"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
05-20-2017, 08:58 PM (This post was last modified: 05-20-2017, 08:59 PM by Perfect.)
what I gotta do to show these girls that I own them
So Pangea decides to go fall off the face of the earth. Perfect hopes that the silly goat Bruise goes with it. Something was wrong with that boy for sure. At least now it frees Perfect up to go wander the rest of Beqanna all willy-nilly like.
The first stop of the young girl is the river in all it's wet glory. The inky mare moves on over to the edge of the water, shouldering a few of the other horses out of the way, nipping with pinned ears at the stupid creatures that think she is scared of them. Whatever.
The spring breeze lifts the white forelock up and away from her sea glass gaze. She is a pretty thing, conceited and angry (like most teenagers) and takes it all out on the world. Spoiled by the looks of grungy older men and forever young and beautiful, Perfect dances between the raindrops, melts hearts with the flick of her lovely hips.
Such a bitch.
Those pretty eyes fall upon a boy standing near the water's edge but she does not know what to make of him. One none existent brow quicks slightly as she juts her chin upward towards him. "You...what's your name?" Perfect eyes him as she impatiently waits for him to answer, storm clouds forming upon her expression.
i know i'm not the center of the universe -but you keep spinning 'round me just the same
Yawning, he turns his head this way and that, stretching out the cricks that came from a long doze. The sun has warmed his dark back – overwarmed really, he feels a little roasted – and he immediately looks for shade. He is standing ankle deep in the water, yet despite over half an hour of a perfect stillness the silver minnows still seem wary of his pale legs. Ivar hasn’t noticed this, and given the recent arrival of the black mare he doubts she has either.
It seems she’d been the thing to wake him up. Yet as he meets her sea green gaze, she seems irritated with him.
Why?
Had he done something while asleep?
Or perhaps he stands in her portion of the river?
“It’s Ivar.” He tells her. He is clearly uncertain; his tail flicks nervously and he keeps turning his head as though to leave. The yearling remains though, bound by the constraints of propriety.
(a few more feet and he’s in the water. safe)
The sun is still uncomfortably warm on his black back, and Ivar glances over the older girl for a moment. While some part of him knows that this is what a beautiful woman looks like, he has not yet entered young adulthood. It will be soon – very soon, for he is tall and growing stronger – but the careful scrutiny he gives the stranger is entirely without lust. He is only cautious, wary, and feeling a little trapped.
“Who’re you?”
-------------------i v a r ------------------------------------djinni and stillwater---------------------------------
what I gotta do to show these girls that I own them
Patience is not her virtue. In fact she doesn't really have any to begin with. Perfect just watches the boldly painted boy with a pursed (hurry up!) look till he finally answers and she breaks away her gaze as though his name satisfies her and she drops her head, white mane sliding down her neck, to taste the cold waters.
There is a bit of water dribbling from her chin when she raises her head up again to look at the boy who still stood in the water. What are you looking at Ivar?" The dark girl asks as she walks out to where he is, sloshing water and splashing recklessly. Pale green eyes peer down at where their legs stand in the water. She snorts lightly as she drops her head close to the water, scrutinizing something that is not there.. "I'm Perfect, by the way." The girl murmurs as she concentrated on the slow motion of the water around them but all she sees is their reflections in the water. How stupid. "So you from around here Ivar?" Perfect asks after she lifts her head to look at her companion, ticking her head slightly as she inquires. Perfect thinks she likes the way his name sounds in her mouth so she makes an effort to use it.
i know i'm not the center of the universe -but you keep spinning 'round me just the same
It’s not fear that causes the ominous thudding of his heart as she comes closer, but nor is it something more pleasant. His chest feels like the cage of a furious bird, constrained and uncomfortable. He holds his place in the water regardless, his instinctive wariness sparring with instructed politeness and losing.
“I…nothing…” he stammers, “I mean, just the fish.”
The piebald colt is not used to being lost for words. He is always charming, always ready with a quip. Yet his mouth is pangea dry as he watches her inspect the water at their feet. She seems smaller from this closer distance, but he does his best to lean away and avoid any contact with her at all. She’s also not an adult, like he’d assumed from a distance. She’s definitely older than Ivar is, but not by much more than a year.
That makes him minutely less stiff, but he is still waiting for her to step away. She speaks instead, telling him that she is perfect. Ivar is startled, but then he realizes that perhaps she means it is her name, and not simply a truthful adjective. The roller coaster of uncertainty that he feels with the black filly doesn’t slow when she asks him where he is from. The smoky black colt has always been forthcoming about his home before, so the desire to be less than truthful is a novel one.
Still, he is what he was taught to be.
“No.” he says, “I’m not from here. I’m from Sylva.”
-------------------i v a r ------------------------------------djinni and stillwater---------------------------------
what I gotta do to show these girls that I own them
"Hm." She remarks after lifting her head away from the flow of water. Pale eyes are watching the smokey hued colt closely as she catches his reply. The girl attempts to hold her demeanor but she sways away on thin legs and disrupting the stillness of the water. If there were any fish left at their feet, well, Perfect has certainly driven them away. "Sylva...I've heard of that place." She speaks with her he'd way from him, looking over the river and the horses they were drawn there.
Boredom settles across her dark features as she exhales the lungful of air that she had not realized that she had been holding. Long white rail flicks against the ripe end of her hide to drive away the fresh slew of insects that had already emerged for the spring. Perfect glances over her shoulder at the painted boy with his question looks and pleasant features. Perfect already likes him much more than the goat-boy but she wouldn't let on though she will probably hang around him for a little while long.
"I was in Pangea before it drowned." The remark is made over the same shoulder that she looks at Ivar though he has not asked but she falls quiet, tossing the thickness of her pale mane out of her eyes when the wind tangles it. The girl is not sure what else to say so instead she dips her head to lap at the cold water that swells around her ankles, moving deeper in the liquid to make it easier to reach till it is nearly chest high, wading into the water with a small smirk touching the edges of her lips.
i know i'm not the center of the universe -but you keep spinning 'round me just the same
When she looks away, Ivar takes a moment to catch his breath, mentally attempting to slow the quick patter of his heart. He desperately wants her to leave, to go back t wherever it was that she had come from. Then she says that she can’t, and his head tilts in genuine interest for the first time.
He had felt the earth shake and smelled the sea from Sylva for the first time a few days ago, but it has not occurred to him that Pangea might have drowned. Swept away by the sea, he suspects, though he isn’t sure why. Mother had always cautioned him about the wasteland, and as he follows the curving line of Perfect’s rump with his brown eyes, he begins to understand why.
He doesn’t watch her with lust, but as the dark mare slips deeper into the water, something stirs.
Ivar has only been swimming with his mother and father before (and once, as a young child, with Kylin). They belong in the water as much as he does, but this mare does not. She is a land creature; if she cannot live in a drowned land, should she be in the water at all?
The pied yearling steps closer without thought. The light reflecting from the water reflects on his intense gaze, and for a moment his brown eyes seem to be silver. Though her smirk is probably not meant to be reassuring, Ivar takes it as such (or at least seems to) and follows Perfect into the deeper water. The current is not strong here and it is easy to hold his ground.
“Where will you go now?” He asks.
-------------------i v a r ------------------------------------djinni and stillwater---------------------------------
