"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
He has always been near, never truly straying too far. The time as a youngling spent more or less with their father was over. He's watched her grow (they have both grown), blossom into this beauty with a twist. They are both nearly adults now, and he has been careful to give her space. She thinks him dull and stupid, but that is fine. The black colt, also showing more subtle signs of graying with his only true distinguishing feature being the bold red blaze on his face, has let her grow and shape and twist without too much evidence of his being near. Their father had been rather easy to separate from. His sister, though, he is drawn inexplicably to her. He knows she doesn't need it, but he feels a bit protective towards her and above all is simply fascinated by her. Now, however, he wishes to be more than a shadow.
He has followed her to the Chamber, where the little beauty has found a home, and wonders if he, too, will be welcome. He has no concerns with following orders of recruiting or what-have-you that their queen has requested, focused as he is more on his sibling. He might make a good warrior, perhaps. He is growing large enough, his structure mainly resembling that of Belgarath's. He is tall, broad, muscles galore, though not overly bulky, and he has shed almost all traces of lanky awkwardness of growth. But the only fighting he intends to do will be what was necessary to protect her. He is altogether unconcerned with how rather sad it was that Shaytan is the only thing he has, the only one he feels loyal to. The only one important to him, even if she pays little mind to his presence. Even if she believes him daft. He will be what she wants him to be, as long as he can be with her. Or at least around.
He finds her doing what she does best and releases a nicker in greeting, standing otherwise as a statue. There is no emotion radiating from the young man, as their never truly has, no expression on his face. Outwardly, he is stoic and impassive. Inside, he is happy to see her up close for the first time in a while. Inside, he wants to approach her and press his muzzle to her cheek in a more affectionate greeting, but he's never been one to act on such urges, and Shaytan would probably not accept his touch in kind anyway. So he stands, devoid, and watches her, holding his tongue until he can better gauge her reaction to him.
[Sorry it's short and crappy, but am excited for this! XD]
Her brother was just… clingy. Weird and quiet and always there. When she was younger, she didn't really know what to make of it. He was like a really big bunny-dog-thing. Except he doesn’t shy away from her teeth, he doesn’t seem intimidated by her obvious mental superiority. Which is just an odd dichotomy in her twisted mind. She can’t really fathom affection or desire, let alone from a family member. Especially from one she likes to shove around; she wants to use him, abuse him, make him hers in every way except that way. Cause that shit’s gross.
She would almost prefer Navarro to fight back. Wouldn’t that be more interesting? The biting siblings, the giant teeth, the bulky, broad magnets (although Shaytan can’t find anything appealing about him except for his pliability and eagerness). They could do some serious damage to each other. Wouldn’t that be fun? There aren’t a lot of trees or bushes to hide behind, and they ain’t exactly small, so Shaytan sees him coming before he stops and nickers (she pretends to be very interested in the burnt corpse of a tree, staring at the tiny green shoots that are sprouting at its base). Without turning around, she says, “So did you come for funsies, or did Bel send you?”
So long as he doesn’t touch her nicely, she will tolerate him. They weren’t the nice kids. They didn’t have a nice father or mother, they didn’t grow up with I-love-you’s and other such nonsense. The moment he knew Shaytan was a girl, he wrote her off. The moment he realized Navarro wasn’t going to be his protege, he stopped caring. Their father was painfully transparent and there’s no doubt where Shaytan got her sense of selfishness from. It’s all about her. And the bunnies.
Speaking of… she needs to find a replacement. Soon. The craving to catch something in her teeth was growing stronger by the day. She wanted that hot metal taste on her tongue again. She wanted to hear the bunny screams.
Mice screams just weren’t loud enough. And they were fucking hard to catch.
Shaytan
and every time she knocks I can't help but let her in
He snorts at her mention of their father sending him. He gives a haphazard shake of his head, his mane falling like a curtain of black against his thick neck. "You know all he cares about is the three basic needs of a man." His deep baritone voice is bored and indifferent as he speaks of the large gray oaf that'd sired them. Indeed, all that Belgarath seems to care about is eat, sleep, and sex. Not in any particular order. And always with an air of superiority. Fortunately for him, he hasn't been around to witness the man's latest arrogance about his newfound powers. Navarro rolls his broad shoulders in a display of 'I couldn't give two shits' as muddy brown eyes follow her gaze to the trees and brush. Though it doesn't show, amusement sparks within him at the thought of his sister seeking another rabbit to maim (having witnessed the event at least once or twice). And then an idea slips into his mind as he contemplates how to answer the other part of her question. He truly is pleased to see her, but he certainly wouldn't be the fool to tell her such. He wouldn't tell her he had come to pledge himself to her bidding, at least not yet. A sudden urge to break his statue-esque mold overcomes him as he slowly comes to stand beside her, eyes seemingly scanning through the foliage as well. Quietly, and his tone taking on a certain crypticness as it rumbles through his chest, he speaks once more, somewhat close to her ear.
