"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
He wasn't known for doing things the traditional way. Things became so ordinary, so habitual to people, they seemed to forget there were other ways of doing them. If it had been done one way for so long, their minds became conditioned to accept it as the norm, as the way of completing whatever task it was.
So of course he wasn't all that attracted to the idea of searching for a stranger's face that may look stricken or lost or simply bored. It felt backwards in his mind to put himself and his values upon them as though he knew what was best for them. Sure, when it came down to it, finding someone at the field was really just an offer for them to decide for themselves, an explanation as to what their home could be like for that person. But he wasn't much of a salesman, and the idea of trying to persuade someone to join his home was not appealing in the least. And he certainly didn't want just anybody.
Therefore, with his daughter at his side, they'd come here to simply watch. Perhaps wait. If it felt right, someone would come. Their home was a little different from the others. It was based from their family, the orphaned daughters he and his mate had adopted. He had hopes that it would remain that way, that each new body would be an extension of their family, their pack, and not just a soul to share their grazing. Not just a name to know and a belly to fill.
Besides, it was a great place to practice.
Yes, just like that! Flap strong, but keep your rhythm, he encouraged Heda. She was his little golden girl, a charming stripe of navy lining her spine. He pumped his wings in demonstration as she followed suit, working to build her strength so that she may learn to fly soon. And it would have to be soon, as he would not always have his wings when the light of magic returned to him.
Time had passed, both slow and quick. She roamed the grasslands of the field as one face among many, a realisation somewhat sombre, and Illae wondered just when it was she had blended into the depressing hopelessness of the field and wore a face just like them, the other faceless faces. Homeless, tentative and unsure. She had been different once. A once curious foal who had surely driven her mother to madness with her thirst for knowledge and her curiosity of every little creature that so much as moved. But a hard first winter without her mother had stolen that light from her. And the world which had always promised to be such a wonder looking out from her big child brown eyes, had, with the passing of time, lost the resplendent sheen of that promise.
And so she drifted, moving slowly, devoid of purpose, filling her belly with the young grass shoots of spring. The lingering warmth of sunshine on her pale hide a small comfort as the day slogged on and time passed in the aimless way it so often does now.
Soon enough she came across father and daughter. They had an easiness about them, devoid of worry, nor did they seem lost. Such a countenance here seemed misplaced. For a moment too long she gazed at them with a mixture of awe and envy. Awe, because with the sunlight capturing the gold in the filly’s coat, her wings beating the air as she learnt beneath the nurturing instruction of her father. This was the family she had longed for yet had never had. And envy, because the majority of her own learning had more to do with self-exploration than anything her impatient mother had tried to impart on her.
She smiled inwardly yet her face was steady and expressionless. She supposed moments of joy could still be found here, even if fleeting. “She learns well.” She offered shyly, facelessly. A passing comment as she drifted by the pair whose picture perfect countenance would surely fade in time as hers had done. She did not know what their purpose here was, how could she? To Illae, the field was a place where strangers had always remained estranged.
She's excited, and she shows it with playful bounces as she scuttles behind her father. Today was the day her daddy was going to teach her how to fly! She'd been anticipating the use of her little navy tinged wings since day one, and with little bounds of excitement behind her father she flutters her wings with joy as they neared the field. It was a strange place daddy had picked for her to practice in but there was no need to protest, as long as she could fly everything was all good, for our little golden girl.
With little puffs of excitement being emitted out of her petite little body, she watched as her daddy demonstrated by flapping his huge wingspan, and of course the excited girl followed in suite. She was hesitant at first, glancing around at everyone in the field as if to make sure they were watching the amazingness that was about to happen. At first she hovered, it was alright but she felt really unstable. Oh man she thought she was going to fall over in mid air. But the second time she got a little higher, feeling the wind lifting her beneath her wings as she flapped rather quickly.
