"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
Nymf's wings spread out beside her, their cream and coppered span breathtakingly impressive against the gray blue of the sky. Below her the frigid landscape of Beqanns sprawled out as far as the eye could see, draped in the dull colors of autumn. It wasn't often that the copper tipped mare remained so long outside of Nerine. Winter's imminent arrival would soon see her safely returned home, the unpredictable weather of winter making travel not advisable. This time, however, she found herself farther from the beaches than normal.
Below her a vast field stretched itself as far as her sight could reach. Fatigued from her flight the temptation of summer's last remnants of grass drew her her downward. Tucking her wings against her sides her legs braced for impact, landing with a gentle and effortless thud. All around her the musky scent of fallen leaves and bark accosted her senses. Glancing around, she found that she was nearly alone - except for one other. Not too far in the distance a lavender tinted mare stood alone...
In Kylin’s opinion, the rich colors of the autumn are everything but dull. It’s unlike anything she has seen before, well, except for her trip to Sylva together with Ivar. He had shown her his childhood home, the home they had imagined exploring but for which they never got a chance before his family moved away. The lavender lady had been more than thrilled to explore the lands, now, together as adults, with almost childish enthusiasm.
It is a given that she prefers Ischia above all other lands, but having seen what Autumn is like in Sylva, she wants to more of the season. Upon on entering Beqanna’s main land the temperature had dropped significantly, but not yet enough to make her feel cold. Her coat is still damp from her swim, and her transparent fins tighten around her body in an attempt to block the breeze.
The field, like Sylva’s forest, looks vastly different in autumn. The grass had discoloured from lush green to a yellowish golden color, but in different shades everywhere she looks, and the trees in the distance show the most wonderful red and yellow and orange colors, with some lost green ones in between. Kylin is so engrossed in the sight that she does not notice the arrival of a pale cremello and copper colored woman.
07-06-2018, 10:33 AM (This post was last modified: 07-06-2018, 10:35 AM by Nymf.)
The cold fingers of autumn had bred a restlessness within her, an intense gnawing that tore at her middle with a heat too powerful to ignore. Despite her previous contentment she had found herself searching though, for what exactly she was unsure. She knows who her eyes longed to spot, but she had not allowed herself to imagine beyond that initial sighting. Emptiness consumed her as her gaze searched hungrily for the sight of him only to fall short of her desires.
The winged mare, standing alone upon the crest of a hill, she too seemed to be searching for something. Uncharacteristically confident, Nymf stepped forward longing to feel the distracting warmth of companionship. Salt and sea clung heavily to the stranger’s coat, but she was not of Nerine. Nymf would surely remember one as vibrant as she. No, the copper tipped mare suspected Ischia to be he place she called home. Nerine’s brother in arms and an ally. Relieved to be in the company of a friend she drew up beside the mare.
“I apologize for the intrusion,” she began hesitantly, only just realizing the forwardness of her forced friendliness. “But I was curious if you’ve happened upon my friend. A palomino stallion with blue streaks in his otherwise white mane. He goes by the name of Svedka.”
The soft crackle of dry grass getting crushed underneath two pairs of hooves are her only ‘warning’ of the winged mare’s approach. First her lavender ears turn in the stranger’s direction, and her hazel eyes tear themselves away from the scenery with some effort soon after. Kylin studies the crème and copper mare, her head slightly tilting to the side. “Hello” she greets the mare back in the brief pause, shaking her head slightly at the apology.
Kylin never gets the chance to tell the stranger it is okay, that she does not mind the intrusion, as the description of a familiar equine is brought up. “Svedka?” she asks, her hazel eyes now curious. Nevertheless, she shakes her head, and has to offer an apologetic smile. “No, I’m sorry.. I haven’t seen him around here. Haven’t seen him since he came to visit Ischia..”
By extending her neck she reaches out to the crème and copper Pegasus, offering her own muzzle to exchange scents. Having Svedka as their mutual friend, she hopes the mare does not mind the close proximity. Kylin prefers it, liking it to have others around, and she has to admit being alone in the field had been rather lonely. “My name is Kylin, who are you? Are you from Hyaline too?”
The creeping of embarrassment spread across the pale curve of her cheek as she only just realized the forcefulness of her actions. Standing only slightly shorter that the pastel woman, Nymf exhaled softly – her breath creating a hot cloud that quickly disappeared before her eyes. The two mares were nearly alone within the embrace of the seemingly endless expanse of grass of weeds, not another soul to be seen as far as her eyes could stretch. Beginning to feel helpless, Nymf considered abandoning her quest altogether.
Familiarity loomed upon the waves of Kylin’s voice as she spoke and Nymf’s interest grew as she quickly came to realize that she knew of Svedka. She felt no jealousy towards her however, a fact that aided in her questioning the motivation behind her absurd search.
There were many lands that the copper and cream mare had yet to visit, Hyaline being one that held the most interest. She had not known that was where Svedka called home, further proving how little she actually knew of the one she sought. Lowering her gaze she smiled sheepishly, hoping that she did not appear as foolish as she felt.
“I do apologize for my forwardness,” she offered with a wavering smile. “My name is Nymf, I come from Nerine. It is nice to meet you, sister.”
As silence feels the space between them, Kylin cannot help it but to tilt her head and study the pale golden mare in front of her. Hearing Svedka’s description and name coming from her lips, she cannot help it but to feel curious. Who is this woman, and what is she to Svedka? And from there, what is Kylin herself to Svedka?
Her pondering is broken as the mare apologizes. With a smile she shakes her head, again offering her nose to exchange scents. “The pleasure is all mine, but I am no sister of the Brotherhood, even though I call Ischia home.” she tells Nymf, glancing away for a moment. Brennen graciously had allowed her to stay, and Kylin was willing to contribute, but her loyalty was tied to Ischia, and not the Brotherhood. That she had never made a secret of.
“What is Nerine like?” Being one of the lands Kylin hadn’t had the pleasure of discovering herself, she cannot help it but to be curious. She knows Ischia, Hyaline, Loess, and most recently she had visited Sylva together with Ivar. But Nerine, just like Tephra and Taiga, are undiscovered territory to the lavender and white mare.
Nerine was beckoning. She could hear its call ridden upon the wind, scraping against her skin like the talons of a feathered fiend. She did not welcome it. Her skin tightened and crawled as the thought of returning sparked new anxieties. In her time living there, the coastal kingdom had shifted from one hand to the other, now Breckin ruled and Nymf's uncertainty of her belonging continued to grow. Svedka had been the pull she'd needed to leave the safety of her borders. There was much she needed to discuss with him, even though her belly churned at the idea. Kylin's curious gaze upon her only resparked the cremello's insecurity and embarrassment began to creep it's way up her face.
When the lavender mare spoke, she seemed to have a good comprehension of Nymf's feelings. She recalled Ischia with a sort of formality that Nymf related to. Not quite belonging, but finding yourself completely unable to depart from the only home she'd known. Nerine had been the first kingdom Nymf had visiting. Saved from the brink of the abyss by Vulcan, her gratitude had disabled her from leaving. But she had never felt trapped.
"Nerine is unseasonably warm," she informed with the flit of a smile. "There are many cliffs that overlook the ocean, and the grass there is almost always brown and coarse...but the horses there have always been genuine and kind. Loyal."
The ocean, Nymf assumed, was not an uncommon feature for Kylin. Ischia was an island, one that the winged mare had never been able to visit. There were many times she had thought it would have been nice to, at least once.
"And what of Ischia?" She inquired with sudden interest ignited. "I must admit, I have never had the pleasure of seeing the island for myself..."
