"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
02-04-2020, 04:53 PM (This post was last modified: 02-12-2020, 01:43 AM by Leilan.)
We got older and I should have known that I’d feel colder when I walk alone
Once upon a time, there was a dragon in a forest. He’d buried himself in, waiting for the opportunity to snatch away any bypassing traveller, who might be unaware of the danger in the deep dark woods.
That was a long time ago, in a land far away.
The ice-scaled roan picks his way through the trees with little difficulty. This part of the forest, he happens to know well, because he spent a few anxious days here, trying to throw off his trail. He’d sought out this part in particular, because he did not want to be found by anyone; miniature heart attacks would otherwise follow him for days; this way, at the time none had come for him, he had a relative sort of peace.
The ice dragon doesn’t care very much for visitors in the moment either - though he wouldn’t shy away from them. He’s here because he doesn’t want to involve himself so much; a moment of reflection if you will before he dives back in again.
Of course, he’s never alone for long. Nostrils flare even before the frosted male turns to look who’s close; ice-coloured eyes scan the surrounding greenery, a white cold-induced condensation cloud barely visible from his nostrils as he does so; not strange had it been mid-winter, but perhaps now that it is mid-summer, one might see how it was a little odd - or not, depending on who they were and how observant they would be.
Leilan
no. 7 | ice forged in fire
A lousy starter for whoever wants it!
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
02-11-2020, 04:05 PM (This post was last modified: 02-12-2020, 11:36 AM by Alcinder.
Edit Reason: Closing a font tag!
)
A L C I N D E R
i go to seek a great perhaps
As soon as night falls, he runs for his life. More specifically ─ he flies.
And he goes, his blue-and-white feathered wings flapping despite his growing fatigue and the fiery burn in his muscles, until he can fly no more. Alcinder’s landing is not graceful, displaying for all the lack of practice he has with his wings, but still he remains unscathed save for the places where the Forest’s branches grasped hungrily for him as his falling body rocketed between their gnarled fingers. It’s with a loud thud that he lands upon the Forest floor. It’s still dark here, the rising sun not yet capable of reaching the earth, and Alcinder waits upon the summer-softened pine needles with wide, exploratory eyes and an adrenaline-fueled heartbeat.
Finally, after a countless number of minutes, he feels safe enough to move again; he rises hesitantly to his lanky appendages as quietly as can be, his silvered eyes darting here and there for the claw-footed beast or the Pangean aliens as he settles into the quiet of the Forest.
They do not appear to be here, and he cannot smell them on the summer wind ─
Finally, for the first time in months, he expels a sigh of relief.
But now that he has escaped from the well-guarded border of his sandstone canyon cell, Alcinder must find his way home. And, if his affinity for getting himself lost in the canyon tunnels of Pangea is any indicator, finding Loess won’t be as simple as walking in one direction until he just happens to find it. Taking a deep breath, the opaline colt looks from east to west and back again before nearly jumping out of his skin ─
Alcinder’s silver eyes meet with the ice-encrusted stallion’s blue ones, and for a moment his muscles grow taut with the intention of sprinting into the Forest, but then ─ “You smell like Loess!” the young colt exclaims, unable to keep the hope from seeping into his words.
“Can you help me? My name is Alcinder, and I’m trying to get home to my mom.”
@[Leilan] Escape attempt!""
neamrel
i have slipped the surly bonds of earth
and danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings
We got older and I should have known that I’d feel colder when I walk alone
It’s kind of funny how he escaped from Loess and still visits it - some might think he’d blame the land for the effects of that steal, but he knew who to blame instead - that said, even Arthas came around later on, although his shady ways of adding souls to his residency was something the frosted stallion had never been able to actually appreciate.
There’s even more irony in this spot in the forest; where he once ran from the hill kingdom, another runs towards it, but with the same purpose. As the ice dragon turns on his visitor, he has half the heart to shoo him; but the relief flooding from the youngster silences that train of thought, replacing it with an fast-track intercity that goes elsewhere completely. ”And here I was, being just about happy that I left it.” Seems, after all, he’s bound to return sooner than he thought. And he can’t forget the coincidence. Is it much different than with Beryl or is history just keen on repeating itself?
Studying the colt, it takes a moment for the name to register, the familiarity nagging at his mind a few moments. ”Oceane?” he asks the boy just to be sure. If this is the stolen child, then there are unfortunately a few rules he must abide by, still. ”You can’t go back directly, they’ll find you there. Gotta lay low for a while.” The dragon-stallion yawns, shaking his body. A ripple of scales seems to change his color underneath the ice, just a moment, much more silvery-white than the earlier silvery-bronze; then, he again looks only like a scaled horse as he relaxes a bit more. ”So. Fancy a trip, or do you wanna stay here?”
