"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
04-24-2016, 11:30 PM (This post was last modified: 04-25-2016, 12:29 PM by Besra.)
A kiss is not a contract
She tries her best to keep up, she really does. Her legs extend, regular footfalls exaggerated so that the black will not have to wait for her. “Phaedrus,” She reminds herself, “His name is Phaedrus.” She won’t think too much on the fact that in some small way, he owns her now. His actions will directly influence her life, perhaps someday even going as far as raising a foal of his lines. But she won’t think on those things - not now, not at the beginning. First and foremost, there should be trust. Without trust, everything else falls short. The roan mare huffs, eager to keep the clipped pace and hoping that he’s not missing the ability of his wings too much.
“Both of my parents are capable of flight.” She tells him on the offhand. They know nothing of each other, short of names or destinations. A bond begins somewhere and Besra is unafraid to share her background with the (thus far) silent stallion. “Shifters. My sire is a falcon and my dam is a bluebird.” She details, laughing softly. “They make quite a good pair.” Of course they do, they always have. Besra remembers when she had first arrived in Heaven’s Gates and Zeik had come to join them; he’d shifted and Felinae had followed suit, the two of them twisting in aerial delight and acrobatic prowess. Besra had been wordlessly jealous of the carefree nature of their companionship.
She tapers off, letting the memory consume her for a moment while they trek through the endless sea of grassland. This is the farthest south the blue-kissed girl has been, every step ahead is a first for her. She smiles, softly, the unknown spread open before her. So many questions, so little time. The only one that escapes though is something of little consequence to her, but still a question she’s never before thought to ask. “What’s it like, to fly?” She muses to him aloud, head turning so that she can stare at Phaedrus with wide, curious eyes. His homeland should be just ahead but for now, she has him all to herself and this is a final moment she’d also like to tuck away for later.
OOC: Please let Phaedrus reply first, and then feel free to join in! :3
He can't help but respect and commend her for her attempt at keeping up. Even as he tries to slow his pace for her, she is a tiny little thing completely engolfed by his size, and to top that off the gates was far more closer to the feild then the Dale and its herd lands would ever be.
She still had him mesmerized, her paleness agianst his blackness, her openness to his broodiness. They couldn't be more opposite except for one thing. She was dreamily peaceful. There was a calm air about her, one that drove him to explore. Then she mentions her parents and he nods to her slightly recognizing the name. Something foggy, something just out of reach. Something that wanted to stay buried. I grew up with my aunt in the Desserts. He licked his lips shutting them, why did he go and say that? He couldn't help but scowl at the earth infront of him.
Then she wonders at something, something that would change the topic. Something that he could answer for her. How would you like to find out? His grin is impish, Now promise me you wont freak Slowly his muscles turned to jelly, his bones liquidating into something unnaturally stretchy. He melds himself to her frame inching up her barrel until his body is wound around it in a thick band that safely secured her spreading wide from shoulder to hip. His head and neck along side hers completely and totally normal size grin at her through dark blue forelock. Two enormous wings spread at her sides Run He whispers the word in her ear.
Oh he could be mischevious alright, could show her a world she had never known. Seeing their faces as they enjoyed the thrill of the ariel travel gave him all the enjoyment he needed. Each look, each aw enspired gasp would be all that he would need. But he waits, waits until she takes that first lunge to spread the wings that would launch them into the air.
So he wasn’t fully Dalean, was he? She’d sensed that there was more to the big guy than just a ‘hello’ and that herd mentality. Try as he might, Phaedrus is drawn into her little conversation and when his bit of history slips out, Besra quirks her lips in response. “Don’t worry, your secret's safe with me.” She tells him, noticing the brief scowl that flashed across his lips. She wonders if there’s more to the story than he’s letting on; she also wonders if he's simply just unused to talking with mares like .. this. Casually, no pressure for affection or acceptance.
Besra herself isn’t the over affectionate type anyways. Of course, that wasn’t to say that feelings wouldn’t come over time, only that those feelings would be less aggressive, more along the lines of respect than actual admiration. That being said, she doesn’t expect Phaedrus to pretend to croon over her like some sick puppy when it was clear to her that emotions such as love or romance simply did not suit him. She liked this Phaedrus: quiet, brooding thing that he was. Which is why, when his grin reaches her eyes and his tendril-like appendages wrap around her still body, she can’t help but let her eyes widen in shock.
He’d been holding out, it seems. It feels … odd to have him wrapped around her like this, but she doesn’t shy away from the touch. Her curiosity is driven wildly out of control and the dark wings folded to either side of her body has her usually steady heart leaping against her chest with anticipation. “Run…” He whispers, but Besra didn’t even need the command. The grey-flecked mare leaps high, bucking out with impish excitement before she lands and shoots away across the Golden Plains.
