"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
The invisible fingers of the cold winter zephyrs pull tenderly at the straying locks of ebony that frame the delicate curve of her face. Soft silver blue eyes blink slowly upon the fields that lay before her in a sense of serenity that belies the fast paced beating of her heart within her chest. Paper thin nostrils flare as the little darkling inhales the sweet myriad of scents that overwhelm her. New. Everything was new to her here. Sure the scent of clover and the sharp acrid odor of pine are the same... but the others... the horses that litter the landscape are new and unfamiliar.
A soft smile ghosts across her ash dusted labrums as the young girl takes a step forward, and then another. Forcing her mind to focus on the placement of her hooves and away from the nervousness that threatens to overwhelm her mind. Had mother and father still been alive, surely they would have been horrified to see their youngest daughter out in a new world alone. They knew of the dangers that surrounded their small slice of heaven known as Paraiso... but they were gone, no doubt watching her from somewhere high above the heavens. Paraiso was in good hands. Her brother was following hoofprint for hoofprint in the steps that their father had placed for him and the herd was strong and would survive. Perhaps one day she would return to visit them... but for now, her wandering heart sought something more... something different. And perhaps now, here... she would find it.
For now she stands alone, her slender figure casting a soft shadow upon the moonlight fields that rolled around her. Occasionally she would stop her searching eyes and bend her ashen muzzle to shovel beneath the frigid layer of snows and grasp a mouthful of soggy grass, dead and yellowed from winter's touch. For now, she contented herself with simply being...
Nova Star
show them the joy and the pain, and the ending to come;
I V A R i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
His presence in the field could easily be called recruiting, but Ivar is more frequently here to satisfy his own curiosity than out of any desire to add more members to the kingdom of Sylva. The urge to build a land, to rise to power – those aren’t interesting to the young stallion. He wants to explore and to learn to fight; his goals are simple.
This winter trip to the field is such an exploration.
Ivar is standing in the open, letting the soft wind play softly against his scaled hide. The pearlescent glow of the piebald stallion’s white scales against his matte black is bold in the watery moonlight. He is young and tall, and would be striking even without his kelpie inheritance. Still, his is clearly other with his too-handsome, scaled physique, and for a while it keeps him away from the small black amre.
He has been watching her for a while, long enough to have caught the scent of a land that is not Beqanna. He knows them all – his adventurous heart is also a well travelled one – and she is not from any of them. Not Hyaline or Nerine, and definitely not Tephra. His dark ears flicker in the dangle of his black mane, and his pale nostrils flare as she begins to dig through the snow in search of food.
She’s coming a bit closer, he notices, and decides that he might as well take the plunge and stop acting too curious from a distance.
“Hey there,” he says, moving toward her through the thick layers of snow. It forces him to raise his legs high, stepping carefully to avoid an unseen poor footing before the white. “I’m Ivar,” he tells her, pausing a comfortable distance away (he does not want to compromise her personal space). Offering her a friendly smile, he asks: “Are you new here? To Beqanna, I mean?”
Tangerine moves in a cloud of snow as she canters across the field. Her young legs churn the white flurries around her and she makes slower progress than usual, but this doesn’t bother her. Tang is rarely in a rush. She is not surprised when she spots a night dark mare, grazing quietly not so far away and she slows to a loose walk to go and greet her. As she approaches she gives the mare a friendly nicker, as not to surprise her. The snow crunches under her hooves and Tangerine gives a shake of her black mane to loose the flakes which rest there. It was not so long ago that Tang stood in this field, excitement making her nearly giddy, waiting to see who would come. She had left her home and family for the sake of someplace new a little over a year ago, and oh, what beautiful places and people she had discovered in-between now and then. But by the time she reaches the girl, someone else is there too. “Hi, I’m Tang.” She says to them both, her face open and readable. The gold and cream colors of her painted buckskin coat contrast warmly against the chill winter night. She thinks of Hyaline and the shelter of the wisteria trees by the turquoise lake, the air always seemed to be warmer down by the waters. She gives the newcomer a moment to answer before continuing: “I’m heading back to Hyaline now, it is a kingdom for the young and if is a beautiful place too.” Well, the parts that aren’t burnt, she doesn’t add. But come spring, life would prevail and the brilliant colors of spring would spring from the ashes. And there was still the entire western side of the kingdom left untouched. If the girl decided to come with her she could tell her the story of the fire as they traveled.
