"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
His muzzle, lifting her eyes up to look at him, does not startle her. For a moment, the pair is silent, her emerald orbs staying trained on his icy blue hues. A chemistry that has not been matched in her life - it seems as though they may have more in common then she previously suspected. She catches herself before she smirks, forcing the edges of her lips downwards as she listens to his words. He talks of his father calmly, deep voice smooth and unwavering. For a moment, the flower child cannot help but feel jealous of his recollections of family (even if they weren't the best). Her memories before her escape during the Reckoning stayed ever-hazy...the only blood she knew was her mother (and she barely knew her until their recent meeting).
"I will NEVER be my father." He glances over to her as he emphasizes the word "never", beckoning her to ask a question. Her curiosity gets the best of her, and with a subtle sigh, she asks: "And why's that?"
She takes one step closer to the handsome stallion, flipping her chestnut tresses from falling into her eyes. The painted mare smiles at his question, finding it to be a perfect opportunity to tease. "Well, there's swimming and running...and the flowers are beautiful here," She starts, nodding to the small field of flora that lines the edge of her cavern. "Oh! And taunting lingering stallions has its perks...I mean, I met you, didn't I?" She shrugs her shoulders, rolling her eyes with a mischievous smirk.
It's gets the best of us sometimes. Without it though much would go unexplained, unventured in their world. Talking of his Father was not a pleasant conversation, but she did ask. His blue eyes shift from her emerald gaze. Finding her shoulder and resting there. He reaches forward slowly, gently tracing a spot on her speckled hide. A memory revisited in his mind. He had been young then, very young. He remembers the hunk of flesh ripped from his mothers body. Crimson blood trailing down her forelimb. Pooling at her feet. Though the memory is horrific his pulse doesn't quicken, breathing remains steady. He simply brushes along her hide as if touching his mothers. "He is not kind," he says in almost a distant whisper. He retracts his lips from her skin to turn into her. Staring into the green pools that are her eyes, "No one deserves to be treated that way. He finds amusement in torturing those he loves. Killing those he doesn't."
He leaves it at that. She is quick to distract him from those memories. Flaunting her long locks and jesting him. Her smile is captivating and he can't help but stare. Running and swimming... Flowers, she lists the activities of the kingdom. He hasn't ran since the falling of his home. He took life at a leisurely pace. Swimming though was a natural attraction to him. He had been born on the beaches of Pangea and his mother found comfort in the vast waters so they had often spent their days watching the gulls. Every so often a pod of dolphins graced us with their presence. He wasn't aware that they were a small part if him. Flowers though were something he had not thought much of. As she motioned to the field of flora his gaze shifted. Noting all the hues scattered amongst the emerald. His shoulders turned to the field, facing in the same direction she was. His ebony ears swiveled as she continued, an amused tone to her voice. He can't help but grin and muse back, "Very funny, Kuma."
He motions forward towards the field, "Shall we?" He questions if she'd be his escort on such a glorious spring day.
"He finds amusement in torturing those he loves...killing those he doesn't..." Despite the words falling from his dark lips, his voice does not waver. It's almost as if he is just having a leisurely conversation, rather than speaking of the wicked stallion who raised him. Kuma tilts her head slightly - he never seemed anxious, never seemed depressed or angry...it was so curious; she couldn't help but envy him for it. What she wouldn't give for her heart not to race when she mentions the falling of her home, the loss of her family, the carnage and chaos that ensued. She shifts her head back to normal position, heart fluttering as he touches the speckled skin upon her shoulder; a welcomed surprise.
"I'm sorry about your father," She mutters quietly into his ear. "I'm glad you aren't like him..." She lips at his mane, a playful gesture to take away from the tension of the topic, before he pulls away from her. Her joke makes the ever-serious stallion grin, and her left eye closes into a teasing wink. "I know I am!" Another flip of her wavy chestnut tresses, as he asks her to guide him into the field of flowers she holds so dearly. Satellites flick forward as she nods.
