"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
Most days, most days stay the sole same
Please stay, for this fear it will not die
Down low, down amongst the thorn rows
Weeds grow, through the lilies and the vines
She is, and has always been, a floater. Since the day she came from her mother’s womb as a sun-freckled, strawberry-roan darling, her heart has longed for travel. Perhaps her parents ought to have recognized this restless nature of hers, the shuffle of her feet in long meetings and the way she tarried near the borders of the Jungle. Perhaps they should have noticed this, and warned her from swearing herself to the sisterhood.
But they did not, and she wears the angry red slash of betrayal upon her chest as a reminder of that fact.
Ah, well, I can’t blame them over much now; they are rather dead, Gods rest their souls.
A wry smile unfurls across the lips of Mother Spring, a buxomous and sensual image. Her thoughts wander to and fro just as she does now, her long, white-birch legs carrying her between Mythical kingdoms. Or rather, what used to be the Mythical kingdoms - even as the separations of traits ceased to exist, Noori found herself abiding in one of the three: the Desert, where Vanquish lived once more; the Valley, where her once-lovers might be found; and the Dale, where she thrives best, surrounded by greenery and not a care in the world.
After a long stay in the Dewdrop Deserts and a happy visit with her almost adoptive father, Noori has restarted her little trek once more. She heads north, leaving flower petals and a warm, loving feeling in her wake. She hopes those insignificant creatures in her wake enjoy that sensation; she has long since given up the chase of returning to normalcy, to the life and body she once knew where children did not galavant about her and grown men did not fall in stupors of love.
Alas, this is her curse and her blessing - the Spring between Winter and Summer.
A certain aura of excitement shrouds the Dale as she enters it (without stopping at the borders - her scent ought to be well known here, though perhaps not her face). A cocked brow and a twitched ear brings Noori out of her trancic thoughts, and her nostrils flare. A familiar scent is somehow more evident in the land today, and she can’t exactly place why.
Raising her dished nose, the woman-tree calls softly for the scent she smelled, luminous green eyes scanning the horizon eagerly. Further investigation is required, and, oh, Noori has always been one for melodrama.
noori
Everyone come play!! But especially Shah and Ea because y'all asked for it
I'm sure that everyone accidentally meeting in the Dale is totally plausible... heh ^_^
Spring has come again, shedding bright sunlight and new blooms upon his Desert home. This has always been one of his favorite times of year, when everything is new and fresh and the children come out to play. His own children are growing, nearing adulthood now. But still, they are children. He thinks perhaps they always will be to him. Illum is more content to remain close to home, to spend his days with him as they learn together the extent of their shared gift. So many good things had come with the birth of the twins, but, most importantly, he had been shown that his abilities were not something to be feared and reviled. How could someone as good and perfect as his son be tainted in any way?
His daughter is another story. He loves her as he loves Illum, but she is more wild and unpredictable. She is, he thinks, taking far more after her grandmother than either he or Ilka. He worries for her sometimes. A girl like she could never stay out of trouble for long.
As it happens, he is out trying to find her when he comes across a familiar scent accompanied by a trail of unexpected greenery. This makes him forget his original mission entirely (he is certain Heartfire would be fine, she seems to have a knack for getting out of that aforementioned trouble all too easily) as he begins to follow the path of withering flowers, already knowing who he would find at the end of it.
He is barely paying attention when he leaves the Deserts, but his arrival at the border of the Dale gives him pause. Still, after only a moment’s hesitation, he continues on. Hopefully they would forgive him this trespass. If not, he could only hope his sister would vouch for him.
Certainly she would. Maybe. Of course, this was the sister who had threatened him with mutilation by thorn at their first meeting. One could never tell with her.
When finally he finds her, he sighs with relief. He had been fairly certain she was who he had been following, but there was always the faint (but distinct) possibility that he had been mistaken. Wouldn’t be the first time.
Stepping through the trees, a grin curves his lips as he calls out to her, betraying his presence without a second’s hesitation. ”Noori! It’s been a while.”
Of course she knew of her siblings. The older ones, at least; once Ea had left the Jungle, she had mostly stayed out of contact with her parents. She had never met the older siblings - there were so many of them - but Scorch had told her of them briefly. Noori and Kaida - her first born, twin girls who had fled the Jungle at a young age and bore the red slash of a traitor. Scorch didn’t like to speak of them - it was obvious, even when Ea was so young, that Scorch regretted the way she had raised them. Simeon - her first son, gentlemanly and, frankly in Ea’s eyes, weak. Content with the mediocrity of herd life. Shahrizai - loving, relaxed. He loved Scorch and Hestoni and visited them often. Ea had seen him several times in the Jungle - he was easy to spot without a tail - but she had never bothered to officially meet him. Meeting new people, even her siblings, was of no interest to her.
But she comes when she is called - one of the many new duties she has had to take on as queen. Sela is not quite as willing to follow her mother as Ea was Scorch. Scorch had already begun training Ea at Sela’s age, but Ea wouldn’t do the same for her daughter. She would, however, keep her close to her side. Or at least try.
She sees her tailless brother first. He smells strongly of the Desert, and she wonders briefly if he is here on a diplomatic visit before she sees another. A red and white tree-girl, with flowers trailing behind her. “Sela!” She calls as the young girl begins to wander off in another direction. “MOM,” Sela whines, trotting back to her side. “I NEVER GET TO HAVE ANY FUN.” Ea ignores her, only nudging her daughter closer to her side before they set off towards the pair.
Ea reaches them, and soon realizes it was the tree-girl who called for her. She smells vaguely of different places – the Valley, the Desert, the Dale most noticeably. “Hello,” she says, calmly, “welcome to the Dale. I’m Ea, but you must have known that when you called.” It was meant to sound like a joke, but instead comes out forced and egotistical. “This is my daughter, Sela,” she says as Sela lies down and plants herself in a huff next to her mother. Ea continues to ignore her protest. She looks between them, expecting an explanation for why they’re here.
Ea
