bay spotted mare states politely as she take a few steps closer to a more easily conversational distance. "Come for a visit or to stay?" The question is opened before them in a subtle bloom as Marlyn awaits a reply. She is rather sure that she does not care for such boldness paired with the smug smile but the mare would be patient, give the other the ability to respond before she drew any further conclusions.
He trailed her at a distance, wafting from shadow to shadow like a cloud of darkness. Slowly, he was growing accustomed to all this cover that had at first seemed so dreary and suffocating. Always, he'd been able to touch the sky, but here he'd had to discover his own advantages. This was one of them, this dance of darkness.
Like a shade, he drifted to Marlyn's right flank, warm brown gaze locked on the newcomer. Training from as early as childhood had his eyes measure her in a glance. Strong, like a warrior. Though still feminine with a heat in her stare. She could be dangerous if she wished to be. But then, that's why he was here, wasn't it?
He held his silence, as had been his duty once, scanning the surrounding forest for any signs of others. She'd hear no greeting from him; always, he was meant to be invisible, faded to the background, his presence dismissed and ignored. He intended that now as well, as his gaze slowly made its way around and back to the painted one. Here, but not here. But always ready.
With expression masked, he waited at his leader's side. At long last, and once again, a bodyguard.
It’s as her eyes are wondering that Nayl glimpses Marlyn. They haven’t yet met, the scents as unfamiliar as the sights. She regards her with a mere glance at first but says nothing as a breeze tousles the overhead leaves, bringing everything to life for a fleeting moment. The canopy steadily holds Nayl’s attention until the mare slips out from behind another tree and closes the distance between them. Only then does the piebald lower her gaze from the treetops so that she may drink in the sight of whom surrounds her (the stallion doesn’t go unnoticed in all his stealth). The tranquility of the land has bled deeply into the residents, or so it seems by the serenity that engulfs Marlyn’s mannerisms. She doesn’t introduce herself, but nonetheless Nayl is welcomed into their home.
”Hello,” she responds, subdued by her uncertainty although it still remains masked by an air of confidence. Her eyes, beautifully the color of fire, sweep across the mare before sifting the trees to find the male. A mere nod acknowledges him, but her attention returns quickly to its origin. ”I’m merely coming for a visit,” her head inclines slightly and the corner of her mouth turns upward into a small grin. ”I’m Nayl of Nerine. I’ve been wandering this new Beqanna to see what lands lie outside of my own borders,” her admission is spoken with her interest beginning to peak, her eyes lit by her curiosity. This is one stop among many.
Nayl slowly reaches back to scratch her shoulder, taking comfort in having trees surrounding her again. Although it lacks the humidity of the Jungle, it’s at least more reminiscent of her last home in comparison to Nerine. ”Tell me more about Sylva,” she wants to know everything about each of these lands, ”and who you are.” There is a hint of ice in her voice, a hardened gleam in her eye.
