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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "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


    you're the beacon / epithet & anyone
    #1
    There is reward found among the virtues of patience and grace. Although Wound has always held those attributes within the itinerary of her personality, she is beginning to notice their effects as each day blossoms to fruition. The way of the world nowadays is bitter and harsh — frozen words or snapping teeth — and Wound finds herself to be swimming against the currents.

    The currents tug at their heels now, as the pair cross over the sandbar between Tephra and the mainland. The tide is not high thankfully, otherwise they might have had to swim across the channel. Wound remembers fondly her own first steps onto the island with Femur only just in the summer. The silver bay keeps the conversation light on their trip, offering suggestions here and there in regards to minor things such as different routes to take or how high the tide can get after it rains.

    The sand crunches underfoot as they finally step onto Tephra. The air is warm compared to the chill of autumn-winter and a humid breeze sweeps over their shoulders off the ocean’s waves. Wound feels her shoulders relax with the contentment that comes from arriving home after a long day. Her joints ache from limping for such a long time, but the woman turns with a smile toward Epithet.

    “Welcome to Tephra.” Water drips off her silver bay legs, their wading across the channel having reached up to her knees. Wound steps a distance away politely to shake the droplets off her body before gesturing toward the trail leading deeper into the foliage. “You’ll have to watch out for the occasional stream of lava, but other than that I can promise it’s safe here.” For the first time since their introduction, she mentions her leg with a witty smile. “If I’ve made it this long, I’m sure anyone can.”

    @[Epithet] & if anyone wants to meet them both, you're welcome to <3
    #2

    LONGCLAW

    -I close my eyes, ignore the smoke-

    Femur has been the best thing that ever happened to Claw. And, it would seem, she was probably a good thing for Tephra too.

    “Isn’t that her little friend?” The warg thinks, Wildling hopping in dizzying circles around his body. The set of matching emerald eyes he sports dance over the tops of the waves, turning quickly to the swath of land that connects Tephra and the Field at low-tide. It’s there he spots a familiar shape treading through the dark waters. “Wound.” The blue stallion recalls, turning a frown to his son when the leggy colt tries to nip at his hindquarters.

    “Can you find something for me?” He challenges, the subtle hint of curiosity striking a similar tendril of flame in Wildling’s eyes. “Close to home there’s a few sapling willows,” He explains, home being their Meranti tree, of course, “Can you bring me some bark?” He wonders aloud, unable to suppress the proud grin that changes his face once Wildling has shot off like a bullet.

    When he turns his attention back to the silver bay mare and her companion, both have trawled the Tephran shoreline and are resting just beyond his reach, near the entrance of a well-worn path. “No time like the present.” He muses, slipping down a carpeted bank to expose himself to the open. The Commander follows the trail out towards them quickly, enjoying the sensation of hard packed earth dissolving to sand beneath him and when he feels that his approach can no longer be ignored, he calls out.

    “Wound! I’m glad to see you back.” And this is a true statement, one that carries over to his features as they affix themselves to her slightly smaller frame. She seems … different somehow, but for the better. Longclaw grins. “And I see you’ve taken up Femur’s habits as well.” He jokes lightly, head tilting to view the newcomer. “Welcome to Tephra. I’m Longclaw.”



    @[wound] @[Epithet] couldn't resist Smile
    [Image: sScEgld.png]
    #3
    The pretty silver bay woman is so very charming that Epithet finds her voice easy to listen to, her rythmic steps a lovely compliment to the orchestra of sounds that moved around them. The indigo mare is feeling -elated- to have been found by Wound despite her doubts of an easy recruitment. Epithet had expected a grunting stallion with flashing eyes and stiff manhood to cripple her into submission but instead there had been a sweet mare with kind eyes.

    "Thank you, Wound." She offers the mare a soft smile and a plesant nudge to her new friend's unmatched shoulders. The blue mare's black hooves settle into the dirt as pale lilac eyes look for a lava stream...curious as she has never seen one yet in this new world. But then, 'Wound!' Epithet snaps her head around with laced ears to find a glittering version of a familliar face she knows she has seen before. Lashes fall as she narrows her eyes at the male, protective of the velvet brown mare but the stallion seems to know her as he approaches with a chipper demeanor that draws Epithet's attention and ears away from her skull. The blue woman relaxes her svelte form visibly and offers a small, tight lipped smirk. "Hello Longclaw." Her voice is smooth as rich buttercream and she offers a small dip of her head because it was important to get off on the right hoof. "I'm Epithet." There. That was a start. The shapeshifter (though unknown still) returns her gaze to Wound to confirm that the pale haired woman approved of this Longclaw's approach.


    E P I T H E T


    sorry this took so long!

    @[wound] @[Longclaw]
    #4
    The sight of the blue commander silences any doubts Wound might have had. Over the months since her time in Tephra, the silver bay has blossomed in her confidence and ability to overcome her anxieties. However, the approach of someone who has been on the island for longer is welcome and a relieved, sunny smile dances on Wound’s pretty face.

    As Longclaw nears, she cannot help but marvel at his physical appeal. Time and time again the silver woman comes back to a thought similar to: Femur is a lucky girl. The tenseness of Epithet beside her draws Wound’s attention away from the suave blue of Longclaw’s face. Her brow furrows into a line of worry for the indigo mare, curious as to why her initial reaction would be one of mistrust. Wound would never bring anyone into a situation of danger, especially not a newfound friend.

    Wound places a comforting touch to Epithet’s colorful shoulder before greeting the commander. “It’s good to see you, Longclaw.” Always such a sight for sore eyes. “I’m grateful to Femur for bringing me to Tephra, and I figured I should start to earn my keep.” A gentle laugh flows smoothly from her lips. She turns to Epithet then, keen on soothing her friend’s worries further.

    “Longclaw is Tephra’s commander. He helps keep watch over our borders and makes sure everyone is safe. I promise you have nothing to fear.” Besides nearly falling into lava streams too often, Wound considers their island to be one of the safest places in Beqanna. “Would you care for a tour?”

    @[Epithet] @[Longclaw] Sorry this took so long for me to get out, I've been heckin' busy Sad




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