It was exciting, and even a bit daunting. As she soared higher she became more equipped with the guts of flying even though she was a little bit off balance. She stares down at her daddy and shouts with a surprisingly strong voice, "Daddy! Look I'm flying!" She holds her little head high and proud. For her first time she felt pretty satisfied with herself, and to conclude her little flight lesson, the girl returned to her father, scuttling with her little limbs beneath one of his wings. It was her safe place as it was Jinju's when her sister was her age.
With an excited swish of her tail her eyes meet a stranger, she presses herself to her father's side, brushing her muzzle on his shoulder, as if seeking his attention. But with more shy vocals she speaks up, "Hello." Lifting her little cranium up, the girl looks at her father, in a nervous tone. She hadn't met many strangers in Taiga, almost everyone was her family whether they were adopted or not. So the meeting of strangers was quite new to Heda.
HEDA
Go right ahead, laugh at the girl who loved too easily
Heda was hesitant at first, but soon she was able to hover her little body above the ground. He looked on proudly, happy that she had already progressed so quickly. She was a natural! Soon she'd be flying better and swifter than even he. Her excitement grew with her success, and soon she was flapping even stronger and drawing herself higher. Worry clutched at him, seeing her shaky balance.
"Daddy! Look I'm flying!"
He sensed eyes on them and glanced at the pale mare that had joined them. She seemed young still to him, but she lacked the light of a child's wonder. She softly commented on Heda's swift learning, but her face didn't change. He looked back up to Heda. Ok, that's high enough, he said firmly, trying to hide the concern chilling his blood and hardening his eyes.
She landed and returned to him, taking refuge beneath a white wing as her sister Jinju had done as a baby. Pressing into him and brushing against his shoulder, she kept her little eyes on the newcomer. With a careful "hello" she looked back up at him, her face a little uncertain. He smiled warmly at his sunny girl, giving her a reassuring nuzzle before focusing on the young mare again.
She seems to be a natural, and very eager to excel, he said with a low chuckle. I am Ruan, and this is Heda. He pauses to wait for her name in return. She seemed only a shell, as though life had already beaten her down and given her a poor hand.
Are you here in the field seeking a home, he asked curiously. She didn't look like she was looking for anything, really. As though she were a ghost wafting through wherever the breeze swept her. Aimless, listless. Lifeless.
Illae watched as the golden filly landed from the skies and came to nestle beneath the cosy concave of one of her father’s great wings. The familial bond between the pair was obvious, and her lips slipped into a faint half smile although the wash of despondency trapped within her eyes remained unchanged. She had never experienced the same sort of tenderness or encouragement from her mother. Life had been hard, devoid of love, or rather, devoid of the expression of love, because deep down, instinctively, Illae knew her mother must still have loved her. She would not be here if it weren’t true.
Despite this, Illae harboured no bitterness towards them for it, she was glad for them, that they could form such a bond in a world so endlessly vast, so lonely. One day, perhaps she could share in the same, one day…
“Hello.” she half whispered in return, her voice an echo of what it once was in the time before her world had lost most of its lustre. She did not think she was much older than the golden girl, perhaps a season or two. Yet her mind no longer felt as young, her foal-hood lost to her prematurely because there had been no choice. “Your wings are beautiful against the sky.” She complimented shyly as a part of her wondered if flight would grant her a freedom beyond the aimless drifting she had succumbed to. It could never change what had happened, I’d still be alone…
Her sad thought broken by the kindly stallion’s voice and deep chuckle. “My mother named me Illae,” she told them softly. Her mother had called her many things.
“Are you here in the field seeking a home” Was she? Did she need a home?
Her home, however harsh and uncomfortable had been against her mother’s flank, they had wandered far and wide, she did not think it was something that could be replaced, perhaps if she had been younger… “I… do not know, I seek something, I ….” She paused, her calm composure beginning to tremble, beginning to crack. She looked away, the sadness welling in her eyes, threatening to fall from the cusp of her lower lid. She was too ashamed for them to see.
“I don’t want to be lost anymore.” She says into the air away from them, her words perhaps muffled by the wind. “I don’t want to become what I’m becoming.” which was empty.