Though his eyes are on the ground, he is alert to the slightest motion from the spotted mare beside him. "Tell me, dear Sister, is the blood of rodents the only taste you crave?" Before giving her a chance to respond, however, he rapidly snakes his neck out and aims a bite (more a playful nip, though a bit rough) at her own, possibly reaching an ear or at least a spot close to it a little lower. Suddenly more alive than she'd ever seen him, the black tank of a stallion lurches forward into motion. Massive hooves dig into the ground to force his big body faster, and his long strides carry him out and away from her. Fully anticipating her to retaliate in kind, he excitedly kicks up his rear end and twists his barrel, powerful hind legs lashing out in whichever direction she decided to flank him, if at all. This particular action wasn't truly intended to make contact, but if by chance it did, would most likely cause little harm to her. If no impact was made, so be it.
There is a shark-ish grin tugging his lips back, revealing teeth. If she had indeed pursued him after his buck, he veers off in the opposite direction, picking up speed as sweet adrenaline courses his veins. It was not often in the slightest that the drafty colt gets a wild hair up his ass like this, but damn he'd be a liar if he said it didn't feel good. Hopefully having gained some distance from his sibling, he gradually slows in a wide circle to gauge her reaction to him and lock eyes on her position. If she is charging toward him, he would swing his rump around so that he faces her, sliding to a stop and lifting the front of his body in a half-rear to kick out at her with lightly feathered forelimbs when she nears him. If not, then the act is a taunt, a glint in his eyes and toothy grin still in place. Come and get me, sister.
[XD I honestly don't know where this came from. Guess he wants to play ]
Belgarath can go fuck himself. She doesn’t even deign to call him Father; he kept her safe in the Meadow, but he didn’t raise her the way parents are supposed to. She lingered somewhere between orphan and other, having no mother to speak of and an almost equally absent father. Unless she did something wrong, and then the teeth came out.
You know, that’s probably where she got this blood fixation.
All the best crazy girls have Daddy issues, don’t they? Who else is our poor little freckled girl going to blame it on? She can’t possibly take full responsibility for it.
Then again, the really crazy girls never know they’re actually crazy.
Something as innocent and wide-eyed and fluffy-tailed shouldn’t be allowed to live.
He lingers in the edge of her concentration until he steps up to her side and whispers in her ear. And then everything is set on edge, from the hair on her neck to the ears falling flat against her head. He knew! Of course he knew, stupid girl. He was always in the shadows, he had to have seen something long the way. His teeth land on her neck, catching a couple of strands of her mane as well, and the pinching stinging causes her to squeal and lash out with her own teeth. It’s almost reflexive and therefore very quick. Shaytan isn’t really concerned about whether or not her strike lands, she just wants to get the message across - don’t fuck with sister dearest.
He leaps away, heading behind her, and she pivots to face his rear end - to do what, Shaytan doesn’t know. But she knows she’s pissed. Half of her wants to give chase and beat the shit out of him. Half of her wants to turn around and ignore him, like she usually does. Her hesitation allows her to miss his flying hind hooves and when he takes off, she leaps after him, making that two giant ponies running around the Chamber. She may not know this land like the back of her hand, but she knows its new flowing ways. The land here is uneven and if he isn’t careful, he could easily trip over the sudden rises and falls of hardened lava flows.
Unlike Navarro, Shaytan doesn’t slow down, which allows her to close the distance quickly, coming up upon her brother as he begins to wheel around - hopefully catching him off guard, or at least being further along than he expected her to be. She isn’t aiming to rear up and attack him with forelimbs, instead she simply keeps on going and goingandgoing until Navarro either moves out of the way or stops her with his own body. They should be about the same size, though Navarro might be a bit bigger, because he’s a dude.
Shaytan braces for impact and the bruising that will follow. She doesn’t care that it will hurt like hell.
Shaytan
and every time she knocks I can't help but let her in
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