at the ready [Gale]

[Jesla]

An arctic gust lifts her inky dreads off of her refined nape. Not even late Spring could soften the harshness of the Isle. Jesla stands atop a barren knoll. Her jagged hooves leave no impression in the permafrost, though the film of soot is disturbed. She shifts her weight restlessly, as if impatiently waiting for the arrival of, well, anyone. Someone. Jesla yearns for more than the life she leads. She has grown bored of the quiet shufflings and cold nights. Her father had ventured beyond the protection of the icy waters. He spoke cautiously of the mainland. She has been content to heed his warning, until now. A curiosity sparks in her mint green gaze and her trademark, bronze-tipped lobes point towards the northern corner of Nerine. All she has to do is swim; swim through freezing cold, thick with chunks of ice, water. None of that sounded appealing. Not even for the promise that awaits her on the other side.

The appaloosa, with the mint-spotted blanket upon her rump, continues to watch the shoreline of her birthplace. Perhaps, she can muster the appearance of someone just by envisioning him, or her. Her mint gaze focuses, steadily, upon the welcome mat for the Isle. Occasionally, her bright orbs glance up to the sky, just in case an arrival is made upon a pair of wings. Jesla surmises that, if she had wings, she would be long gone. What else would prevent her from leaving the nest? Leilan had things under control. Jesper is home, safe and sound (not that she can really prevent him from wandering off). Her musings halt as the flutter of white wings catch her eye. She stands, enamored by the grace and power of the appendages. Unsure if all of her waiting is finally paying off, Jesla watches as, what she can only hope is, the magnificence unfolds before her.

@[Gale]

[Gale]

Gale run away with me-- lost souls and reverie running wild and running free   The air changes somewhere between Tephra and Taiga. Gale is not certain of his exact location (having never been this far north before) but he is certain that he is headed the right way. The warm spring air of his near-tropic home grows cooler, then colder. By the time he lands on the southern tip of the Icicle Isle, Gale is beginning to wish he had never lost his winter coat. (In truth, he cannot even remember the last time he had grown one – had it been as a child, in Loess?). The name is fitting, he supposes. Overhead, a faint cry is Erne’s agreement, and Gale resist the temptation to cast his blue eyes upward to where he knows the osprey circles. Erne sends his intention to hunt for ‘cold fish that don’t know how to keep watch for a true hunter’, leaving Gale alone to face the frozen island – and its inhabitants. He looks around, his bright eyes curious. There is snow here, even in the spring, but with it too is the smell of old ash. He had heard of the burning of the Isle, but he had naively assumed it to be a story of the long-ago past. Then he turns around, and finds a stranger standing very close. “Oh sorry!” He exclaims, stumbling backwards in his haste to put space between them. “Totally didn’t even see you there. I was just, uh, looking for a place to land, I guess?” Gale very much hopes she’ll admit to a power like invisibility or teleporting to explain her sudden appearance behind him. If it were to be his own lack of attention…The brindle stallion coughs, and shakes his horned head a few times. “So…I’m Gale. What’s your name?” @[Jesla]

[Jesla]

There is little sun today as smoky grey clouds extend across the sky. Even in the indirect light, Gale's white feathers are a blinding hue. Jesla watches as his wings gracefully guide the pegasus to land. Her gaze flits a moment to the second creature with wings; however, her interest quickly returns to the visitor when the bird flies out of view. The mint-spotted appaloosa does her best to not seem high-strung despite her excitement. She lowers her poll from its on-guard post, her bronze-tipped lobes remain pricked, and her mint green gaze is bright. Her body language is soft as she eyes him with curiosity. Jesla smiles softly as he apologizes and frantically backs away.

"There is no need to apologize. I am hypervigilant these days. I saw you coming and wanted to be the first face you met. I didn't mean to startle you." Jesla does not make any attempt to add distance between them. Perhaps, being isolated on the Isle leads to inappropriate behavior when socializing? So far, she is zero for two with first impressions: crowding the guest and letting her mouth run away with her. The appy reminds herself that her father taught her much of what she knows. She sighs, and settles into a less excited stance. She wants him to stick around, after all. There is no need to scare him off with her overbearing-ness.