In many ways, Nova is still a child. Like a new star that first appears in the night sky and begins as nothing more than a faint blue white glimmer. Softly at first, the light is no more than a faint twinkling, a soft pale blue glow against the midnight black skies. With time and over the course of years, this faintly glimmering star will grow and strengthen until like the others, its light shines bright and full of purpose... A sign of hope and reassurance to those who wander the earth below. Nova is like this star. A tiny glimmer standing picturesque on the moonlight fields... But in time... In time... She would burn bright.
Movement to her left catches her peripheral attention. Small cupped ears flicker to attention amid the windswept tangle of her mane. Chiseled fascade turns to allow pale silver blue eyes to meet the eyes of the stranger. And strange he is, at least, in her innocent, naive eyes. Sure she had seen horses come to Paraiso with a myraid of colorful wings or strangly curved horns, but never one that looked quite like he did!
He moves towards her, his gruff baritone a welcome break to the silence that had built itself up around her. Nova cannot help but to stare at his painted black and white coat as the moonlight glints off each scale in much the same manner it gleams upon the rippling ocean's surface. He moves with purpose, his long legs lifting high to plow through the deeper drifts of snow. It is a sight that would make any mare pause in admiration and Nova is no different. Though young, even she can appreciate the powerful muscles that ripple beneath his shimmering skin.
He stops a respectful distance from her, his own ears perked amid the dark tangles of his black mane, trained much as his eyes, upon her own. He offers her a name, Ivar. Strong, fierce, and yet somehow befitting of the handsome strangely scaled stallion. She smiles at him, a smile caught somewhere between girlish innocence and genuine shy friendliness. He inquires about her newness, giving renewed life to the buried thoughts that she stuck out here like a sore thumb. She blinks up at him, her mouth parting to reply when another appears.
A friendly nicker replaces her own voice as Nova's soft eyes turn from the scaled stallion to the bright eyed painted buckskin mare. She stops before them, like Ivar keeping a respectful distance between them to prevent immediate feelings of ill ease. A friendly smile is planted firmly upon her lips as she too offers a name. Tang. Fitting. Nova cannot help but to smile warmly at the bubbly girl for she knew instantly that the two could become fast friends. Tang bounces straight into her invitation, an action that Nova had only heard of. She had been born into her family's kingdom of Paraiso and rarely ventured far from it. Recruiting new members and inviting others to join the herd had been a task left mainly to her father and brother. They had tried to explain it to her from time to time and she got the gist of it, enough to know that this was what Tang was doing now.
She lets her gaze drift to Ivar now, the warm smile still firmly planted upon her ash dusted lips as now she lets her own soft lilted tenor warm despite the biting winter cold that surround them. "Ivar" she speaks, her soft blue gaze turning briefly to Tang as again she repeats the name, "Tang", testing each syllable upon her tongue before beginning again. "My name is Nova Star, but my family calls me Nova." she begins again, pausing a moment to let her words settle between them before beginning again with a gentle flick of her tail. "As you assumed," she says, pausing to offer Ivar a coy smile, "I am new here. To Beqanna as you call it. My family lives far beyond these ocean shores in a land surrounded by high mountains. It is a place that has seen many generations of my family line.... But after father passed, I wanted to see more." she explained, pausing now to stare once more at Ivar's unusal scales. Curiosity overtakes her now as a single raven dial flickers, "Do they keep you warm? I've never seen another with such a strange coat as yourself." she remarks before blinking back shyly, thankful that her dark coat prevented any form of blush from appearing upon her cheeks. "Forgive me if my words offend you. No doubt my parents are rolling in their graves for my lack of etiquette." she adds with a nervous chuckle.
