"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 soft blue-gray light of a dark morning highlighted the edges of the scenery. It’s lateness this morning due to the shorter days and heavy dark clouds lining the horizon. The cool temperature overnight lingered, accentuated with the brisk dampness of heavy fog, drastically nippier than the summer heat of yesterday. It rained off and on through the night, revitalizing and feeding thirst deprived foliage, pooling on the hardened soil. The temperature made for a restless uncomfortable evening and so a golden vixen had found herself here, a place that had been an often overlooked transient gateway to the more popular meadow. This dawn was an exception, her objective to keep warm by traveling and thus took a different path, more for the sake of movement than a particular destination, weaving through thick vegetation, exploring its uncharted uniqueness. A saturated palomino pelt slowly colourized as the light of daybreak continued to strengthen and illuminate the forest, like sliding the saturation adjustment of an image from greyscale to colour. The fog more defined in the brightness, dampened the scents of previous visitors. And hearing limited by the noisy sounds of moisture meeting objects, as it drips off leaves and splashes on the ground, and the chatter of busy birds. Each hoof fall brushing boisterously on grass and branches before squishing into the wet topsoil thinly covering a drought hardened earth. The trees grew densely off the common trail, their limbs intertwining above, offering some protection should it rain again. The air was awfully still, her breath loud as she quickly exhaled to squeeze between two trees. Their bark felt sharp against her icy barrel, stinging more than it should. The game trail Ashara had followed, much to her disappointment, seemed to be a dead end.
If you're ever gonna find a silver lining It's gotta be a cloudy day
you're metophorical gin and juice so come on give me a taste of what its like to be next to you
Death. Sometimes that was a very perfect means to an end, Kirin thought so. He had even taught this lesson a time or two and he was no stranger to the dark game that some never played. Shame. Of course those someones were not often company the lavender leviathan kept but all the same, they had their purposes too. Parts to play in the grand scheme of things no doubt. He just liked to coax them on that path, fiddle where he could to create outcomes in fate he found most amusing.
The quiet soothes him, the gentle dribble of moisture leaving the cradles of emerald from which they were so delicately embraced. Autumn was once again leaking to the surface of the world and with it was the season- a most glorious time of year.
Kirin sat smugly in the treetops, watching through reflecting hazel eyes as one lost looking golden mare approached. He can't say he's ever seen her about these parts but there are so many faces to see, few that garner remembrance. At least not from him. No, he doesn't know her but that mattered very little, he didn't need to know her at all. He knew plenty of women already and this one did not strike him as a face he would bother chisling into his memory. Not yet at least, maybe she would cry especially spectacular, let's not get our hopes up though.
He didn't need to know her for what he had in mind, the faint scent of estrus tickling the hairs in his nose and awakening a vicious thirst within him. Like a springtrap he breaks free from the canopy of cover, tilting to the ground with his great wings outstretched. The soggy earth melts beneath his feet as he touches down, looming before her as some fine feathered angel might. "Are you lost?" He asks, dripping sticky sweet honey as he speaks, a chorus of fine tenor to match the fine features of his handsome face.
The sudden boisterous racket of disturbed leaves and the movement of air causes the unsuspecting femme to spook, her toes momentarily lifting of the ground, her body rigid and recoiling on it’s haunches ready to spring. But her fear quickly turns to a laugh of relief as the threat reveals itself, descending on the ground. Her amber pools take in the marvelous creature before her, his unusual colouring, intriguing. His wings suited him, and although she’d met a few mystics in her two years here they were still peculiar and slightly unnerving. She smiled sheepishly in embarrassment and chuckles at his question. “No, not lost. Just exploring. I’m sure I could find my way back.” although now that she thinks about it, a hint of doubt crosses her mind. “With the war over and everyone seeking alliances, it seemed like a perfect time to explore. I’ve only been in Beqanna two years, and of those years with the war going on I haven’t ventured much outside the kingdom and the field. I guess having wings means you never get lost?” She babbles, the adrenaline from the first startle still coursing through her veins causing slightly rushed speech. She was naïve. Every experience and encounter since coming here had been pleasant, even revealing her dark secret to her comrade had gone surprisingly well. War was just a word to her, something she never had the displeasure of seeing first hand or experiencing. Her kingdom remained neutral and unaffected and every equine, magical or otherwise had been a delight so why should she fear this beautifully coloured steed? She had no reason not to trust him.