Jesla catches his name. Gale. She sounds it out a few times before realizing he had inquired about hers. Reminding herself not to get too carried away, Jesla addresses him. "I am Jesla. Where do you call home, Gale?" Her sensitive olfactories detect traces of damp sand, salt, and lush, tropical flora. His pelt is sleek and shiny, further evidence of living someplace warm. Gale sports a dark blue color with interesting cream stripes across his neck and barrel. (If Jesla had met more Beqannians, she may recognize that those stripes are family trademark, having met Gale's mother briefly. As it were, she does not make the connection, and simply observes them to be a fairly common marking.) His mane is stark white, like his wings, and stands straight up, following his spine all the way from poll to tail. His locks blend into his tail smoothly, which is also pure white. Below his ears, stem two, small, tightly curled horns. In contrast, Jesla is much more plain. Her pelt is winterized and, solid black, except for the white blanket, with mint dots, over her croup. The tips of her ears are bronze, as well. She has no horns, wings or, iridescent shine by drab comparison.

@[Gale]
@[Pothos]

[Gale]

Gale run away with me-- lost souls and reverie running wild and running free   His first impression of the green-eyed mare is softness, though after a moment he cannot quite decide why that might have been. Her smile is bright and curious despite Gale’s faux pas, and he feels a matching grin of his own begin to grow in response. She is quick to assure him he has no reason to apologize, and those he disagrees with that, his ears prick forward with interest at what else she has to say. She’d seen him coming? Gale is not often seen when he does not know about it, and he pushes away the desire to disappear. Though the brindle stallion had not inherited the same kind of invisibility as his sire and siblings, he and his twin had inherited a different capacity with which to shield themselves. (There are other things he might do with his vision manipulation, of course, but he does not often practice many of them.) He is about to ask where she’d spotted him when her demeanor changes. The appaloosa sighs, and settles more firmly, no longer radiating the excitement of moments earlier. Gale, who had been enthused by her greeting, worries that perhaps it is something that he had done. But before he can ask, she introduces herself – Jesla – and asks about his home. “I’m from Islandres”, he answers. “I’m the Chief of Islandres, actually, not that you couldn’t tell from my graceful manners.” He smiles, some chagrin in the expression but mostly a good-natured ability to laugh at his own folly. “I came to do some diplomatic stuff, I guess. You wouldn’t happen to know how any of that works, would you?” Gale’s electric blue gaze is hopeful. Perhaps Jesla, who had wanted to be the first face he saw on the Isle, was someone who might help him with this. @[Jesla]

[Pothos]

There were many perks to having wings. The best one being that exploration was not limited to just land. Pothos took full advantage of his abilities when exploring. Two sets of wings sprouted from his back. The green-pink feathers unfurled and stretched across the sky. They doubled the size of the stallion. In a hummingbird-like pace they began to rhythmically pull him through the sky. As he climbed to greater altitudes the temperature began to change. The sweat that glistened like glitter along his back grew cold against his coat. Pothos sighed dramatically. He watched the thick, cloudy air puff from his mouth before an often unused trait built a barrier of ice armor atop his chest and hindquarters. Pothos knew as he flew north that the weather would only grow more cold, and though ice rain through his family's vein he preferred to avoid it and cuddle in the warmth of love. The thundering clap of his wings began to slow as Pothos dropped from the clouds at the site of land. The chill from the flight felt like it had burrowed a hole through his chest despite the armor barrier. He shivered as his eyes began to focus on two forms still tiny from a distance. Immediately the mere hope of warmth brightened his eyes. The extra set of wings faded away, and Pothos concentrated on shrinking his form to a less noticeable size. He couldn’t alter his appearance completely, but he could shrink to that of a hour-old foal. Pothos looked quite silly with disproportionately long legs and a mostly bald head. Luckily he strongly believed that no one would see him as he took a wide berth around the two horses. He landed quietly in a beach cove and crept through the brush. Once within earshot his tiny legs awkwardly folded beneath him, and he settled in for eavesdropping. It didn’t take long for Pothos to begin to feel pity. There were two perfectly suitable, young horses standing before each other. What was taking them so long to declare their love. Even though Pothos had only altered his age, his patience had seemed to minituraize as well. Well clearly fate had brought him to this very place to help this fateful meeting along. With a mere lick of his lips and narrowing of his eyes a tiny bow appeared before him. It was strung up with an intricate pink arrow tipped with a heart. One….two….three…..Pothos exhaled. The bolt flung speedily through the air before piercing the speckled mare right in her rump and fading away in a glittery *poof*. ”Perfect” Pothos whispered with a mischievous grin. That should do it. Cupids work was done. He quietly slunk back deeper in the brush. Pothos would check up on them later, but for now he best not risk getting caught.

