"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
And just why should I return to the once-kingdom of Loess? It was never a home to me, not in the sense that some consider home. None greeted me at daybreak or sought me out among the hills. Even Ivar (the creature who’d found me and brought me there,) had forgotten me. So I left, just the same as the day I left the adoption den when I was so small and insignificant.
You still are.
Here in the Meadow I’m free to mingle; this togetherness eases the tension I have about trekking back to that place, it gives me an odd sense of comfort to talk and be heard. As such the shade of my coat begins to change with my mood, finally settling on a rosy pink color. I’m the shade of a well-placed blush, effeminate and pretty as I should be, with a pale white mane and tail. The clear, almost crystal-like wings covering my back ruffle for a moment as I listen to my companions compliment the new change, and then a boisterous laugh - robust, rich and full of life - peals from behind me.
It’s so noisy and yet so intriguing that I find myself turning to look: casting the shadow of my pale gray eyes out into the thriving mass with the intentions of finding whoever made such a sound. It comes again - breaking through the murmur - and I spot the trappings of an overlarge, mature, and rather charismatic-looking stallion.
I love his color, even from back here where I can only just discern the pattern. “Excuse me,” I impart to the horses I’d been speaking with, turning away from them with the coquettish dip of my head. I wanted a closer look at him, this unknown rake, and to see what meddle such a laugh could be made of. My legs obey, weaving me politely through the groups until at last I’m close enough to catch his attention.
“Do you have a name to match that voice?” I ask, coming to a standstill. There’s a demure grin highlighting my otherwise attractive face, and for a moment I blink my lashes; just slow enough for them to bat gently together. “I’m Rey.”
@[Leilan] Soooo I wrote this as she's just there, hanging out, and she hears him laughing -hope that's okay! If you want anything changed let me know
Your beauty is beyond compare - oh, if I could hear but one song from you
I shall hail thee Queen of Birds...
Isn't there always a silly horse, foal or clumsy animal that one can laugh about? His conversation had been casual to this point, someone commenting on the nice weather, another on the taste of spring and summer grass. The roan would have easily entered a joke if they hadn't been passing through just like he, instead letting his eyes scan the horizon. This season was a fun one, with babies old enough to run around and play games, with critters flooding the bushes and trees - then he laughs at a young colt who'd been too eager and stuck his nose in an ants' nest. The boy is away before he can comment however, and with another snicker he looks him after - ah, he's soon to find his mother, but she directs him to a stream without further comment, not willing to let the ant-crawled nose of her son even near herself. And right she is.
Well, that kid's lucky it's just a regular ants nest, with black ones even thought they bite also - termites and red ants, those are the worst. A similar comment as to this thought, from one of his grazing companions, is lost to him by the sound of the female voice behind him, and the other stallion seems to shrug as the multicoloured turns to find a rose-coloured mare asking for his name and giving hers. He dips his head in greeting, putting on his most charming smile (does he even have another?) before answering. "That I have, miss Rey." he teases - without giving up the more obvious answer that she clearly had been looking for. He does not fail to notice that her colour and wings are a lovely match, or the fact that her eyelashes blink together perhaps more slowly than they would have, had she thought him uninteresting. Here's the catch, though - he has never before experienced a mare deliberately seeking him out instead of the other way around (of course, there have been casual and chance meetings too) and it might just intrigue him more than he cares to admit. So anything that will keep her wondering, keep her interest, will do - in this case the lack of a name, at least, as long as he can manage.
Closing the distance separates him from the small group of others, who don't seem to mind - they weren't friends before and probably won't be after, so he wouldn't have minded had she come to ask any of them a question. She beat him to the most obvious return question, so instead, he finds another. "To what do I owe the pleasure of meeting you today?" Oh, and how her name rhymes with many things. He swallows her name instead of saying it again and again, not wanting to point it out, yet. It would be highly irritating, he presumes she must have known this before. Besides, it won't do to make fun of a pretty name and a pretty lady, especially when her intentions seem clear enough but still have foggy edges - is she really that quick to approach something her eye or ear liked, or did she come from a darker place to lure him in? He can't say he would be disappointed if she was, however. She would succeed no matter her purpose, it's just that he might like to know beforehand if there's any hope for him left.
there's something here that doesn't make sense
let's go and poke it with a stick
@[Rey] halp someone is flirting with him instead of the other way around, lol
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
Ah, what a gentleman! I liked him from afar but when that quirky mouth of his parts and the roan stallion teases me good, it causes my tail to flick excitedly against my supple, pink flanks. I’m intrigued, I must admit - firstly by his mannerisms and then by his continued ability to refuse me an answer while still being charming about it. “Like a sly little fox,” I think, a feminine and elegant smile brightening my already cheery face. “You owe it to curiosity, stranger.” I tease right back, tilting a confident cheek towards him as I settle into a more comfortable stance.