Leilan
no. 7 | ice forged in fire
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
There's a brief wave of something akin to annoyance that crosses the ice-stallion's face, but Alcinder pays it no attention. He barrels forward, sliding to a stop in front of the man and questions him about Loess; he has no time to waste here, no opportunity to use the manners that his Mama had continually prompted him to learn in his first few weeks of life. He knows she will forgive him, anyway, if this unknown stallion before him tells Oceane of the painted colt's lack of manners ─ he is, after all, forsaking them to return to her as swiftly as he can. He ears flick at a statement he doesn't understand, watching expectantly as pensiveness crosses over the stallion's face, and then ─ Oceane?
"Yes!" Alcinder squeals as this stranger-who-smells-like-home mentions his Mama. But then his excitement is gone just as swiftly as it had come when the nameless stallion tells him that he can't return home immediately. Confused, the painted colt purses his lips and pulls his oversize wings tight to his sides. "I would like to go home, Sir. Even if you could just show me the direction to go in─" the boy's throat tightens around his words and he coughs to push beyond the panic that threatens to rise in his chest.
"My mama will protect me when I get back, so it's okay if I go straight there. My daddy will, too, and he's a dragon, so I will be safe." He forces a hopeful, innocent smile at the man and shifts his weight from side to side, though occasionally his silver eyes flick to search the forest again for any sign of the claw-footed man or the aliens. He sees nothing, yet, but he knows he may not be this lucky forever. "Please?"
@[Leilan] ""
neamrel
i have slipped the surly bonds of earth
and danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings
We got older and I should have known that I’d feel colder when I walk alone
Ignoring most of the boy’s facial features - he’s used to being with kids and weirdly okay with it by now - the frosted roan takes the colt’s actions in with bemusement plastered onto his face. He waits for the excitement to cool off, though it only does so barely; just about long enough to remember some form of politeness, or so it seems.
”There’s rules about stealing, you know - they can claim you right back if you go too early. Trust me, I don’t like it either. I spent a week in this here spot when I escaped my stealing-land long ago.’” The draconic stallion grins a bit, though it comes with a sour aftertaste, evident in the way his brown eyes don’t join in when he does. He’s just about polite enough himself, not to mention it was Loess stealing him, and slightly proud of that fact. After all, the boy’s parents had nothing to do with it, as it was several kings before this one. A very different time in Beqanna. ”Take a breather, kiddo. I’ll get you home or die trying. In the meantime, let’s make sure you haven’t been followed.”
Putting his money where his mouth is, Leilan steps forward to sniff the boy and then walks a few paces to where his trail starts - but it is easy enough to see that there is no trail except through the sky, and the foliage is thick. ”You flew all this way?” he asks the colt, almost hesitantly, then shrugs. Well, he’s already somewhat-adopted the kid now, so there’s no way back. ”My name’s Leilan. I’m a dragon too, if that makes you feel any better.” He shrugs, like it’s really no big deal. And it isn’t, to him. Castile was once the very first dragon, which was impressive, but having seen Ruinam, and himself, and sometimes traces of others - didn’t Tephra have one, or maybe they were Loessians - with more dragons spawning each birthing season, he stopped being overly impressed. And perhaps, perhaps he’d just asked the fairies to complete his slow metamorphosis a little quicker, because he wanted to keep up. Just maybe. But that didn’t make him any more impressive than he used to be with the scales and teeth.
But hey, anyway - there’s a kid to watch out for; Castile and Oceane’s kid, even.
And since Al’s not yet being followed… ”Almost midnight, Cinderella. Let’s say hi to your parents.” With that - and an obviously mischievous smirk on his face - he starts their trek in a westward direction. The path is not straight for a land-bound horse, but he knows the way in this part of the Forest well enough. He could of course, opt to fly - but the way Alcinder’s little wings seem to drag just a little when he’s not paying attention to upholding them, suggests enough muscle strain for today. Besides, there’s the rule - they have to check if the Pangeans actually hadn’t paid enough attention to this little culprit. Soon as he isn’t followed or searched for well enough though, they will be free to openly cross to Loess.
Leilan
no. 7 | ice forged in fire
@[Alcinder] end here continue in Loess? Or you can make a post saying he rushes forward at some point to make it work with your current Loess thread
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.