"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
01-30-2022, 08:02 PM (This post was last modified: 01-30-2022, 08:04 PM by bolder.)
Out of the direct sunlight, Bolder naps.
He had seen this shape a few times in Hyaline. It wasn’t quite a cougar, a type of feline predator that he had seen before in the foothills of Loess. It was darker, larger. Mazikeen had called it a panther, or sometimes, an Atrox. Bolder found he rather liked this shape. It wasn’t quite as large as some of the other predators that he had tried, and this shape allowed him to easily rest amongst the warped branches and thick canopies in the Forest.
Bolder could nap, not have to worry about the sun turning his skin into shadow, and casually listen for anything traveling below. A round, gold-tipped ear flicked lazily towards the source of once such sound; it was a horse. The cadence of it told the young shapeshifter that much.
Stirring himself from a light sleep, Bolder opened one silver eye to glance down.
It opened lazily, prompted by the other, and both suddenly peered down to watch a white-maned stallion pass through this copse of woods. It tugged at his memory, and as Bolder continued to stare, the familiar gold-okapi stripes glinting off the copper hide struck him. He knew those stripes. They marked all of his siblings.
Rising, the large feline leapt from one branch to another, keeping pace with the brother that walked on the ground. The forest would end soon, and the moment that Saffron left the shadows, Bolder would be unlikely to follow. So the panther growled, hoping to freeze winged stallion as he sunk his claws into a tree and made his way downward. He was proud of this coat - pitch-black with gold edging instead of his usual copper-hued changes - but now regretted the choice. There was nothing of his natural form in it. Bolder would change in a moment, but in the excitement of stumbling across a long-lost sibling, he remained as a panther.
The only thing unusual about the approaching predator were the silver eyes that glinted menacingly towards Saffron.
He is restless, but that is nothing new. Ever since the strange dream that he wasn’t sure had been a dream at all, he hasn’t been able to stay in one place long. The odd, pale tines that creep along his shoulders and face ensure it. Demand it.
It wanted him to find company, so he avoided it instead. That was the easier part. But he could not keep himself from water. Or from sun. He was beginning to believe the deep shadows of the forest might make it retreat, but it would not let him stay there for long. He has tried so many times. That is why he had left Taiga this morning. So little sun filtered through those trees that it forced him constantly from his home.
He would not be able to stay in the forest long either, but still he tries. He tries until, even without conscious thought, his feet begin moving once more. When he realizes it, a soft sight escapes his lips. The breath burns his throat, but he has grown used to it by now.
Saffron is nearly at the edge of the forest when he hears the growl. His reluctant footsteps slow to a halt, the forced desire to keep moving forward overridden by something much stronger. Curiosity.
He peers around until something tells him to look up. To look into the trees. When his gaze locks with pale silver eyes, he frowns. He should be afraid. Only a fool wouldn’t be afraid when staring into the eyes of a large predator. But clearly he is a fool, because it is not fear he feels.
No, what he feels is… familiarity. But why? He knows that stare. Somewhere deep down, he recognizes it viscerally. His frown only deepens as he remains unmoving and unafraid, trying to figure out how he knows those eyes.
And then it clicks and his own gaze widens. It had been far too long since he had looked into those eyes, but he should have known them immediately. He hates speaking. It hurts. But his surprise makes him forget the discomfort, though his voice comes out hoarse and raspy. “Bolder?”
02-27-2022, 07:48 PM (This post was last modified: 02-27-2022, 07:50 PM by bolder.)
Bolder peers into his brother's green eyes and for the first time since leaving the Taiga, he feels homesick. Noel had come to Hyaline over the years, always bringing him news of Saffron and Bravely, letting him know that his older sisters had finally ventured out into the world, that he had a younger brother. It had always seemed like enough to Bolder; he never felt compelled to return to the place that he had felt cast out of.
His siblings were alive and making their own way in the world, just as he was.
But those lost years suddenly feel like a punch to the gut. There had been a price to pay, and the shapeshifter sees it clearly now. Gone are the gangly lines of adolescence and the high-pitched tenor of their youth. Saffron rasps out his name and alarm crosses his dark feline face. It’s a ripple of shadow, a subtle shift in the light, and suddenly there is a copper pegasus where there had been a predator only moments before (more proof of their separation, of the years away, because as a youngling, Bolder could never even dream of what he achieves now).
Glancing over his brother, he takes note of the other more worrisome changes. The white, branch-like things that sprout from between Saffron’s shoulders, that creep along his neck and towards his face. His brother frowns and there is a mirror reflection of Bolder’s moon-marked face, nearly identical. Unsure of what to immediately say, he offers a confirmation to the other pegasus’ question. "Saffron.”
Change is the way of the world, and Saffron, always the most pragmatic, had accepted that as fact. That hadn’t stopped him from aching for their broken trio. From missing the closeness they had shared as children. Nor had it stopped him from trying to sneak out to see him. It’s exactly what he had intended to do before he was snatched into the nightmare that brought this curse to him.
Since that night however, he has only tried to live with his new reality. They had all been so close once, and now he could not even hug them for fear of the hungry branches trying to root into his siblings as well.
As the large cat drops from the tree and morphs into Bolder, a pang echoes through Saffron’s chest. For all that he is no longer lanky with youth, Bolder’s face is even more familiar to him than his own. He notes the changes as his eyes roam over his brother, but the similarities are far greater than any changes he sees. He wants to smile. Wants it so badly that his lips begin to curl before the pain reminds him it’s not worth it.
As he stares at the brother he hasn’t seen in far too long, there is so much he wants to say. He wants nothing more than to pull him into an embrace, but he does not. Just as with his other siblings, he doesn’t dare get too close. Finally Saffron settles with something simple. He’s not sure he could manage long sentences yet anyway. Not when every word grates so painfully across his throat. “I’ve missed you.”
