"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
There is always room for firsts. Like the first time you take a step, or suckle some of that sweet milk from your mothers nipple. Maybe the first time you meet a girl, or the first time you hear of the kingdoms. Its all just a part of life, suprising twists and turns that create a colorful event in history. This was a first for him, crossing the border of the Dale with the intent to make this his home... He pauses for a second considering this thought. Yes that sounds right, "home" the low hum of saying it assotiated with the Dale sort of clicked right in his mind. Looking at the ground in front of himself the creature notices how this would be the last step he would have to take before he found himself in the company of others. Along with the last step he would have to take without a purpose, sure life had purpose, he had owned reasons for purposeness in the past. But... this time, it was different. This time he didn't know his future, and didn't know what to expect. This time he was ok with that... Almost you could say looking forward to the new journey that life would provide for him.
He felt like he was getting back into the swing of things. He knew he was. Slowly the pain was subsiding, he tried to think happily on what would have been, or to simply not think of it at all. He was surprised he could be pained by something or someone he had never known, the hurt burned brightly and deeply. That was the beautiful thing about life and love though he supposed, such powerful things demanded powerful feelings in return.
He knows he is feeling better as he stalks the borders for the first time in ages. He had been doing an otherwise mediocre job at patrolling for the last few months, time to change that.
Glad he has decided to step it up again, because there is someone new standing at their borders today. Another stallion, he's about to cross actually and so Weir does something he does not often do. He begins a trot, hurriedly making his way over, "Terribly sorry, we have rules though you know. Not polite to cross the border without invitation." He does look sorry too, this man was obviously not a threat, had not come with ill intent. Rules are rules though, and he would be a poor soldier and diplomat if he just allowed him to walk on in, no questions asked.
"I'm Weir, resident Professor, army initiate, transformer of Magic. Many things, but mostly I am just Weir." A genuine smile plays at his lips as he spills his river of information. "Who might you be? Is there something I can help you with?" His amber eyes show creases of age though it is evident he is not entirely old, at least not for these lands.
WEIR
I've a nervous notion I should take to bleeding inwardly
Just as he is about to announce his arrival by crossing the border, he finds a companion already on his way. Phaedrus isn't quite sure just what to make of this creature. It almost startled him at how crass this other one was. No slow walk ins, or polite chit chat, or come on in let me show you around. Just, dont cross, its the rules. If he had remembered correctly, the Dale had always be neutral territory, A place that everyone was welcome and could take refuge in. He smiles politely to the male "of course, must always follow the rules." Well there was no point in rankling this creature. As much as he wanted to. Then at the introduction, Phaedrus almost can't hold back his smirk but manages with another smile. So now it was title throwing? Desperate to impress, well if it was respect the man was looking for he sure wasn't going to find it in Phaedrus after that little shinanagine.
Shaking his Colbalt mane out, the stallion lazily looks over the new comer. "Phaedrus" It wasn't titles that he took pride in, but rather his name, it was something that no one could take from him. It was what identified him as a soul, it was the significance that someone cared enough to think of it for him. That there was someone that would love him enough to give him something that would define him the rest of his life. When the man askes him for his purpose here, he grunts, "well was thinking of establishing a home for myself within these borders as a kingdom member. But of course I was presuming that the old customs of open borders was still intact." He pauses for a moment. He had time, everyone had time, why rush things. "Then again, I guess nothing can stay the same forever." He looks around the place, of course as much as the fullage and natural order of things had remained intact, the kings, and their rules would always vary. Eh why let it bother him, this creature was still in all likely hood learning. So with a smile he cocks his head to the side "So.. invitation huh?" He was hoping the horse would explain the changes made to the classic border rules. He had no intentions of being rude to this fellow. Wasn't there to make any judgements after all. Just there to discover himself in a sense.
Weir was a kind fellow, usually it took many things to get him riled up about something, that fact still held true. He was doing much better in the department of controlling his emotions since the loss of his son. He gives the new comer a warm smile as he speaks, "Why yes, even the King's sister whom has moved on to the Amazons gave courtesy enough to stop at our borders." Weir was many things, many words were used to describe him, the usual were 'eccentric', 'odd', 'strange'. He was all those things of course, a jolly, odd,eccentric fellow. He knew of many customs, both here and from afar, each had their own and as things tend to go, things change. Times change, people, places, that was one of the guarantees in life. No matter what, who you were, where you were- things would change, and they could not be kept from doing so. "Never too cautious now days, why, I heard the Gates was set a blaze just recently. Burned and poisoned their Mother Tree as well," he sighed "good people there in the Gates."
He simply couldn't help how he tended to ramble on. Weir loved to share information, in
his mind that is simply what he had done. He had in a very short time already given this new man several tidings of information. Knowledge is power you know?