I’ve gotten him away from the others, and that was only the first step. “Would it be too much to ask for a little company, hmm?” I ask, the question hovering close to a sweet, innocent beg. “Someone with your robust sense of humor is sure to have more on his mind than just the weather” I muse, shifting closer towards him. It was easy to fall into the rhythm of this spotted stallion’s attitude; he was easy-going and so was I - almost a perfect match.
“Big guy like yourself has to come from somewhere. Are you the brave sort, sir, or more of a diplomat? No -” I say suddenly, cutting myself off, “- Don’t tell me yet. I want to guess, first.”
With an airy, attractive laugh I swing my head so that the pale white strands of my forelock are out of my eyes, and then I take to walking very slowly around the colorful draft, just like a buyer inspecting his purchase. “Certainly strong, I’ll give you that.” I say, as I pass alongside him and begin to circle around his backside. The pale, gray flecks of my irises are roaming freely over every curve and muscle he posses, taking in the swirl of his white-flecked-red coat and noting the distinct gold sheen to his mane and tail. “Though a bit weathered for a bay … your black markings are a bit sun-bleached.”
Teasing, all gentle teasing, and he can tell this by the way my mouth is lifted into a spirited smile once I finish my examination and stand before him again. “I’m going to guess that you’re a warrior, I’m sure of it. And that you’re from Nerine!” I pipe, confident in my assessment regardless of the outcome. The fun was all in the game, not in winning or losing.
Your beauty is beyond compare - oh, if I could hear but one song from you
I shall hail thee Queen of Birds...
She sure has a good idea of where she wants to go and what she wants. He can appreciate her like-minded movements, and the fact that she does not ask twice. He grins at her demanding tease, dipping his head. However, he feels like sharing, having been called stranger once before for the duration of a whole conversation, and besides, it would be a one-sided exchange from the start if he didn't tell her. "Name's Leilan. But if you come up with something else, I'll make it work just for you." he winks.
She shifts closer like a water nymf through the sea, making the grassy waves part instead of pushing through. Or at least she makes it seem so - perhaps some mares are gifted with abilities, but surely not as many as he has seen. No, it must be some trick that only mares can learn. The point being - elegant and swift, she is close now, and his light-brown eyes follow her every move. He doesn't verbally answer the question - she's already having him for company, and so much more if she only makes a move. His lips curl at her mentioning the weather. "Although I should mention, it is a rather hot day." he muses, mumbles almost, as she moves past him in that same fluid motion. She circles him, talking, and his eyes and ears follow her without him moving his head more than a few inches in total, the peripheral vision of a horse excellent material for such things. He flicks his tail at her when she passes a second time, making her assessments. He grins when she mentions sun-bleached for his silver mane and tail and roaning, and jerks back easily, equally teaching. "Stay away of lemon juice. Nasty stuff." he tells her in a semi-serious tone, as if that's the secret to his colouring.
She guesses about right - warrior, Nerine. Well, that would have been the case had Ischia not been a better fit, but perhaps she hasn't heard of the brotherhood yet. Her own smell is indistinct; all over the place, but yet as if she hasn't been in Beqanna very long, which would explain her lack of knowledge on the politics. "Close," he muses, ears perked towards her. "I'm going to guess that you're a different type of warrior... or some very persuasive diplomat, but one who's been without a home for a while." he sums up. The type of fights she would be in... probably very unlike the one he usually partakes in with his brothers. And her yet would not mind joining her in whatever dance she would like to start.
there's something here that doesn't make sense
let's go and poke it with a stick
@[Rey]
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
It wasn’t often that I felt this way; beguiled into laughter and warm smiles. The pealing bells of my voice and the pleasant, womanly grin on my lips are genuine too - Leilan is simply a natural. From the flick of his tail to his chirpy responses, I find myself loosening every muscle and nerve until we’re both standing eye to eye. Even my petite ears are perked like his, hovering with anticipation at what he might say next.
Close, he tells me, though I’d never expected to be right. It was better that Leilan thought me incompetent for now, maybe even a bit cute. When you disarm a stallion with charm, they lower their expectations substantially and from the way he’s staring, I’d say his were at rock bottom. He could never truly guess the places my wings have taken me, and I’d rather he just be himself for the moment anyways while I … well, while I stayed true to my nature too.
“I’ll keep the lemon advice in mind,” I smile, flicking away the season’s pests buzzing at my sides, “and I’m neither, actually.”