@[Jesla] has been hit with a love-arrow. The next horse she sees she will fall deeply in love with for *however long you’d like* Have fun! Sorry for the late post! If @[Gale] wanted to get hit too then just pretend Pothos shot off two arrows

[Jesla]

Jesla stands comfortably before Gale. Her excited energy is channeled into listening, closely, to his reply. Islandres? Where was that in Beqanna? He is chief?! Oh, he wants to know about the Isle. That is boring! Jesla is half inclined to tell him her thoughts on his request but, instead, she remembers her diplomacy training. Her mint gaze searches his face and, just as she is about to respond, she is struck.

Not physically struck. At least not that she could tell. Gale is standing in the same spot. No one else is around. There are no chunks of ice, tree branches, rocks, or other debris around either.

Jesla is struck by an enveloping wave of warmth. A warmth that emanates from her heart, fills her chest, and then, extends along the ventral surface of her neck and barrel until it floods all of her. She feels flush. She feels a renewed pulse course through every sinewy fiber, as if she is waking from a very deep slumber. The daylight around her seems more yellow in hue; warmer, even if the clouds have not cleared. The Spring breeze feels milder as it brushes across her pelt. The water, off of the coast, seems a brighter blue, as opposed to the navy-black it usually seemed. The energy is invigorating and, just as quickly as she had settled, the spotted mare shifts her weight. She locks her gaze upon the navy blue and perlino pegasus. There is a sparkle in her light green eyes and a warm smile on her dark lips. With confidence, she steps closer to the stud. She lifts her poll and arches her neck as her soft muzzle extends to ever-so-gently, bump his. When she speaks, her voice is warm and alluring. "I apologize if my manners seem less cordial or, are, in any way, inappropriate for a chief. After the attack on the Isle, I have kept a very close watch on the coast and the skies."

Jesla pauses briefly to allow a warm breath to exhale upon his whiskers. The sensation would hopefully distract the male. She retracts her muzzle, perhaps, leaving him wanting more, and addresses his business query. "I was born here so, I know the Isle well. Of course, so does Leilan. He is our Freyr. There is also Sabrina, the second-in-command. Icicle Isle residents are pretty independent so, there is not much in the way of inner workings of diplomacy. We can seek our leaders for advice, but this rugged domain requires you to be resourceful and self-sufficient."

The blanket appy steps forward again, a curious brightness to her gaze. Her body language is relaxed, supple and, subconsciously, seductive. She searches Gale's features in hope that they will provide answers to her longing; however, finding none, she decides to ask him. "Honestly, Gale, I have longed to venture off of this spit of ice. I would love to see more of the world. Until now, I have not had the courage to do it. Would you allow me to accompany you back to your home? I am so curious as to what else is out there and, I feel as though I can trust you. Will you be my escort?" Jesla knows that Gale is her ticket out of here. The question is, does Gale feel mutual about all of this?
@[Gale]

[Gale]