"Phaedrus you say? Why, I do enjoy Plato's many good works." He seems deep in thought for a moment, amber eyes unfocused before he recalls his purpose. "A new home? Well, you have come to a great one. Plenty of room, good spots to watch turtles too. Enough of regulations, come I can show you around if you like my good fellow." He gestures to the man, if he had arms he would have spread them wide, perhaps placed a palm on his shoulder beckoning him forward.
WEIR
I've a nervous notion I should take to bleeding inwardly
He grunts in response. Not rudely, just in acknowledgement. Yes, Phaedrus may be able to begin enjoying the company of this creature.
When rules are brought up along with caution he replies with a "Yes, of course. Its going to be a while before the kingdoms can return to the trusts they once held with one another."
This would be the reason why he always held his judgement back until getting to know one better. While he still needed to get over the intial shock of the steed, he could see where this one could provide to be a good friend. Blunt, that was the word for him. Very informatively blunt. He smiled at this thought. He had never quite seen the two catigories placed together before. And the one representing them couldn't be a better pick. Though the smile comes at the right time for something about his name and Plato is mentioned.
He didn't know much, so just the smile, and the stallion continues in providing more information. With a gentle bob of his head in gratitude he steps across the border. "Thank you I would like that very much." He could easily say that he enjoyed the company of this creature. He wasn't pressured to talk, he could just meander and listen. Which he liked doing anyways. Everything the stallion had said before was filed away to look back over at a later date. Not providing that he knew of anything that was being talked about though. "I didn't know of the Gates, but I was under the impression that the magical eliments could not be damaged. I thought they were what provided the kingdoms with their borders." As they walk he looks down cautious not to trip before looking back to his side at Weir.
10-10-2015, 05:47 AM (This post was last modified: 10-17-2015, 11:05 AM by Weir.)
A slow pace he sets, a leisurely stroll, one of which he is fond of. Weir does not like to hurry through life, not unless hurry is truly needed. He found most of the time it was not, that others rushed about unnecessarily.
He nods, sending russet colored hair flying about his face and neck. "I'm afraid that's not the case." He begins, though he knows little of the Gates ordeal, just enough to know it was a foul thing indeed. In regards to the magical entities that the fae had bestowed on them, he was still learning. "The gifts are all still very young my good man, vulnerable in their infancy. I speculate this is how the tree was damaged in such an extensive way." His amber eyes are thoughtful, yet calculating, it was apparent that he did not approve of the manner in which some Kingdoms conducted themselves. "Good apples, bad apples, there's all kinds that make the world go around. I like to think myself a good apple." He solidified the reflection with a nod, as if that would make it concrete.
He knew he couldn't be a bad one, why, the pool of souls had set him at ease. "Have you traveled far Phaedrus? We can stop a bit ahead at the river for a drink." He turns his amber eyes to the black in question. It wouldn't do to go around dying of thirst, he would be an awful host if he allowed it. Finally he asks the question at the tip of his tongue, "Why, do you mind? The blue, did you come about it at birth or a happy accident?" He thought it a magnificent quality, blue hair, however had it occurred?
WEIR
If you hurt me, that's okay baby, only words bleed
The time he had been away from others is reflected in these moments when gentle conversation is struck up and the silence is not ringing in his ears. How much he misses company, and desires to be needed. The deep longing to have a community around him.
The comment on the kingdom earns a thoughtful scower "Its to really to bad. Do they have any alliances to assist them in their time of need?" He startles himself with the question, why is he taking so much interest in kingdom affairs? Normally he doesn't care about anything outside of the place that he calls home.
Well that needs to change because anything that happens outside of the borders could very well effect inside these borders. Having knowwledge of these facts, such as the magic, can very well one day save his skin. As they continue their trails, he spots a birch picking it out to scratch his neck with as soon as they get close enough.
The following words he files away for later to ponder over. It was a quir saying, but something about it makes his mind mule over it. Ahh later thoughts, so he grunts an agreement to display that he is infact listening.
"I've traveled further." He says it in a pleasent way, almost like he was going to shrug... if he could. "Still a refreshing dring would be nice." He replies.
When Weir pauses their stroll he smiles to himself, just next to the birch too. Hooding his eyes in pleasure, his neck bobs as it rubs on the bark. ""No I dont mind at all. I was born with it. Caused my mother quite the fright." He snickers at this, though it isn't the full truth. His elasticity just isn't good enough for the morphing family.
Being raised by his sister isn't so bad. He quite enjoys her company... when she isn't in a bad mood that is. "How long have you been in the Dale?" He asks.
He takes a step away from the tree, staying a step behind so that their whithers dont quite meet, since the extense of his knowledge of the land ends here. At the crest of the hill where you can no longer see the border.