If you're ever gonna find a silver lining It's gotta be a cloudy day
you're metophorical gin and juice so come on give me a taste of what its like to be next to you
A curl of her body supports the trace of fear that briefly leaves her when she sees what he is. Too bad she cannot see who he is, for that would be a different story entirely. Though it rattled his cage when his face was unknown it did add a certain allure to the game. Less screaming and fighting though, less kicks and bites but you can’t have it all. That uncertainty gave him the proverbial upper hand, that unknown could lead a woman to stray just enough, let her guard down low and by the time she knew what was what- he’d have breached it.
She rattles on about exploration, tedious drivel of words leaving lightheartedly from her sooty maw. Kirin refrained from rolling his eyes because truthfully he did not care, of course he hoped she was lost but in the end that too did not matter. Of course she has an idea that she could find her way back if she wanted to, can she? Not as well as he could certainly, avian creatures had the advantage of a bird’s eye view.
Then the prattle delves into the sinister reaches of War and his silver eyes flash maybe once in this time. The sickly sweet, metallic smell of blood still lingered in the earth. Stretches of carrion could be found along the Valley floor and even still a random carcass or two washed ashore with the tide. These he had inspected, poked at, prodded, with no inclination of who it was or who it used to be. He invited the others to observe the spectacle of bloated, broken flesh and encouraged them to become familiar with the face of death.
When she finally finishes he sighs, feigning interest instead of relief. “That’s a pity really, Beqanna is so beautiful.” That was not entirely a lie for it had many reaches that were beyond the comprehension of beauty, still home was best in his eyes- it always would be. “Of course wings are very helpful, bird’s eye view you know? Hard to get lost unless there is too much cloud cover. I can find my way home from practically anywhere.” He flicks the idea away with a gesture of lavender plumage.
“What about you though? Think you could trace your steps back now?” He inched closer as he spoke, tucking his wings to his silken sides. “What do they call you, your friends?” The question purrs from his lips as he curls towards her with interest, nostrils flaring as he nears her flesh. “I’m Kirin, it’s so terribly good to see you.”
That it was. It was terribly good she had explored her way right to him.
Yes of course he wouldn’t get lost, what a silly question, she scolds herself, but he humours her with an answer anyway. Her smile disappears as he closes the space between them, far too close for her comforts, and his tone causes uneasiness in the pit of her stomach. Had she given him the wrong impression? She blames herself, rethinking her reactions and words searching for something that might have been interpreted the wrong way. Although she could appreciate that he was good-looking, symmetrical, and was probably used to mares swooning over him, she was certainly not interested or attracted to. Even the masculine scent was displeasing. Her honey-hued ears pinned back at the unwanted attempt. If she had been at all drawn to the other gender she wouldn’t be an 8-year-old virgin. Her amber eyes dart to the narrow opening between the trees she had squeezed through and takes a step towards it, moving away from the behemoth. The 5 inch height difference seeming more like a foot as he loomed closer. The eastern rising sun [I assume BQ is in the western hemisphere?] was well hidden beneath the grey clouds and landmarks hidden between the trees. Think, think, think. If she couldn’t make it back down the path she came would she be lost? Those 5 years of solitude seemed like a distant memory, years of tracking experience, honing survival skills and most importantly avoiding predators and now she had gone soft, those skills rusty. Had she seen something in his eyes that reminded her of the look of lust in that of wolves ready to attack? The uneasiness escalated into concern, would she really need to run? Clearly it was just a misunderstanding, seasonal hormones, and her safety was not in jeopardy, or so she rationalized.
“Nice to meet you Kirin, I’m Ashara.” she answers hesitantly, her voice softer with the closer proximity. Her original banter gone, lost for words. “I think perhaps I should get going?” her statement sounding more like a plead and she takes another side step towards the game trail not really wanting to turn her back to the stranger and hoping he will leave first.
If you're ever gonna find a silver lining It's gotta be a cloudy day
you're metophorical gin and juice so come on give me a taste of what its like to be next to you
It’s the typical game of cat and mouse. The age old conflict played out for eternity, never mind that technically both parties were equine- some more than others. Her own gilded form spoke plenty of the great race of horse, his own was rather bird-like and so were his mannerisms as the conversation continued.
The quick lace of her ears brings his own forward, ill intent not yet sparked enough to initiate his own scare tactics. He didn’t really need to either, the time would come for that but it was not just yet. She was already laying her own trap into fear, clearly frightened, even if just a hint of the emotion drew itself lightly along her motions. The falsetto that deigned to tremble as she clearly rethought her mistakes or previous actions. While she harped on herself inwardly Kirin smiled, he just smiled.
First he would continue his kind gestures, he feigned interest in her safety and well-being. Unfortunately no matter what she told him she really wasn’t safe at all. Her well-being was likely in dire circumstances now and if she was not roughed up too much physically, mentally, she might not recover.
