"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
12-03-2015, 03:16 PM (This post was last modified: 12-07-2015, 11:27 AM by e v e r d e e n.)
been tryin' hard not to get into trouble
Everdeen is a creature that needs attention, all of it, to be drowned in it even. She has not found that in the Valley and truth be told, she may never find it. She must go where she feels it is most likely to occur though and in her travels, Ramiel had been the kindest. Diplomatic, a gentleman, a handsome, ghostly, man. Her trek is quicker this time.
She passes through the Chamber, her ears catch declarations of war and bloodlust but she keeps moving - Everdeen knows nothing first hand of battle, she knows of ill intent but not murder, at least by an honest way. The gray and white paint mare finds herself finally at the Dale and a sigh of relief is not far behind. She feels a little nervous, a small pit in her stomach where butterflies may be as she ponders whether or not to seek Ramiel or wait for anyone else to arrive. She decides quickly to call for him, "Ramiel! It's Everdeen," she smiles, shyly as she trots forward with excitement.
Her heart was good, her mind was just a little strange.
He doesn’t forget pleasant conversations or the face of his companions. So when the early summer breeze carries the ashy, crisp scent of the burning Valley, Ramiel moves swiftly towards the source. Her face is an easy one to remember. Mostly, he remembers her sweet, genuine smile when he’d teased her about her chosen homeland. He remembers, too, how pretty she’d been in the soft light of springtime – similar to now, but several years prior. He is not the same man he was, even those few short years back. In the time since he last saw Everdeen, Ramiel has come closer to death than he ever wanted to – not his, but the end of his recently-recovered brother. And even though he welcomes his own death every time he changes (even though he has come to relish the cold feeling of the reaper’s thin hands) he hadn’t wanted it to touch anyone else, most of all his kin. The loss still pulls him down. He thinks that, even if Everdeen waits for him with her charming grin and her easy words, it won’t be the same this time for him. Despite this, he hopes it is her waiting on their borders.
And the grey stallion is still glad to find that it is.
Perhaps she can pull him back up and away from the downward spiral of his grief. “Hey you,” he says, whickering warmly as he comes upon her. She has remained at the tree-line of their eastern border, and for this simple courtesy, he is grateful. It improves his mood as much as it can be improved upon these days, though his smile is still strained. Even if Tiberios hadn’t died, he couldn’t fully relax. Not anymore. Not when their world hangs on the edge of chaos, totters precariously on the lip of a war-trap. Everything is converging at once, it seems, and it is hard to prepare for all of it collectively.
A red-bellied robin darts over the mare’s head, and his golden eyes trace its path in the sky for a moment before they fall to Everdeen once more. “This isn’t the Valley, I’m sure you are aware.” A ghost of a grin starts on his face, though he tries to contain it as long as possible. She had garnered his full attention last time with her patchwork beauty and easy nature – this time, he thinks he’ll make it a bit harder on her, if only for their slight familiarity with one another. “Unless you’re here to draw from an already-parched well for more information?” Ramiel steps closer then, extends his neck towards her as if to touch noses before he pulls back. Women are still such a mystery to him. He’s never sure if his advances are welcome or if they seem clumsy or predatory or completely off-base.
Sometimes he wishes he was a mind-reader - of mares, if nothing else.
“Or have you come to your senses and left that god-forsaken hole-in-the-ground once and for all?” The best possibility, of course. He can’t say he would mind if Everdeen were here to stay. He also knows it is unlikely, that she is probably on yet another diplomatic mission for the once-evil kingdom and wants only to be on her way once their conversation ends. But he can hope his instincts are wrong. The sooty stallion smiles openly now, unable to hide his pleasure at her company for any longer. When the day is agreeable and the company even more so, it is easier to see past the shadows.