Working for the man had never suited me, so I never did it. And Loess, along with Arthas, still had open arms for their favorite little doll. “Looks like we both can’t read a book by it’s cover Leí, I’m actually an entertainer.” I grin, fashioning him a nickname from another language I’d picked up on my travels.
With a dramatic, (if not graceful) step backwards I curve my head to my chest and tuck my right foreleg to my belly in a sweeping bow. As I bend my coat begins to shift, like a puzzle being shaken up, darkening itself and swirling until the moment I rise to stand again.
When it settles, Leilan and I are almost identical in color.
The gold of his mane I can’t quite catch (I’m working with a restricted palette here) but otherwise we’re twins. I’ve caught every unique blend of his white and red coat, matched the whorl of his color and the way it blends to black precisely. In fact, I’m pretty proud considering how quick my time had been to look him over. “Ta-da! Tell me you aren’t impressed.” I try him, a dazzling grin accentuating my newly-darkened face.
Your beauty is beyond compare - oh, if I could hear but one song from you
I shall hail thee Queen of Birds...
Oh, dear Rey, lovely-looking ray, sunshine through a water droplet you are. Leilan’s standards are always near rock-bottom. There’s no girl he wouldn’t chase given the chance; one walking right into his handsome face is new, but he can definitely get used to it. The way she moves compliments him, and when she comes to a standstill and mimics his body language, he does the same thing she did to him. It’s his time for a good inspection, swaying his head to the right and trotting, almost prancing, to circle her and inspect her just as she had him - though with other intentions, it seems perhaps, for she suddenly mimics in a way he cannot, and instead of flirting her purpose is made clear - she had needed to memorize the pattern.
”Hmm. I hadn’t thought you the jealous type. Quite impressive, although I find a very distinct flaw in the softness of those curves of yours. So what would a female Leilan do, I wonder?” he muses aloud. To be honest, he thinks that a female version of himself, without any other adjustments, would be a Nerinian warrior with one kid for every year she was fertile, because she would be as much of a flirt as he. He closes in for another circle, and when he’s passed around her butt and lined up parallel to her, he nibs at her ear. ”We should be a travelling circus, you and me. What’cha think? A joker and it’s mirror, we’re sure to entertain everyone in every corner of the world.” As well as each other, it seems.
there's something here that doesn't make sense
let's go and poke it with a stick
@[Rey]
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
Not exactly a question most males would consider, but I do like the way he thinks. I also admit that I highly enjoyed the feeling of his critical and yet appreciative eyes on me, low as it might seem. Being admired was close to being intoxicated for me, all the better when I could desire whoever it was doling the attention out. That’s why I don’t flinch as he sidles comfortably alongside me, and also why I lean in to close the respectful gap between us as he teases my attentive ear.
“I think,” My voice hums, low and wanton in the back of my throat as I press the soft curve of my mouth to Leilan’s powerful shoulder, “that I know exactly what a female Leilan should say at a moment like this:” I pause.
With one clear wing situated against his side and the other drawn prettily to my stomach, we look like an optical illusion pressed together. I opt instead to the let a deep, rich crimson blossom over my coat, beginning at the high points of my cheeks. In contrast, my mane and tail shade themselves to a wicked black as stockings, dark like ink, color my legs. “Let’s go somewhere quieter?” I purr, drawing the point of my nose into the dip of his neck first, and then around to his chest.
He was pushing all the right buttons with me today, all I needed now was a simple yea and I could push his right back.
Your beauty is beyond compare - oh, if I could hear but one song from you
I shall hail thee Queen of Birds...
She doesn't flinch, like some would have. She doesn't mind that he's so close, but hey, she'd practically invited him to do just that, so even if she hadn't liked it, she would be too late now. Whatever it is that made him stand out to her, he knows that he would follow her anywhere, - to be fairer, at least this afternoon.
She thinks she knows the answer to his question - and he thinks it's almost exactly true. She changes colour once again, probably just because she can - crimson and ink this time. He likes the way she changes - there's a small moment of concentration on her face, when she is thinking of what she wants to be, and any vibrant colour she can think of is displayed. He takes her scent deeply when she pushes her nose into his neck and chest; only then does he answer. Soft and low, as if his voice would betray him otherwise (it definitely would, but it probably already does). "Quieter seems like a very good idea to me." he agrees, almost mindlessly caressing the skin of her neck, just at the base of her mane, where they fall to the other side.
He'd go anywhere with her, right now. Or nowhere, and he wouldn't even care if it's the middle of the meadow.
there's something here that doesn't make sense
let's go and poke it with a stick
@[Rey]
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
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