She turns back to Tang now, her gentle smile resurfacing at the sight of the bubbly mare's eager smile. "Your kingdom sounds lovely indeed and perhaps my travels will find me venturing there..." she says, her soft blue eyes and kind smile turning back to Ivar. "What about you Ivar? Do you live in this Hy-a-line kingdom too?"
.
Nova Star
show them the joy and the pain, and the ending to come;
I really had no intentions of stopping. Just a break, I’d told myself, just a quick flight and then back to business. I hadn’t even bothered to venture out west, just kept to the Forest and then circled about lazily before dropping into a lower shift of wind. From there I’d skimmed into visibility, no longer hidden by the hazy clouds of winter, and soared haphazardly over the mingling creatures out in the Field. Nothing strikes my interest at first; I’m just enjoying the way the wind feels over my gilded feathers as they beat against my sides, when a passing glance catches the glimmer of something silky and dark down below me.
It’s the reflection of scales and, as I circle lower to the earth, they belong to a stallion who happens to be speaking to an equally as dark mare. There’s three of them altogether and I know that I should probably just drift away and head home but my more inquisitive nature takes the reigns and sends me into a lazy spiral that lands me close to where they’ve gathered. I preen, only for a second to fix the misplaced feathers on my back, and then tuck my four wings close against each other as I approach - a nonchalant smile brightening my pale face.
“Sorry for the intrusion, I know I’m a little late to this gathering -” I begin, waiting for the mare’s question to tip into silence first. “- but I understand you’re looking for a place to go?” I probe while my warm, amber eyes dart around the trio. I end by holding the black mare’s gaze, that charming smile of mine deepening for a moment while I explain, “I’m Terran, and I’m sort of in the market for a permanent home myself, been looking around.” I quip, settling into a halt somewhere on the borderline of close but not too close.
“I just figured I wouldn’t go there … alone, persay. I’d like to have a herd of my own, close knit family unit of sorts.” I finish, winded but unwilling to draw out my reasons for stopping. Better to get to the heart of matter, in my opinion, rather than fleshing it out into unnecessary banter. “Is that something you might be interested in … ?” I finish, leaving the sentence open for anyone else to pick it up, even though my eyes haven’t left the enthralling ebony girl.
I want to live, I want to give, I'm a miner for a heart of gold
ooc: just gonna slip a lil' Terran in here right quick like, don't mind me :3
I V A R i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
A whicker in the otherwise still night catches Ivar’s attention. Turning, he sees a buckskin mare coming closer. For a moment he thinks she’s coming towards him, but he follows the line of her gaze to see that it’s the little black mare she has her eye on. He doesn’t blame her, and is even glad at the thought of more company. Having returned Nova Star’s smile, he waits for the skewbald mare to come close.
Identifying her home doesn’t take long; he doesn’t even have to hear Tang say it. She smells of Hyaline, of the mountains and the flowering forests. There’s also an acrid scent of smoke, fading but undeniable. The fire, he remembers; the kingdom must be recovering swiftly if they’ve recruiters out in the field already. That’s good to know, he decides, and smiles warmly at the overo mare.
The black mare speaks next ,introducing herself as Nova Star – Nova. Fitting on a dark night, he thinks as he eyes the stars on the distant horizon. Attentatively listening to her story, the young stallion does his best to picture the land she speaks of. If anything, it sounds like Hyaline (minus the central lake). Nova will like Hyaline, he surmises, but perhaps she’s left home and is looking for something a little different. When she says as much, he brightens. Ivar has met few fellow adventurers.
When catches Nova’s gaze on his scales again, the young stallion stills his occasional shuffling. “Not especially,” he tells her honestly, “Better than a summer coat against the winter, but I’d prefer to be in the water.” She apologizes for her curiosity, and Ivar brushes it away with a grin and a shake of his head. “No no,” he says, “I’m not offended at all.”