On this he thinks a spell. He hadn't thought the Gates was allied with anyone, likely not many if they were. "Come to think of it, I don't believe so. I agree, a shame, I found the little female they sent most delightful, shy, but delightful. Adorable little girl as well, barely born." He feels at fault that the meeting had not been a fruitful one, though they were not at odds with the Gates per-se, they were not allied with them either. They could have been perhaps, once upon a time, and should the need arise he would not be against issuing them aid. It was the least they could do really, destruction of a kingdoms entity was an abomination. All was well with love and war, that jazz, but he found such a display out of line.
Such things were really not for him to decide though, the final call rested with their King. He would like to think that in dire need they would give what they could to the innocent. The Gates did not have much he knew, but they were king and gentle people. They had not deserved the destruction the Chamber had brought on them. Not deserved it one bit. From what Weir could gather, they were simply the bottom rung of a ladder, and he wondered how far up the Chamber would dare climb.
"Oh? I beg pardon. Well it's just over this ridge here, plenty of fresh drink." Weir himself was used to drinking copious amounts of water at one time. An odd habit for some, for himself, not so much. He makes no trouble of leading the black down the slope to the river that cuts through the Dale. "I would imagine that could be a shock to any mother." He chortles kindly, stepping into the water flow. Here the river was clam enough to wade through, to peek at turtles on the bank, or fish beneath the surface. "Me? Why, its been years now." Squinting his amber eyes to remember when exactly he had made that journey, counting under his breath. "5 years now by golly!" It surprises even him,this realization, time sure had a way of flying by.
WEIR
If you hurt me, that's okay baby, only words bleed
He looks around lazily itching the spot. For a moment in pure pleasure he lets his neck slip into a elastic goo. With eyes shut he shakes out his mane with a chuckle. "Yes, it would be wouldn't it?" Then again, with all his families abilities it wouldn't be such a suprise to her. Just that he wasn't "special" enough. Ah well, that was life. For a second as they plod along he wonders at how the young creature was doing that he had raised.
It was that time of year, when all the women got frisky, and the males aggressive, and every year this time a thought or two would slip her way.
"Well then it would be safe to assume that you like it here." He states sort of absently. A dreamy slip in time hazes over him, until the cool wetness of water shocks him back to reality. Bending his head he blows out his nostrils creating a bubbly surface around his wiskery maw.
A twinkle of mischief twinkles his eyes, before shifting his weight and slamming his other foreleg closest to Weir into the pool of water. It gets some water in his eyes, and mane, but after shaking out the water from his sight he looks to Weir for a response. His muscles coiling getting ready to dodge what ever the creature intends.
After they have had their fill, and the water fight ends he steps to the bank for a good roll. Sniffing at the ground he circles a few times before stretching his legs to comfortably get down on his knees. Eventually he lays and kicks his legs into the air shifting his weight to allow for wriggling as he slides from one side to the other his spine curving like a snake getting all those crazy hard spots to catch. Purring with joy, he eventually rolls to his feet shaking himself out with a sheepish grin. He probably looked rediculious.
10-24-2015, 08:55 PM (This post was last modified: 10-24-2015, 09:30 PM by Weir.)
Wetness greets his lips as he lowers his mouth to taste the fresh, cool waters. The rivers from the mountains, are some of the cleanest he has ever tasted-a pure, untouched delicacy. He nods, "Right-o, I do like it well indeed!" A remark that he means wholeheartedly. The Dale is home now, after so many years of wandering. He no longer feels the urge, the pull in his stomach, to move on from place to place. Though he still does a bit of adventuring around Beqanna, and that seemed to suit him just fine. There was plenty to see right here.
The roans eyes widen, watching as his new companion's neck wiggles like a rubber band. "My, what a fabulous trick!" He cries with interest and curiosity, leaning over for a closer look. Just in time, the other male throws his head around, sending blue strands of hair flapping about his face. Weir pulls back, not wanting to make an over zealous intrusion, now that the opportunity was missed. Instead, he looks on through amber eyes while his friend enjoys himself. Tiny bubbles curl up around Phaedrus's mouth as he expels air into the clear liquid. Weir smiles softly before looking absently down stream.
When he turns his russet head back in his comrades direction, he is met with a face full of water. A great splash finds his eyes, causing him to shake vigorously his head. Blinking, he turns to chuckle, "Why, take that you scallywag." He rears in the river, bringing his forelegs down to cause a grand splash. He returns fire with gusto. In the end he ends up soaked, but against the summer sun it is a welcome outcome.
"Well, how about you then? New, returned?" Inquiries come just as easily as spewing information to Weir. How else was he expected to learn? "Any family here?" He asks while he shakes himself and climbs from the river. Its not at all absurd to him, to enjoy a good roll, but he does not partake. It's quite enjoyable to sun dry every now and again, and he chooses to do just that. "No family here for me I must say. Not in the sense of blood ties. The Daleans make good family though, once given the chance. Once I almost had a son even." Eyes closed as he speaks, almost as though he is recalling a time from very long ago.
WEIR
If you hurt me, that's okay baby, only words bleed
