"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 would not be too far of a stretch to say that he hated it. Yet here he was, looking horribly out of place. He would rather be in the deep cool hands of his forest, and yet…
He has heard rumours. Whispers on the wind, as it were, this his black and yellow daughter has been seen around here recently. And, while he certainly respects her right to choose her own path, she had never actually said no to Taiga, and if she was here, looking for a home, it would be only fair to consider Taiga equally amongst the others. In truth, he did not want her to leave. He remembers the one he had lost, long ago. He had searched and searched for her, to no avail. He did not want that to happen to Arete too.
But of course, the well laid plans of mice and all that… He happened to stumble across a mare, not overly remarkable of itself, but there was a stallion, too, a pushy-looking one, with shifty bits that reminded him of his own sire. A relation, perhaps – his sire’s side of the family tree was littered with the shapeless, and equally littered with shapeshifters on his dam’s side. Remaining static was not a familial trait.
He has half a mind to just walk on, carry looking for his daughter but – another mare approaches, he recognises her as a Taigan. He doesn’t really pay attention until she makes reference to Ruan and he lifts his head from the grass he was eating, chewing thoughtfully as he wanders up to the trio. By the time he has reached them, the Taigan has truly put her hoof in her mouth, embarrassing herself and her father, and Romek shakes his head.
”Shut up.”
He offers a sort of smile to the other two, though how can he mean it? The stallion was trying to force the mare into decisions she might not want and the mare seemed…grateful for it? Well, there were all sorts.
”My name is Romek. I’m afraid I didn’t catch both your names.” He settles down lazily and awaits their replies.
Bella-Mae rolled her eyes, the joy that had been forced into her mind finally starting to fade. "That's probably cause you just got here." she whipped, her normal personality of fire lining her words once more. "Bella-Mae, but that's the third time I've had to speak it in a matter of minutes. I don't particularly like my name, but, my mother thought it was gorgeous. I don't particularly like her either." Her voice trailed off as she looked at the sinking rays of warmth, reminding her of her slight shivering. "If you three don't mind I'd like to find shelter soon. The wind is picking up, and clearly my patterning is drawing attention, and I'd rather not be on the wrong side of a predators teeth," she reasoned, bobbing her head a little with impatience.
The mare looked over the new stallion quickly before asking yet another question, "What is your reason for interrupting my previously peaceful day?' she was getting slightly annoyed, yes her life got boring, but if this erupted to another fight she would either be the one who had started it, or the one trotting away. She turned her massive head to look at her patterning, the splash of white on either side went up to her main, down her two front legs, and over her hind quarters, but her filled in topline was a bright chestnut and framed her white splashes. It was easy to see why they called it a frame overo.
Finally, she straightened her neck back to look at the two powerful stallions before wondering if this one also had a power... a longing and a feeling of exclusion plagued her mind, causing her eyes to close slightly more and her shoulders to slouch a bit.
when the stars threw down their spears and water'd heaven with their tears:
He knows that look - the one Bell-Mae gives when Romek joins them and she sees that ordinary just won’t cut it here in Beqanna. His son, Longclaw, had given him the same look when they’d discussed his lack of abilities. It irritated him then and it irritated him now. With a brief glance in Romek’s direction he listens to the two speak, aware that the day is beginning to wind down and that soon, Bell-mae will have no choice but to either stay or go with one of them.
“Bell-Mae.” He calls to her, voice low and beset with urgency. “I won’t offer you safety, or happiness, or anything that silly girl's dream of - because you don’t need them.” He grumbles, sprouting wide, black wings from his shoulders. “Where I intend to take you is dangerous and I certainly won’t promise you safety when we get there.” Wyrm tells her, simply uncaring in any sense of the word. She wasn’t his responsibility - only a means to an end for the brightly-colored stallion.
“I didn’t pick you for your coat, or your looks, or you gender. I picked you because you seemed like easy prey. If you stay here, that’s what you’ll always be.” He shrugs, willing to relinquish her into Romek’s care if she wished. This trip to the field only reminded him why he prefered not to come to this place in the beginning. Too many unknowns. “Come with me or go with Romek, I couldn’t care less.” He finalizes, pulling the newly grown, dark feathers close to his sides.
He couldn’t take her by force anymore - the law of Beqanna prevented such an act now that Romek had arrived. His purpose for even staying was slowly dwindling. What he did know was that he was short on patience and words, so giving Bell-Mae a quick option was as easy as brutal honesty.
did he smile his work to see? did he who made the Lamb make thee?
03-25-2017, 04:09 PM (This post was last modified: 03-25-2017, 04:11 PM by Romek.)
fuck all your dreams; they're not all they seem.
The mare offers some kind of retort, but this receives no reaction from the spotted stallion other than a barely-raised brow. She introduces herself as Bella-Mae, speaks about her mummy issues, a subject the stallion was rather well-acquainted with, although it seems like a lifetime and a half ago that that had all happened; and he felt like it held little to no relevance to who he is today.
The sun is setting, and it is growing markedly colder – but he is in no particular rush to get home. The dusk and the night-time belonged to him, him and all the Taigans, horses who were more claw and fang than they were hoof and etiquette. Of course, they had no set critera for joining – but it certainly seemed to attract the untameable, the wild, the free.
She mentions that she wants to get out of the wind, somewhere safe before nightfall and predator-call, and Romek rolls his shoulders. Not for Taiga, then. He hadn’t really been intending to recruit her anyway, so he felt no real loss or disappointment. He had only joined conversation to ensure that she had a choice in who she left with; but she doesn't seem to appreciate it, or even understand it. He has been polite, always a difficult feat to manage these days for himself, so he decides he now owes her nothing, and that she ought to be getting along home with the stallion who actually wanted her.
”Fancied a laugh.” he replies boredly, tilting his head as she examines herself (because, of course, why wouldn’t she?). Romek doesn’t understand the appeal – she’s brown and white, nothing particularly amazing or notable for Beqanna, but he supposes someone needs to think highly of her – why not herself? Perhaps if she had been a little more polite, a little more courteous, or god forbid, even grateful for Romek or even Heda coming in and giving her a choice in the matter of where she ends up… Perhaps he would’ve minced his words a bit. Perhaps he would’ve sugar coated it, or been nicer.
