"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
It's been raining all night.... everything is damp and dripping, weighed down with wetness. The bulky stallion is as black as ink, slick like oil as he thumps around in the dim light of the approaching dawn. He moves without silence amongst the oaks and beeches in this particular patch of woods dotting the massive meadow territory. He knows exactly where he is once he spots the scattering stags in the distance. The Meadow.
Oranges, pinks and blues settle on the foggy horizon lining the edge of the vast grassy knolls to the west end of the meadow. He comes out of the trees and into the open with a wee bit of reluctance. Purples are soon to join the ribbons of dawnlight streaking across the serrated sunrise. Chemdog has been traveling throughout the night in the comfortable cover of darkness. It was a moonless night and thus made it perfect for spying and stalking and all sorts of other fun activities like such, but now the day has arrived and there is no more night to cloak his movements from prying eyes. He is forced to stop his recon of this and that (secrets, you know).
His hesitancy is put to rest when he realizes he is alone for the time being. He breaks out into the swelling orange glow of the sun's tip. Beads of spring rain litter his speckled coat as he slips free of the leaves and branches and the light kisses his white splashed face. He reaches his scruffy whiskered muzzle into the humid air to give the surrounding scents a sniff.
“Hmm...” His voice growls low as he plucks any information he can from the passing winds. He decides to leave himself right here on the edge of the open meadow, grazing innocently enough with his sharp eyes peeled to his peripheries. Someone will come along soon enough...meanwhile it is smart to appear as though you're as inconspicuous as the rest of the mouth-breathers.
The morning sun rose easily into the sky, peeping into the foliage where the young filly slept. As its rays whispered along her eyelids, they fluttered open, blinking at the brightness of the sunrise. All that night the rain had pounded down all about her and her hiding place beneath an oak tree, she was mostly dry but patches of her already dark coat were damp, almost black. She breathed deeply, the scent of the spring earth soaking up the water was such a wonderful thing. As she reached her forelegs out to stretch she contemplated food and her belly grumbled in agreement. Perhaps she could even meet new friends! With a quick shake that sent her still almost baby short mane into all sorts of tangles, she stepped into the growing warmth of the sun. As she moved through the forest she tried to take in all its beauty, the birds signing in the branches above her, the skittish doe who ushered her curious baby away from her as she wove towards the meadow ahead. With a small buck, spring fever filling her body, she began a slow canter through the underbrush, she wanted to feel alive. With the warmth of the day upon her dappled back she lept forward, feeling as graceful as the deer she had come across, although knowing she still held all of the gangling legs from foalhood. She would grow to become a handsome woman, but for the time being she was still a child in every way. Not paying attention to her surroundings, she broke clear of the trees, sunlight blinding her for a mere moment. As her eyes adjusted however she squealed in surprise. Ahead of her, too close to stop, was a wall of black and white. Headlong, she plowed into the other horse, crashing into a heap of brown, sweaty fur and legs.
Walkin' between the raindrops, Riding the aftershock with you.
I can still hear you saying -
you would never break the chain
She shouldn’t be here. In fact - she should be anywhere but here. Lupei would tell her to keep busy, perhaps even suggest she go do some work for the Chamber, despite the fact that she really had no rank or purpose there. Her heart tells her she should be invisible, hiding away in some unknown corner to gather herself and what little respect she lost at Killdare’s minor gathering. Her mind whispers that she should be out searching for the strange palomino, gaining strength and allies to see his eventual downfall. The cacophony of voices in her head is overwhelming, so she does exactly what she knows she shouldn’t: she avoids everything and heads directly to the meadow with hopes that there will be someone to lend an ear.