“Of course, pleasure Ashara.” He smiles broader, a toothy grin gleaming in the specks of sunlight left to fall through the lace of tree canopy. “Leave? You just arrived.” A complaint, clearly sounding abashed at the mention of a hasty retreat. He had been so kind to her so far after all. “Well if you must I can give you a hand at the very least. I know all the shortcuts, where do you stay?” Yes indeed, where might home be? Kirin could help her find her way not back, but she didn’t need to know that.
“I’d just hate for you to get lost even more.” The earnest he displays is unsettlingly genuine, practiced to the T over years of women’s disservice. Dropping his silken voice to a whisper he leans in, “And there’s wolves and questionable goat men in the forest. Don’t worry though, if we work together, they’d never outsmart us.”
Bring her in, snatch her trust, make her need you.
To her discontent he didn’t seem to take the hint and leave, however he hadn’t inched any closer either. In fact, he was quite suave, even offering to help. She failed to find an excuse not to agree with him, battling uncomfortableness with virtues. Her body language warnings soften slightly. She couldn’t be rude, that wouldn’t be very diplomatic, would it? And how she longed to be like her kind, strong and courageous queen. Morally, she deduced to return his polite kindness and take his offer despite the sickly-sweet words and smile like a too-sugary dessert that gives you a stomach ache.
”That is very kind of you. I live in The Falls. I really just ventured out to keep warm but they’ll be waiting for me back home.” She lied, no one would be concerned about her whereabouts, they’d assume she was fulfilling her duties to the kingdom. Jedi was preoccupied with his new budding relationship and her other friend, Ygritte, was getting busy with the king and helping form alliances. Even if she was gone for days she doubted anyone would be concerned.
The lavender frame leans in again and she stiffens slightly, ears instinctively pinning momentarily before chuckling politely at his not-so-humorous comment. She doubted any predators would cross their path, after all if they existed here, surely she’d have met one already. “Lead the way then.” she suggests, using her head to point at the narrow path she had come in from. Her apprehension for exposing her backside to him or losing him in a blind spot was merely a scratch on the surface of how much fear she should have.
If you're ever gonna find a silver lining It's gotta be a cloudy day
you're metophorical gin and juice so come on give me a taste of what its like to be next to you
And so the cat is left to lead the mouse- over the hills and through the woods, grandmother would be so proud.
"Of course," He dips his head only slightly and gestures with an outstretched wing. "Just this way, not to worry I know how to get there. The Falls you say? Delightful place." In truth Kirin didn't know a whole lot about the Falls to say whether or not it was a nice place, he assumed it was by the looks of this woman. He had ever only seen the waterfall Kingdom from the skies, sailing over the realm and had never set foot through it at all.
Kirin doesn't take her back the way she came, instead he leads her through his very own 'shortcut', deeper into the darkened wood. Trees cluster now leaving little passing room between their crawling roots. Sunlight lingers sparsely and falls in dappled specks where it does manage to break the canopy cover, the lavender stallion walks tall and proud- appearing knowledgeable about the changing landscape. He turns his elegant head to the side, making small talk as they pass through the bark trimmed sentinels, twigs snapping here or there as they step.
After a time the trees begin to open up, an antechamber of lush grass and hardy wildflowers exposing themselves against the aided light of lightening bugs. "Well look at this! Isn't this a find, have you ever seen so many torch bugs?" The surprise was false, Kirin had sauntered into this very small clearing before, mapping it in his memory for future escapades such as this. Twinkling yellow-green light buzzed lazily about them, twisting slow patterns over the emerald shoots. With the distraction of elegant witch light he coils himself around to her backside, maw lathering as the festivities hint at commencement.
"It's a kinder backdrop than most get," he chuckles, smooth velvet turning into a growling as his voice drops to whispers for her ears, "and I want you to remember this moment always. Go ahead and cry, they won't hear you- but I'd quite enjoy your screams."
He'd fight her all afternoon if he had to, reaching his mass over her again and again until she tired or succumbed to his domination. When and if she was not still he bloodied her, clamping his teeth into the soft golden flesh where he could, pulling at the flaxen silk of her head when skin evaded him. Great wings stretched into the air, flexing wide to enhance his size, to dissuade his pray from challenging him. When teeth did not persuade he used his legs, his bulk to crash into her, even sustaining a few lesions of his own in the tussle but the bloodshed only made his madness grow fierce.
When he was done he left lathered, dripping with sweat and blood, leaving her to find her own way home.
Kirin
son of Khaos
i thought i would wrap this up a bit- hope this is okay