The question is there, bright in his silver eyes as a full moon. Bolder looks over his triplet sibling again, a sweeping gaze that takes in the unusual growths and the way that there is something pained behind his brother’s hazel eyes. It feels like a lifetime since he has last looked into them, and yet, it feels like nothing has changed at all.
Noel had brought him news over the years of his brothers and sisters. She had told him what was happening in their family, and while Bolder contented himself with the thought that they were fine, Saffron looked anything but. There is concern written all over the moon-marked face that peers at the flaxen-haired stallion. Bolder had been aware that both Bravely and Saffron would have grown as he did; it just never occurred to him that growing wouldn’t mean that they had grown as he had.
Saffron looks like their father - perhaps the one child that most looks like Nashua - and while that summons some of his old hurt, it is not his brother that he is angry at. It is the fact that his brother looks as if he has endured something and their father hasn't done anything about it. ”I -,” Bolder begins and then for the first time in years, finds himself at a loss for words.
How did he explain all the time that had passed?
What could he say about never returning to Taiga?
"I’ve missed you, too.” Bolder tells his brother, and reaches his mahogany muzzle towards the other chestnut. As if picking up on Saffron’s short sentences and unable to ignore his worry (even if he long ago abandoned a right to it), he asks, "What happened?”
The concern that etches itself across Bolder’s face pierces Saffron sharply. He wishes so desperately he could tell him it’s unneeded. Wishes there was a way to cover these insidious pale tines so that expression would never have had to settle. But Saffron cannot. He can only work to smooth his own expression instead. Can only try to pretend that the pity does not bother him even as it claws away his own insides.
Just like Bolder, he can’t explain away all the time that had passed. Can’t give any reason that matters why he had never visited him in Hyaline. How does one explain about the intense shame and guilt and worry his ailment had brought him?
How does he even begin to tell him about everything else that has happened?
Even if speaking did not already make his throat feel as though it were being burned by every word, telling Bolder of what had happened between their parents would. Saffron isn’t even sure he could adequately explain it, though he would try. Bolder deserves to know.
Habit almost makes him stretch to meet Bolder’s tentative foray with his muzzle, but as his lips try to curl into an automatic smile, the pain reminds him not to. Instead, he draws away, maintaining space between them. It’s hard. The curse wants him to touch his brother, but Saffron would not give in to it. Not in this. Not when it is his sibling who would suffer for it.
Instead he offers Bolder the briefest smile, pain making it disappear as swiftly as it had come. He takes a moment to respond to Bolder’s question, but when he does, Saffron’s hoarse words are steady and measured. “A lot. I’m… okay.” He pauses, eyes slipping closed. He needs to tell his brother about their parents more than he needs to tell him about his own woes. “Mom and dad… aren’t.”
03-27-2022, 06:47 PM (This post was last modified: 03-27-2022, 06:48 PM by bolder.)
Bolder watches as Saffron draws away from him and rage instantly fills the empty space between them.
What had Nashua told his siblings? Had he said that since Bolder was a shapeshifter, he truly was a monster? And worse, did his brother actually believe it?
His gray eyes stare at the space where his twin brother had stood moments before, and Bolder knows he is a fool for thinking that this reunion could have been a happy one. Their father had probably told them the entire history of their accursed bloodline and they all blamed him for it. Saffron hadn’t seemed to mind when he changed color, or the length of his wings (though he seemed to mind when he had tried to trip him once by their favorite take-off log in play). But maybe this is what time has changed.
Those memories are perhaps too far in the past.
There is a flickering smile from his flaxen-maned sibling, there and gone, while Bolder stands there, trying to think of a creature to shift into that might better hide his anger. The tips of his wings begin to darken, and eventually, they become overcome by shadows. They ebb where they meet Bolder’s mahogany barrel. "What do you mean?” he demands, speaking harshly to the brother who he had learned to fly with. "Mother never said anything,” during her last visit, he means.
She had come a few times, to speak with him as well as their grandmother, Ryatah.
He grows darker and darker, almost becoming a shadow entirely, becoming consumed by his anger.
"There are those things on you, Saffron. What are they?”
As he watches the anger and hurt wash across his brother’s expression, something inside him withers. He swallows back the guilt, wishing he could take it on himself instead. He does not know its cause though - that his brother believes Saffron had pulled away because he believed Bolder somehow cursed - or the guilt would have twisted even more sharply inside him. He would have explained the truth.
But he does not know, so he cannot correct those painful misassumptions.
As he watches the darker color writhe across Bolder’s wings, Saffron wishes desperately he could offer his brother a comforting touch while knowing it is impossible. Instead he can only offer it in the sorrow of his gaze and his broken words. “She… wouldn’t have,” he replies scratchily, the words coming more easily now. They are still painful, but practice seems to make this less difficult to force out. “She wouldn’t want you… to worry.” He pauses, throat working as he forces his own upset back down. “Mom and dad… aren’t together anymore.”
Saffron’s concern only deepens as his brother’s body is nearly swallowed by shadow. He hadn’t wanted to cause Bolder distress, but he had deserved to know. Perhaps it would have been better coming from another sibling. From one that could touch him and comfort him properly. One that wasn’t cursed as Saffron is.
And then Bolder stops dancing around the other problem, asking about Saffron’s deepest shame. He had expected it. How could he not, when it sprouts so plainly from his body? But still he shrinks in upon himself, wishing Bolder hadn’t asked. “They’re contagious,” he says swiftly, eyes dropping to the ground. A warning and an admission. But it’s not enough, he knows. And this is Bolder. If anyone could understand, it would be him. “I…” he swallows painfully hard, gaze darting, refusing to meet his sibling’s eyes. “I failed… at something. And was cursed.”
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