The night had given her ample time to go unseen, its endless dark covering her and giving her a sense of invisibility as she’d trekked carefully away from her kingdom and broke through the outlying cover of the field to happen upon the unusually empty meadow. Now, however, the skin of the sky was being drawn back to reveal a pleasing sunrise, scattering warm light across the earth and giving away all those who’d previously been slinking around unseen. Dacia herself chooses to remain viewable, her body melting to a soft orange that bled to a peach pink in her mane and tail, the very tips dipped in a subtle, orchid blue. Something of a sunrise herself. She’s a pretty picture, touchable curves and a sharp eye, matched with agile, slender legs and a fine, velvet nose. A product of good breeding with the promise of a good time.
These are her gifts and she uses them well. With each carefully placed step she finds herself making tracks around the edge of the gathering lands, bright purple eyes alighting softly on one horse before jumping to the next. Each one seems to have come with some ulterior motive, whispering voices passing like murmuring water over stones. For once, she’s desperate for company and sadly everyone seems entertained. How unfortunate. That is, until a high squeal breaks her concentration and has her head jerking around to find its source. There - some feet away - stands a massive, black stallion, breakfast disturbed by a heap of brown legs and fur. Without knowing it, Dacia senses the trouble that could arise from such a meeting, and her gait lengthens so that she finds herself enjoined with the two rather quickly.
“My, what a mess we have here. Are you alright?” She coos to the filly, eyes locking on the rogue brute to gauge his reaction. She wasn’t a fighter, but she was willing to step in if any trouble arose. The moment stills in the air around them, silence falling on the trio while she stands at the ready, body tense with excitement.
04-24-2016, 11:49 AM (This post was last modified: 04-24-2016, 11:49 AM by Chemdog.)
Here comes one now....
Just.
Let.
It.
Happen.
Thunk!
Chem does not budge when she crashes into his behemoth frame. He only laughs and draws his head up, ears perked and hair bedraggled down his bone-white face. Grass hangs lazily from his smirk and he reaches out to touch her hip but leaves his nose inches away, letting his whiskers prickle onto her soft fur. “Well hi!” His rumbly voice his pitched and chipper, his smile isn't so...twisted (?) today. He normally has a plan. He's always got something turning and lighting and burning in the back of his dark mind. Not now, though. Believe it or not he did not anticipate having a pretty young girl fall onto him for now reason. “You alri-” His voice bubbles throw a chuckle, but is left unfinished. He can hear the leaves rustling from another's approach. The honey of her scent gives her feminine gender away immediately. He cares not to pick through the details of her smells right now though and could care less where she is from. His head lifts, along with his long black ears . He finishes chewing whats in his mouth and nods quaintly, “What a mess indeed...” His teal eyes trickle down her face and then to her chest. His gaze covers her brightly adorned frame and then back to her violet eyes. He's distracted for a moment and forgets the young mare piled on the ground. The situation floods back to him and he tilts the right side of his face to the mare below, exposing one eye from behind that thick veil of locks, “You good? No broken limbs, right?” He doesn't go to close again, there's something about the motherly mare at his shoulder than makes him a little rigid feeling. He's not quite sure what it is, really.
He can smell the faint currents of the Chamber. His inner-self grins greedily. My my, they're everywhere. His face betrays nothing of his delight in the smell of pine on her fur. He looks to the colorful mare, suspicion flitting in the bright eye just before his forelock tumbles over it once more. He shakes and tosses it out of the way, letting his hair settle wildly down the bridge of his pale nose.
“I'm Chem – er, well, Chemdog. But you know...too long and all.” He splits his attention between the two, moving his eyes and ears to focus on each one equally (one at a time because he is a horse not a chameleon).
It had all happened so fast, the crash, the fall and before she knew it, a voice rumbled above her. There was a hint of danger about this stud who towered above her, something in the way he held himself, confident, almost cocky. The smile that tugged at the corners of his lips seemed slightly.... Toxic? More so than any other horse she had encountered in her short time upon this earth. It made her wary, but though her gut told her that this man was not one to be trusted, she pushed the feeling away. She was imagining things, maybe she had hit her head on her way to the ground. He seemed concerned for her welfare, and as she began to untangle herself, she began a response, "I'm alright, I thin-"
She had risen to her haunches, ready to spring back to her feet, when a second smell washed across her muzzle. It was a sweet scent, one that had a sort of calming aura in it, quite the opposite of the massive painted stallion who still cast a shadow upon her. She reminded her of a long forgotten mother, if only by the smell of her. She too, seemed concerned for her bodily well being, though perhaps in a more sincere manner. The mare was striking, perhaps more so that the stallion, though he was a picture of ruggedness. Her coat of many colours seemed to glow and shine under the early morning rays, and Helovia was mesmerized by it.