Gale run away with me-- lost souls and reverie running wild and running free Jesla meets his gaze squarely, and Gale finds himself doing the same. Her eyes are pale and green, and remind him – quite suddenly – of Divest. He had not thought of the green and silver mare in such a long time, and now her face flashes before his eyes. Just as he’d last seen her, before her farewells. The image of her fades as Jesla steps forward, her muzzle brushing against his in a way that Eyas had informed him is too intimate for a diplomatic meeting. But Gale is comfortable with physical touch, and he is elated to find that Eyas had been mistaken. When she speaks again, there is a warmth in her tone that he hadn’t heard before, and Jesla remains quite near, each of her words a warm exhale against Gale’s wind-chilled cheeks. She sounds a bit more formal now, and it seems that Eyas had been right about that much – some things do require a certain amount of decorum. She speaks of the attack on the Isle, and Gale nearly asks avout it, but is distracted by the quick way she steps back. Accstomed to the warmth, and amused by both the similarities and largest difference in his home and this place, Gale steps forward with a soft laugh. Though he had missed the dart of Pothos’ arrow, he finds Jesla both charming and easy on the eyes. There is something almost like excitement rising in his chest. Like excitement, but different somehow. Better, in some ways, he thinks. The emotion had been a warm glow in his chest, sparking when she cuts the space between them again, and then rising like a flame at the unexpected request to escort her off the island. This is most definitely not the diplomatic mission he had planned on when he had flown north this morning. It is definitely more exciting though, and Gale’s adventurous heart finds it impossible to resist. “It would be my pleasure.” He replies, winking conspiratorially. “The Isle sounds a lot like Islandres in terms of government,” he says with a wry smile, “Except without the struggling, and with a lot more sunshine and starfruits. Maybe you’d like to see it?” @[Jesla]

[Jesla]

The appy feels relief when @[Gale] does not shy away from her touch. She does not fully understand this new wave of emotion. She does know that she wants to be around Gale; near him and with him. She wants to get to know him. She wants to know everything about him, and yet, knowing him will not matter because it will not alter this strong desire. Her steps away, though made to look diplomatic, are a result of uncertainty that this is real. Jesla second guesses the male's interest. Any doubt soon melts away as the navy blue pegasus steps into her touch. Their muzzles press into one another and, Jesla feels the warmth of his breath upon her jawline. She utters a soft sigh and leans into his embrace. In her mind, Gale's actions affirm that he wants this, too, and Jesla is both ecstatic and relieved. She discovers a new sense of strength in knowing that their energies sync so easily. He feeds off of her vibrance, and she is invigorated by his interest. She steps closer to the brindle stud until her whiskered plush brushes his cheek. Her gaze meets his with honesty and affection; her light green irises a warmer, brighter shade of mint.

She listens as Gale agrees to escort her off the Isle. His description of "sunshine and starfruits" is enough to charm her. Jesla finds her eyes closing as she imagines the warm sun upon her back and Gale by her side. She leans into him even further before realizing that he has invited her to see it. She opens her gaze, slowly so that her long-lashes linger, and finds his bright blues, again. Her voice is so soft that her words escape at a volume just above a whisper. "Oh yes, Gale! Please take me to Islandres."

[Gale]

Gale run away with me-- lost souls and reverie running wild and running free When Jesla had requested his escort away from Icicle Isle, Gale had thought that perhaps Islandres would be the first of many destinations in the spotted mare’s travels. She wanted to see more of the world, she’d said, to stand somewhere other than on the cold land of this frozen kingdom. Gale couldn’t blame her, not shivering as he was even in the fall Yet as she leans closer, she’s looking at him the way that Eyas looks at the overo unicorn that Gale had accidentally discovered in her memories. There’s something about it that makes Gale’s chest feel light, as though a small sun rests just below his ribs. It’s a pleasant feeling, and Gale nods agreeably. He glances out at the first barrier, the cold water that has trapped Jesla. He can’t exactly make it easier for her to swim, but he can at least point out the shallower places in the sea, where the same hard granite that holds up Nerine juts out of the grey water. She can rest on them, and ensure that she is not entirely exhausted by the time they reach Nerine. They’d still have a distance to walk after that, Gale thinks. Though he most often prefers the haste of his wings, the lands through which the pair must travel to reach Islandres are lands Gale has not visited before. The prospect of some unexpected travel and sightseeing is exciting, and Gale is certain that the quiet population of his island home will fare perfectly well in his absence. Gale explains to Jesla his plan about swimming to the rocky outcroppings, suggesting to her that he will fly overhead to guide her. If she had a better method of travel across the sea he is willing to hear it, but Gale doubts she would have remained so long on Icicle Isle if she were able to leave easily. “Are you ready?” He asks with a smile, stretching out his wing to brush against her shoulder. Gale has entirely forgotten his original purpose in coming here to the frozen northern kingdom, and he realizes that only now. Well, he ponders, he can always come back later. Perhaps in a week or so, before the worst of the cold comes in. @[Jesla]