"I'd love to." A soft grin pulling at the edges of her lips, as she leads him into the expanse of greenery. Springtime had illuminated the tightly closed bulbs of the lavender crocus, brought life to the ivory hydrangeas, lilies bloomed in a myriad of shapes and colors. Every so often, Kuma bent down to inhale the sweetness of their scent, sometimes the pollen would become too much, and she'd let out a child-like sneeze. She looks back at Imperial for a moment. "Aren't they beautiful?"
09-29-2017, 07:54 PM (This post was last modified: 09-29-2017, 07:56 PM by Imperial.)
If the Crown Fits
Our past should never define our future, he wants to say. But before the words escape him she is offering her condolences. Mawing at his silver tresses. Whispering kind words into his blackened ears. Chuckling as she agrees to her humor with a wink.
They move on quickly. Why dwell on the past... Her playfulness does not go unnoticed and for once in his life he feels relaxed enough to enjoy the happenings around him. She leads and he follows. Scoping out the surroundings near her cavern. A variety of flora litter the terrain in a wide variety of colors and shapes. It's weird how he's never noticed them before but he did grow up in a wasteland. She shuffles here and there smelling the sweet aromas. Icey blue eyes watch curiously as she moves from bud to bud. He smiles as she takes in another before releasing a girly sneeze. A humored laugh escapes him. As she looks to him with emerald eyes he steps forwards. She had not seen him pluck a vibrant dahlia from the land. Held between his lips he raises his muzzle to her poll. Sweeping a tangle of chestnut aside to place the flower within her flowing locks. Aren't they beautiful, she asks. His lips sliding down her neck from where he had placed the gift, "I can not say they are the only beautiful thing in the field today." His eyes find hers, removing his muzzle from her flesh. Gauging her reaction to his advancements. If he had gone too far or not far enough...
OOC: For visual sake he puts the flower in her mane not forelock(between her ears). XD
10-01-2017, 01:04 AM (This post was last modified: 10-01-2017, 01:05 AM by Kuma.)
Kuma
Her distraction is unwavering, so much so that she does not realize his plucking of the vibrant violet dahlia from its spot behind her. She is content to look at the flowers, but before long she finds herself gazing at him once more. The delicate placing of the flower beneath her chestnut tresses makes her smile warmly. Emerald eyes boring into his as she finds herself so often doing - and he calls her beautiful.
Something she has heard many times before this moment, but usually it was because of lust. Growling, sex-driven stallions only wanting her for what her body could provide. His tone, however, spoke otherwise. Mere strangers, but she felt a warm fondness for him growing deep inside her chest, and she knew he felt at least somewhat the same. She closes her eyes as he tenderly drags his maw across the length of her neck, sending a shiver down her spine - but just as quickly as the moment began, he is pulling away from her. The painted mare's jade hues open once again, and she pulls herself closer to him, trailing her cheek down his nape.
"You didn't have to stop." She says coyly, flashing another side grin. She bumps him gently with her rump, and takes to trotting ahead of him, willing him to follow her.
The changing winds of seasons are almost unnoticed as they remain in their own world. Created with lingering gazes and soft touches. Kind words and girlish giggles. He removes his muzzle from her flesh but gives nothing else in his position. The emerald gems that are her eyes open casually. Meeting the light sapphire of his gaze. You don't have to stop, she jokes as her rump nudges him. The grin on her lips tempting him to continue.
Then she strides forward, he reaches to nip at her rump. A twist of his head sends his silver locks to fall heavily. She is quick to lunge forwards and for a moment he is blinded by the impenetrable forelock hanging over his eyes. A quick flick upwards of his muzzle returns his vision. The multi-patterned flicka has all but disappeared from his sights. Stopping his forward motion, his black ears twist forwards. Eyes wide in wonder at where she had gone so quickly. Nostrils flare to capture her sent wafting from the southern forest border.
He's quickly leaps forwards. Keeping his nose towards the scent of the mare. The field of flora and cavern behind him now as he crosses into the shadows of the dense autumnal forests. An uneasy feeling overcomes him as the daunting scent of another also lingers here. It's presence more purposeful. A warning. He calls out to her as he weaves between the pillars of trees, "Kuma... Kumaaaa... Where are you?"