Abruptly, the little bay lurched to her feet, feeling more than a little inadequate around the handsome horses beside her. The stud, and what a stud he was, introduced himself and Helovia couldn't help but giggle. What a strange name, she thought to herself. "I'm Helovia," She answered with a nod, "It's a little bit of a mouthful I guess, but it's what I've got" she glanced to the other mare, again captured by her ethereal beauty. With all the innocence of the child that she was, she spoke again, "What's your name?"
OOC": SOOOO Sorry guys, I had most of this written up and then got uber busy.... <3
Walkin' between the raindrops, Riding the aftershock with you.
She hopes she makes the moment tense. What a bitter end this poor girl could meet if there weren’t horses like Dacia about, flinging themselves into situations they should most definitely stay out of. But the tangerine dream of a mare is probably not the most wise one of them all, her youth betraying her sensibilities more often than naught. Chemdog’s eyes rake across her and she hates that she likes it; almost wishes he would do it again but he’s turned his attention back to the bay filly at his feet. He must seem like a god to the youngling, towering above her with that cold, blue stare. To Dacia’s surprise, the little thing seems unperturbed by her current situation.
“I’m Helovia!” She chirps, charming in a way that Dacia wishes she could have been when she was her age. Her orange mouth twists into a reluctant smile. “I’m Dacia.” She tells her, stepping back to give Helovia space so that she can rise again. She’s all words and actions, this one, excited by the idea of company and odd creatures. The danger has passed and for her, everything seems alright again. Why should she fear the unknown? Helovia hasn’t been greeted by death yet, hasn’t been twisted by the brutal reality that not all Beqanna’s inhabitants were as charming or as lovely as the two that stood beside her now.
“Just what are you doing out here, all by yourself?” She questions, inflection light as if she were directing the query to the young filly. But her amethyst eyes have hardened and they rest upon Chemdog, head tilting slightly to try and see past the polite exterior. She doesn’t trust it. “Who are you, really?” She thinks, settling in to hear the explanation.
05-10-2016, 05:31 PM (This post was last modified: 05-28-2016, 02:58 PM by Chemdog.)
When the chameleon mare steps back Chem follows suit by gently rocking back a few steps, his bones creaking and popping quietly as he does. Her name makes his ears perk up, he recognizes that name from somewhere. It's the name of an ancient place – a magical place, even more magical than here. So magical sounding that he was sure it was mythological completely and that the old storytellers were frankly full of shit. But the name still settles weirdly in his mind...so he may pluck it out later and go over just what he really thinks about it. “Lovely name Helovia, very 'princessy'” He bats his lashes beneath the heap of forelock spilling over his face and flits his head up dramatically, like a said princess might do. A motherly tone slices through what he assumes to be his well working charm. He's reminded again of her strong presence, the pine pitch smell on her fur stimulating his mind to become swallowed up in her for just a second or two. His eyes find her, his grin subtly widening, her stare seems to communicate something much stronger than even her assertive tone. He drops half of his grin and offers an entertained smirk, tossing his forelock to fall awkwardly backwards and reveals his bright eyes.
Who is anyone, really? His glare responds, but really neither one can be sure of what the other is contemplating. His arrogant nature makes him believe she just might be as taken with his teenage-boy pervert-eqsue weirdness as he is by how sassy and full of bossyness she is. He says nothing and slowly drags his eyes back to the filly.
“ Yeah, where you from little lass?” His voice his calm and velvet like the night sky.