The girl hides under her safe place, meeting strangers was never quite her forte. So she huddles beside her daddy shielding herself with his giant wing, as she trembles nervously. Our sweet emotional girl buries her head into into his inky black coat, as she remains glued to his side, her wings fluttering in a shy notion.
The girl seems nice but Heda can't help herself, she's afraid everyone she had met in Taiga had been her family, Terra, Jinju, Ruan, and Reagan. And now she's placed in front a stranger? What else is she supposed to do? Trembling, the girl allows herself to peek out from her now little hide out, navy blue tipped lobes reveal themselves out from their hideout, only to retract back into her little hide out.
he's tempted to tell her daddy that it was time to leave but when the girl speaks up about her wings against the sky, and she can't help but jump out of her little hide out, and exclaim a quite loud and joyful, "Thank you!" Her amber eyes light up. No one had ever complimented her wings before.And with a rather joyful leap she strode towards the girl, who was called Illae. Who also spoke of being lost, and something of becoming.
So the little sunlight and night girl came up with a solution. Why not have Illae come home with them? "Illae you can come home with us if you want."
HEDA
Go right ahead, laugh at the girl who loved too easily
Heda cradled comfortably beneath a feathered limb, tucked in her cocoon of safety. He couldn't help but to touch her with sweet velvet, blowing gently on her neck with the intent to pacify her, ease her nerves. But it wasn't long before she was bounding out in excitement with a "thank you," basking in the pale girl's compliments. He smiled at her infectious moods, turning his gaze to the other once again.
Illae. It was a beautiful name, soft and delicate. She was like an ivory lace hung to dry, billowing in the wind and clinging to her lifeline for the sole reason that she knew how to. Life passed her by, beneath her perch as she went unnoticed and possibly forgotten. In her reply, she hesitated. Her porcelain creased and cracked, showing the hollowness within.
"I don't want to be lost anymore. I don't want to become what I'm becoming"
He ached to soothe her, drape a protective wing across her back and steady her. Instead, he stilled, concern pinching his brows as he carefully bent to touch his muzzle to hers gently. Reassurance. Kindness. He was the Heart of the Taiga, and it showed through his tenderness for those in his care, under his protection. She wasn't one of those, but she could be if she wished it.
Heda followed his thoughts and invited her to come home with them. He smiled, throwing a wing over her again and pulling her close. Bright little girl. Yes, Illae. If you like, you may come home with us. To stay, or only visit if you'd rather. We are from the Taiga, a large expanse of forest. Would you like to see it? he asked, thinking of how the sunlight riddles through the canopy in soft beams of light, flaring to life across little Heda's golden coat. It was the perfect home for him, the wild one who ran with wolves.
As her own words escaped her lips, they became the catalyst to her emotional undoing. She was no longer strong enough, could no longer carry herself through the solitude that accompanies many a traveller lost. Her lithe, pale body grew tense as she trembled to halt the will of her unshed tears. She had curved her head away from them, an action to safeguard the fragility of her emotions – to endure this long on her own, she’d had to be strong, never crack. Too late, she thought, and a solitary tear, welled for too long in the lower lid of her eye finally fell, and skimmed against the delicate hairs of her cheek.
She had chosen this, hadn’t this been what she had wanted? Her mother had cursed her for forsaking the ways of her people, for her stubbornness against her mother’s constraints, against her upbringing. But she had known that wasn’t what she was, could never become. And so she had fled, though not without emotional scars. Though for a time there, alone and wild and unconstrained, all had been well. Until it wasn’t.
The touch of his muzzle against hers brought her back to them. The great stallion’s breath a warmth that was able to meld her fracturing pieces back together. And little Heda’s words, well, they filled her with a hope that she couldn’t comprehend fully but was nonetheless there. She turned and rested her gaze once again on them both. Her big brown eyes dewy with moisture having streaked both cheeks wet. She had chosen to be alone for so long, but that didn’t need to mean forever.
Their solution was warm, welcoming. And in this moment it felt right.
Go with them, she willed herself. Leave this behind. Become something, anything, rather than the soulless shell of a filly she felt she was slowly yielding to. “I would like to see…” she spoke to them both, her voice almost unheard.
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