“Take me as high as you can!” She dares him, wild laugh echoing over the quiet sea of grass. If there was any question as to her arrival, now it would be a certain thing. Her thundering gallop flushes all manners of quail and fowl alike, each one taking to the air as Besra soon would. With her head flung back and her bright blue mane tangling with his dark one, they seem like an odd creature - but she doesn’t care. Phaedrus’ gift of flight to her means more than all the confused stares in the world.
She notices, and it startles him. He softens his features looking to her for a moment only to find himself debating the most random things in his mind. Debating why he is debating, why he doesn’t just settle in and make the trip easier on her by conversing. Yet through it all his maw stays closed, and the only raw sounds to be heard from him is those that come with breathing. She is relaxing to be around in her own way. Lately he’s been around so many high-strung mares that he can’t help but wonder when her explosion will happen. It never does, and slowly he eases into the rhythm of… of… them. Held a sort of satisfying ring to it. No doubt most wouldn’t understand what he meant by that word.
Them, the togetherness and the quiet ways that had him settling into a comfortable monotony that kept pace with his usual silence. It was only his walks alone that this sort of daydreaming occurs for him, yet here he is in the presence of another, a female no less daydreaming and relaxing along the quiet trail. Occasional conversation just enough to keep the world around them spiced up. Getting to know Bersa would prove to be a very intriguing venture. If only the big dude knew just why they clicked so. Being half uncle to her would help with the connection no doubt.
Finally she asks something that he can help with, and it’s a wicked grin that flashes through his face with the idea that forms. Flat, wide, and snug he wraps around feeling his heart quicken slightly. The rush just before flight, and in his eagerness whispers something to her just as she does so. The wings on either side of her/him. The morphed creature that they became together and she takes off. He senses his eagerness feeding from hers, his heart racing to match her pace. Each thunder of hooves bringing them closer to airborne. Finally his wings spread and one swoop of the enormous propellers set them sailing from the ground. His wings beat against the air, and she squeals, asking for more, higher, farther. Turning his head slightly he nips at the underside of her face gently, affectionately. Scooping the wind with his wings the rush of air could be heard around them. Almost as if a rug was methodically being beaten near his ears. His mane lashing and tangling with hers, dark against light, light in dark, his tail mixing and melding to be one with hers streaming behind them. As light as she is, he is dark. But in this she would know the feelings that come with flight. The addiction to the rush. They reach the low hanging clouds and he nips at one with a chuckle. Now you know what it is to fly. leaving his wings spread he doesn’t work them quite so much anymore. Instead letting them float there suspended by nothing. Nudging her again he circles above the golden plains. That’s our home there, and that’s the Dale over there. He can’t help a another grin. If there was any place that he could be care free it was here.
She has no knowledge of their interconnected lineage. Felinae had never been one to speak on the past, and Zeik had been feral since the day he left his dam’s side. Wasn’t that the way some families went? The past forgotten, while the future consumes the living. If she had known, she wouldn’t have thought much of it. Beqanna shares stranger things than crossing bloodlines. If it was one of the reasons they seemed to get along, then so be it. All Besra knows is that up here - where the sky touches her skin and the sun blinds her - is where she’s meant to be. If only the gods had been more kind …
Then again, perhaps they have been good to her. She remembers that Phaedrus is wrapped around her when his teeth brush against the underside of her chin, and with a start the girl realizes it’s the first time she’s experienced affection from a suitor. She doesn’t smile, doesn’t turn back her head to return the favor. It wasn’t unwanted, but it was something she’d have to get accustomed to. Besra swallows, leaning into the wind while Phaedrus talks to her. “How could you ever stay on the ground?” She calls out, feeling the two of them level out to glide across his small ‘kingdom’. Her bright eyes circle where he indicates, trailing through the dark wood and to the rolling hills where the Dale laid claim.
There was a whole other life for Phaedrus there. He had purpose, a path, a title with the quiet kingdom. “Why did you want to start a herd?” Besra questions, tilting her head so that her words won’t be lost on him. “You could’ve settled down in the Dale with one mare, had a much … simpler life.” She chuckles, peering down once more at the Golden Plains with an appreciative smile.
He was still getting used to sharing affection. It wasn't to long ago that he too had been introduced to such a new and strange concept. He doesn't mind the lack of responsiveness. He chuckles at her statement. Addictive isn't it? He sighs trying to come up with an answer. When I touch the ground, ussually I get so busy that I forget the skies, then my wings remind me where I belong. That second. Well I just dissapear into these clouds. He goes into silence for a moment. Loosing himself in the flow of air. The sun, and the beat of his wings.
