[open] Too Good At Goodbyes || Any

[Mosrael]

The crowd had parted, and the field stood empty once more. Standing at the center of where the goddess’ arena had been, Mosrael gazed about herself amazed by all that had been accomplished there. Alone she had watched as every last remnant of the event vanished in a flash. In the wake of such a massive host, the land had been left scarred. Grass lay flat with patches of dirt breaking through sporadically. Like herself, horses had arrived in droves for a chance to lay eyes upon the golden goddess herself. Some had stepped forward to meet her challenge while others had watched from the sidelines.
 
She trembled at the memory of the challenge presented to her by Nike. Bravery. It felt like such a simple concept and, yet, Mosrael had learned things about herself that she would have preferred to keep buried. She was glad that her father had not been watching from the sidelines.
 
Death was unavoidable. Death was the finale to a life well lived – and, yet, she feared it. She was ashamed of her weakness and her transparency. And for what? Third place? She scoffed. It was not good enough. Her mission had been to prove her bravery so that she could return with her head held high and new golden markings to prove her success. Instead she would arrive with a silver that she had not earned. In his kindness her brother had switched her bronze with his silver, proving once again to be the victor among them. Agitated she flicked her newly donned silver tail.
 
Glimmering in the warm sunlight, she took a moment to appreciate the gifts bestowed upon her. Her silver tail, faded almost seamlessly from the white blanket upon her back and, standing out against her other variously shaped purple spots, an eagle sat proudly with wings outstretched. A symbol of the hidden abilities deep within her. She was proud to bear the mark and hoped that, if nothing else, her father would look upon it with pride.
 
Glancing once more up towards the mountain top, she turned toward the path that she knew would eventually lead to Ischia. Her home. Waiting for her she had her siblings, all of which were, undoubtedly waiting to hear the story of her Olympic experience. If nothing else, at least she knew they would be impressed. Her mother too, would be very proud of her.
 
The sea was calling to her and she longed to return to it’s shores.

[Lavendel]

Lamb knew the longing in the woman's eyes before she even knew her name. She knew the pain that disappointment brought on, that loss brought on. It is in the warm hues of the painted mare's eyes that Lavendel finds herself and so she approaches quietly, the soft fall of her hooves mixing eagerly with the sounds of midday. Her pale eyes only roamed over the mare once, catching the splotches of purple only quickly. It brought a homliness to the stranger, and it made the woman smile.

"Hello,"
She offers quietly, coming to a stop not far from where the woman was gazing. It was a path well worn into the field, the quiet 'hello' an often used line she hoped wouldnt make the silver tailed woman bored. Lamb had never been good at this.

"I am Lamb, you are?"
She didnt use that name anymore. What was she doing? No. It was okay. She spoke it for a reason, she wanted the woman to like her. She wanted to be her friend and to have a friend she could be close to. By the looks of the spotted woman, she was sure this could work.

"Perhaps you wouldnt mind if I joined you today?" Her voice is tinged with a musical tone, the light in her eyes sparkling with opportunities.

(( This rambles im so sorry D: ))

[Kagerus]

At least she had won. At least she had something to show for her vulnerability. Me? All I have is a swollen belly that threatens to spill its content and take my life as it does, a terror in my throat and in my lungs and in my mind that pervades all else. But in truth, no prize would make up for this. No gold streaks will ever make me proud. I love my family and they love me for who I am - it's not about pride - it's not about winning - it's just about us.

And in my absence, us should be expanded to fill my place.

I recognize her from the tournament. Besides the silver tail, I recognize her as the girl who spoke death as her biggest fear. And I suppose that had been my fear, too, in a simple kind of way. My hooves are carrying me over a path that leads to Ischia as I'm on my way back to Hyaline from the river when I spot her, bay coat, purple spots. My course changes.

"Mosrael, right?" There's another mare here, Lamb, and I glance to her. "I'm Kagerus, from the games." The child inside me kicks, and I grimace, ducking my head for a moment before returning my pointed gaze to the appaloosa mare.

"I couldn't help but think you'd fit in well in Hyaline. That's where I'm from. Where I'll... Have been from, someday soon."

[Mosrael]

Mosrael

i'm way too
good at goodbyes

The field slowly began to fade away behind her as she walked. The journey ahead of her wasn’t particularly long and, yet, she smiled to think that her brother could circle the entirety of Ischia twice before she finally stumbled upon it’s shores. As a filly, she’d often marveled at her father’s gift of flight and, later, tackled her feelings of jealousy to see her younger brother be born winged. Only a year apart she’d always had a close bond with Belgaer and she admired him immensely.

As distracted as she was, movement from behind her drew her attention as a painted mare confidently approached. Unsurprised, though she was, Mosrael halted and angled herself in preparation to greet the white framed palomino. The flaxen mare spoke with an easy familiarity that encouraged a smile to emerge from Mos’ disappointed demeanor.

”My name is Mosrael,” she offered when her identity was inquired upon. ”Daughter to Brennen and Galilee, a daughter of Ischia.”

Perhaps the mare knew of her parents and, thus, knew of her? Brennen was a well-known warrior throughout Beqanna and she was hardly surprised anymore when she was approached by strangers wishing to know his children. Lamb’s eyes danced with expectation as she requested to join the purple spotted appaloosa on her journey home.

”Ischia is always welcoming of visitors,” she said with a smile. ”I -,” her words died in her mouth as the sudden approach of another interrupted her thoughts. She recognized the mare easily, having been a participant in the same event as Mosrael. Kagerus.

A knot formed at the base of her throat as her eyes flitted briefly over the mare’s swollen belly. She was with child and, by her own admission, would not live long enough to lay eyes upon the babe she carried. There were no words she could offer the mare in response to her offer. To go to Hyaline instead of home – the offer was almost tempting. Rather than respond, however, she stood there, unable to piece together a coherent response.

@[Kagerus] and @[Lavendel] , it's up to her to break the awkward silence.

[Ilma]

-putting this in winter just after the BQ games to fit within timelines if you guys don’t mind-

Lingering on the field after the Games, Ilma found she was not the only one who needed some time to process what had happened. Not in the first place the revelation of Kagerus’ pregnancy and her own certaincy, profecu as it were, that she would never see the day after her child was born. It was off-putting, to Ilma, who only suspected her own pregnancy by the time the Games had started, and who was not yet ready to say goodbye to her newfound friend; she was the first horse she had talked to in Beqanna, who had brought her to her home to either just stay a few days or make it her own, whichever Ilma would please.

Mesmerizing didn’t do her much good however, but as she had decided to talk to Kagerus about it later, she just looked up to see the spotted bay talk to two others. One, she recognized from the Games but hadn’t recalled her name honestly; the other was the Sylvan girl, Lamb. Ilma smiled, stepping towards the small gathering . ”Lamb! Kagerus! Good to see you both here.” she greeted then. The white mare then focused on the third, and gave her a warm smile. She seemed in doubt about something, so maybe a distraction would be welcome. ”I’m Ilma. I don’t think I recall your name, but I saw you in the Games. You did well.” she greeted her, too. Happy to dissolve an ill-timed silence.