"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
The spotted mare had been around for a while, but never out like this. She has always kept to herself and never wanted to be part of a herd. But things can change and so can the mind. She watched a mother and foal play together one day and sometimes had hit her that she wanted that too. She giggled at herself for thinking such silly things though... she was just over 8 years old, not exactly 'young' anymore, or so she thought. She still felt young at heart and chased the thought of being 'old' out of her head.
She had heard about this quaint little place where mares go to be 'claimed' but the thought of being owned by someone just didn't settle with her right. She would agree to live with a stallion, but she would never be owned by one. She stomped her foot a little harder at that thought. Ari was a little stubborn like that and she chuckled at the thought of any stallion trying to own her. She would run this game... she would be the one to choose who she went home with. Not them.
She continued her way around, avoiding the different groups of mares around her. It seemed busy in this part of the land. The different conversations going on made her laugh and made her worry. She stopped to grab a bit of grass. It was nice and she enjoyed it. Then her mind started to wonder again. Maybe no stallion would want her and she could just leave and continue to be on her own forever.
Djinni does not quite belong here, but she can think of nowhere else that she needs to be. Without family, kingdom, or responsibilities to tie her down, the mare is apt to wander through Beqanna in search of something to amuse herself.
The Field should belong to those looking for a home and to those willing to offer them one, but Djinni is neither of those.
She strolls across the field on thick black legs, enjoying the sunlight and the way it looks as it shines down on her well-muscles back, turning the mahogany bay to nearly amber. She had seen a pair of Clydesdales once in her travels, and today she wears their looks: strong, foreboding, and traditionally masculine. The smile that lights up her blazed face when he sees the spotted mare is anything but though; Djinni looks positively giddy.
She prances toward the appaloosa with a spryness atypical to a creature as large as she is, and her smile is bright and contagious. “Your spots are beautiful,” she says, lowering her nose to gesture at the pattern across the mare’s coat. “I’ve never had spots before…do you mind?” Though she asks, she does not wait for permission, and with a ripple of bay skin, Djinni wears spots of her own. They are gold (matching the rings in her ears and bracelets around her ankles), and somewhat gaudy against the skill bay basecoat that she wears.
“Are you new to Beqanna?” She asks, looking curiously down at the other mare. She does not smell like any kingdom Djinni knows, and there are often strangers that appear in the wildlands and find their way to the Field. “I’m Djinni, by the way. What is your name?”
The spotted mare was lost in her thoughts. She could feel the sun warming her soul, but she still didn't want any part of the conversations going on with the other mares around her. Ari was never one to be 'in the groups' or chatting about. She munched on her grass some more and looked around and watched. A group of younger mares were laughing it up and running around like a love struck yearling. She found this amusing and somewhat fun. She snorted at herself for even considering going over there.
Just as Ari lowered her head back down, something approached her. It was a bit larger than her. She didn't even have time to react. "Your spots are beautiful" the draft mare said to her. Just as Ari was about to say thank you, she spoke again, asking "do you mind?" and right before her eyes, the draft has spots too. Beautiful gold, just like the gold things she wears on her body. Ari knew the horses here could have abilities, but she had never seen them in action. She was amazed, but strangely giddy about this wonderful mare. "No... I-I don't mind at all...."
This mare was a talker already, even though they just met. Ari was glad someone was talking to her. And she was glad it was not some nagging stallion wanting her to be his 8th mare in his slave herd. "Are you new ... Im Djinni ... your name?" she heard the mare say. "Yes. I am new... My name is Arivanya, but you can call me Ari." she paused for a moment, surprised at how comfortable she felt around her new friend. "Nice to meet you, Djinni. You have an amazing ability there..." Ari giggled a little inside. What was going on here?
He was in the feild already, maybe he would be able to recruit someone for his kingdom. The mock lands were dead, the mares anxious with the breeding season. He was finding that it was affecting himself as well. Making him a little less patient than he normally is. He needed to find something to do. Restlessness in a kingdom was never a good sign. And his in particular seemed beyond dead. Maybe he could cure that...
walking up to the two females he keeps his personal space personal. Moving to politely stay within site of both of them. It wasn't like he wanted to do anything other then have a legacy to leave behind. He nods in greeting to the two mares. I'm Phaedrus of the Dale. patiently he waits, quietly he muses over what is happening. He stays out of their way, not inturrupting their conversation. polite as always.
What are you ladies doing on this fine day? Bahh elequence, it was to ackward, he shifts tail flicking against his hocks. Nope that wasn't going to be used again. A line that may fit a more affible male, but for him... that just sounded moronic.
Phaedrus
DEATH GIVES US SLEEP, ETERNAL YOUTH, AND IMMORTALITY
“Oh good,” Djinni says ,reaching out to companionably tap Arivanya on the shoulder. She knows – surely she knows – that not everyone has a nonexistent area of personal space like she does, but she often forgets, or simply decides that she doesn’t care. The other spotted mare seems a nice sort, and Djinni smiles down at her with such ease that it is clear she is nearly always smiling.
“Ari,” she says aloud, “Ari. I like that. It’s a pretty name. ” Again she taps the other mare on the nose with her own brown muzzle, “Pretty like you.” She smiles again, open and easy, accepting the compliment about her ability with a shrug. It is something she has always had; something she has never lost, and so she is unable to fully appreciate it the way that others can. She might have said something more, but she is distracted by the approach of a stallion.
He is nearly as large as her own draft form, and the cobalt blue of his mane and tail are quite lovely. Djinni controls the urge to shift herself to match him (though it is a hard battle), and instead turns to him with a nod. He’s very polite, introducing himself and asking after them, which Djinni finds rather darling - especially in the current season.
“Just socializing,” she replies, “I saw Ari here, and I find her spots quite fetching, don’t you?” She pauses a moment, waiting for Phaedrus to acknowledge that yes, Arivanya’s spots are quite lovely, and then adds: “I’m Djinni, by the way.”
