this is my fight song - anyone

[Ephrelle]

Though Ephrelle has always been curious about the Dale, she hadn’t actually meant to come here. Perhaps it was something subconscious, but as she roved the wide and uninhabited land between the Amazons and the Dale, she has slowly made her way north. The earth below her feet has been rising in elevation, but she’s mostly intrigued with the unfamiliar plants and animals than with how far she is above sea-level. Only when the trees around her begin to thin out and she’s looking down into a green valley does she realize where she’s ended up.

The Dale has woven its way into her family history many times in recent generations. Her great-grandmother and her grandmother ruled here, and perhaps if Dorne had less of a wandering heart perhaps Ephrelle might have been a princess too. She has heard stories of the place since she was born, and though she’s not even two years old yet, she feels as though she already knows the place. Over one of those hills is the memorial that great-grandfather Errant made for great-grandmother Lea, and somewhere in the forest is the glen that Dorne use to chase her younger brothers through while playing tag.

Ephrelle smiles happily, content to stand at the edge of the kingdom and take in as much as she can. She has no diplomatic purpose here, and she is clearly neither a native nor a fresh recruit. The green vine and crimson blossom of the amazons is bold against her mostly black coat, and the little golden honeybee rests peacefully on one long leaf as the varnish roan yearling looks over the Dale.

ephrelle

yearling vithiraki and charoki of the amazons

[Joscelin]

joscelin

She is restless, pacing the small clearing like a caged animal. But she is not caged, there are no bars, no tethers keeping her where she is. Not physical ones, at least. No, her tethers are the emotional kind. Ephemeral and unbreakable all at the same time. She has attempted to keep her strong emotions under wraps, keep them from bursting free. But they refuse to be contained. She has gotten better, gained more control, but they still come. A flood of rage, or sadness, or confusion. A massive tide that her shoddily constructed breakwaters cannot keep contained for long.

She has gotten better though. Less destructive. The force of her emotions seems to be no less, but the brilliant outbursts they heralded were becoming more manageable. Enough that she believes she might soon be able to fly free of her self-imposed cage.

These are thoughts running rampant through her mind when she hears the quiet noise. She has been lingering on the edge of the Dale lately, in less populated portions of the land. Not that it was terribly populated to begin with. Nevertheless, she remained conscientious of her unstable state. It is why she has become so sensitive to the presence of others. Though the mare made very little noise, Joscelin heard, coming instantly to alertness.

She moves forward, putting herself in the filly’s field of view. She remains at a (relatively) safe distance, her red and white body still except for the occasional flicker of light running along the myriad of cracks that grace every inch of her body. As her bright golden gaze fixes upon her, she sees now just how young she is. Not that Joscelin has much of a leg to stand on. She is very young too. More a filly than a mare still. Those intense golden eyes study the newcomer, taking in the vine and flower. A hint of her former insatiable curiosity slips through the tight grip she has upon her volatile emotions. She knows she should turn and leave, walk away. The filly does not realize the danger she is in. But really, what’s the worst that could happen? The black and white girl might get a few pockmarks if Joscelin’s wayward power acts up again, but she’s pretty sure that would be it. In the end, she stays, her curiosity winning out.

Who are you?

there's a song in your lung and a dream in your eye

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