The black mare seems rather adept at conversation, something that a boy raised in near silence can appreciate. Ivar is quiet as she speaks to Tang again, and he nods absentmindedly at her assessment of Hyaline. It is a beautiful kingdom. Definitely worth visiting.
“I’m from Sylva,” he tells her, “The forest in the middle of Beqanna.” She’s new, he reminds himself as soon as she’s said it; she’s probably no idea where the middle of Beqanna is. “Over there,” he adds, gesturing to the west with his pale muzzle.
As he gestures, his brown eyes spot the approaching stallion. He’s missed Terran’s descent, but he watches the winged stallion’s approach with bright-eyed interest. It’s clear the black stallion is coming toward them, and Ivar readily steps a bit to the side to offer him a place in their company. Standing beside the other stallion, Ivar doesn’t have to wonder about why the stallion lacks the scent of any single land for long. He’s looking for a home himself, it seems, and has come to see if Nova Star might join him. It’s not a bad offer, Ivar thinks, though he realizes belatedly that he’s the only one that’s not offered Nova Star something.
“You’re welcome in Sylva, too.” He says, careful that he doesn’t not speak over Terran. The offer is genuine (all are welcome in Sylva), but it is difficult to push away the spark of excitement that he’d felt when he thought that perhaps she might share his thirst for adventure. He decides that it is worth the risk.
“Though if you’d like to see more of Beqanna before you decide where to stay, I’d love to have someone to travel with.”
Tangerine was born of a long line of nomads, truly an ancient line. But no one bragged of being a daughter one hundred times begot by another plains dwelling wanderer. Under the eye of Alma generations of her kin had danced, loved and even hated. She had learned of kindness and been taught self-sufficiency, but they didn't teach their children politics.
So, Tang is slightly disappointed, but not altogether surprised when her words appear to be wrong in some way. It happens more than it should - she talks before she thinks, or she leaves space in the air where she should insert a pleasantry. Internally, she gives a little sigh, but the kindness in her features does not fade when the girl, with softness and grace, says no.
Tang turns her head to look at Ivar as Nova directs her attention to his scales. Amet with his golden scales is brought to her mind and she wonders why she has never thought to ask him how he got them. Had he been born with them? She had learned that Beqanna is full of magic, and sometimes if a horse spends a lot of time steeped in its magic strange things can happen- like her own new dreams which seem to hint at the future.
“There are many strange and beautiful horses here in Beqanna, and a few not so beautiful or kind of course.” Tang had been very surprised by the first few traited and strangely colored residents she had meet. She feels it is only fair to warn Nova that not everyone she will meet can be called a friend. The healing burn on her hock tingles from the memory of the fire wielder who had wrought damage on Amet’s kingdom – a stark reminder of reality. As she looks at Ivar she hopes he is the kind sort like Amet and Warrick. But it appears as if the mare would not be leaving alone, so there is no point in overwhelming the newcomer with information. So, Tang doesn’t elaborate, giving Nova a chance to ask the questions she wants answered.
Then, as if to support Tang’s point another stallion lands beside the group, and the painted mare greets him with a smile before answering Nova’s final remark directed to her. “Hayaline is a lovely place, especially in the spring. You should make a point to see it in the spring when the cherry blossoms and wisteria are blooming.” She suddenly longs for spring with her cleansing rains and new growth. “Our gates are always open to the young, even just for a visit.” As she speaks, Tangerine’s honey colored eyes rest on each face for a moment before passing to the next.
When Ivar makes his last statement, Tang must make an effort to keep a flicker of longing from passing across her face. She feels the twins stir in her abdomen and is reminded again that her life is a about to drastically change. If she had of meet Nova in the fall her own offer may have sounded much more like Ivar’s than the one which she had spoken. But somehow, Tang had stumbled into responsibility.