She askes him another quesiton and this ione is a little simpler to answer. I wanted to esculate the activity in the kingdoms, I figured that having a herd might help the kingdom members within the herd feel secure enough that they would want to be active around beqanna. I know how dead the kingdoms get. He lowers his gaze he wasn't so sure that it was working. Then another part of him reminded himself of the last time he had visited the dale and how much hustle and bustle had been there. Could he have caused that? Naw that was taking to much pride.
She continues and this he smiles at. I'm not a soul mate forever after type. I get too distracted by work. Besides this way it helps mares that don't want to be cohorced into anything, or slave for a kingdom. Also gives companionship to those that apreciate it. I want to help Beqanna become a better place to live. If he could he would blush, the last words he stumbles over. It was stupid really, who would ever think that a big ol' tough guy like him would ever have such a silly dream. Make Beqanna a better place. That just sounded tacky and idiotic. Like some frivilous female.
Maybe he should tell her a little bit more about himself... sharing this moment with her the weightless soaring they spent together. He dips towards the land spiraling them downwards towards the oasis of willows and creek and other green vegitation that otherwise couldn't be found in the plains. Wairing until she is steady on her feet. He laughs. This is quite comfortable you know. I might just stay here. Had he just flirted?! No way! That was so not like him... or was it? Maybe a deeper part of him that he didn't know about yet? Sheepishly he untangles himself until he limply draped over her back first solidfying his haunches then using them to pull the rest of himself off of her soon he is back to the engulfing hulk that he is ussually.
Anything new and unknown takes time. Coming here, to Golden Plains, would take some getting used to. It’s nothing like the Gates, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t simultaneously wonderful either. They both have their strong points, and with Phaedrus allowing her to soar through the clouds while he puts into words the act of flying, somehow it almost makes the Plains better than the Gates. Not that she’d ever admit that out loud. Even Besra has her moments of stubbornness. His comment on the activity of Kingdoms and the horses within them surprises her, almost as much as his thoughts on his personal life. Phaedrus is a stallion true to his word: He’s honestly not bothered by notions of everlasting love and commitment. What he wants is honourable, maybe even commendable.
Besra realizes that the black stallion wrapped around her is certainly one of a kind. “Then you and I have more in common than we thought.” She tells him, laughing gently with the peace that fills her now. It was simple, being with him. Uncluttered and straightforward, having conversation without ever thinking that it could be more. He’s someone she can take for face value and she appreciates that. The two dip, whirling with ease in a way that only someone who’s at home in the sky can seem to manage. Besra’s grateful of his skill when the ground rises up to meet them, her hooves somewhat clumsy as they finally land. She’s out of breath, eyes flush with excitement and adrenaline.
His quip has her pinning her ears playfully, neck curving so that she can look at the lighthearted man who’d been so serious only a moment ago. She’s game, though, eager for a little fun now that they seem to have found their stride with each other. “If only you could. I might actually like it.” She teases, ribs expanding pleasantly as he shifts gently off. She’s not made of stone, after all. Besra can be girlish when the mood suits her, especially when it comes from Phaedrus without provocation. It almost makes her sad that she’ll be swept away by what’s-his-name …
Besra, however, is a grown mare. Equally capable of holding her own without Phaedrus (or any stallion for that matter) holding her hand along the way. Besides, if she ends up getting her way with her captor, it won’t be long that she’ll be separated from her new partner. “Will you be in the Dale frequently then, these coming weeks? I hope to avoid cobblestone creek as much as I can possibly manage, so maybe I’ll see you there.” She tells him, stretching her back out before shaking her muscles loose. Gravity was always an irritating force to submit to.
His grin grows hearing her retort. He would have to say that hmm, I'm sure we could come up with a reason. If you ever want to do that again let me know.. Knowing exactly what he could expect from and with her, he felt an ease grow between them. They could flirt they could joke, and no feelings would ever be injured. This was as simple as... as... well flying to be exact though others would not agree with him. still he felt such a wave of relief that when the cloud of the steal hovers over them. He can't help but look to the ground. What must she think of him?
I will be there everyday. He won't keep you forever. I'll make sure of it. He growls out the words. There was no way on earth, in heaven, or hell that this dim whit would get away with this. His jaw sets and the animalist urge to go to battle this very moment edged its way towards the surface. It took everything he had to not try and save her now. Even as he knew that it was not possible for him to go to battle for her just yet he was still having a hard time not going and killing the brute this moment. The creature didn't stand a chance against him. Not physically. He could wrap and wind himself until he was choking on his own....
With a shake of his head cleansing air rushes through his body. Letting it out he steps forward, begging for her forgiveness. Though he would not show it. His head still slipped down a little farther. And his wings laxed against his sides. He would take comfort in the moments that they still had together. Offering himself as a blanket to sheild her. Slipping his wing over her back. He knows that what they had was a special friendship. And something told him not to let it slip away. Just as he and Weir had become close, so he felt that he would do so with her. Simple easy, relaxed fun.
