"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
As the obsidian, bone plated stallion turned away, she remained. Solitare figure once again among a sea a green grasses. Navy eyes watched his form disappear upon the horizon with not even a name. He had not accepted her offer either so was his loss she figure. And with barely a shrug of her gently sloped shoulder she turned to the north. Creamy wave of mane danced about her neck as she traversed across the open terrain, heading for a stream in the distance. Perhaps a cool dip within the waters would provide relief from the summers heat boring down upon her. Every few strides she raised her plumage slightly to allow a cool draft underneath. Her thoughts haunting her all along the way...
Reaching the banks she scanned the area. Nothing imminent catching her attention, so she waded ankle deep within the waters. Soft ripples forming around her appendages as the current broke around them. Lowering her creamy lips to their surface she drank. Refreshing aqua filled her belly and comforted her slightly. On the far side of the channel was a treeline that promised even more shelter from the sun's rays. The water ran shallow this time of year and gaging the depth she would cross easily...
A few, near effortless, strides were made before reaching the other side. Climbing up out of the river her hooves found turf once again. She stopped for a moment to shake the stranded droplets from her coat and feathers. Another short walk and she was under the shaded canopy of a willow. Coming to a stand still she exhaled deeply. She was exhausted but not entirely from her travels. Hide hoof cocked as her body shifted to a more relaxed stance. Northern breeze brought her scents of sulfur and brine, nearly causing her to gasp. Wrinkling her nose slightly she shook her crown. Ears swiveling in interest at where she had wandered to...
you can have my isolation, you can have the hate that it brings.
“You are trespassing.”
The rumbling baritone of his voice emerges through the thick of the warm silence of evenfall, as the vivid crimson of his burning eyes bore into her, seeking some sort of explanation etched into the delicate, feminine curves of her pallid face – but finding none. The heat of summer is stifling, enveloping the girth of his tall, broad frame, as rivulets of perspiration trickle down along the faint lining of his rib cage straining against the marred darkness of his skin. The sun is unyielding, bathing him in its fervent light, tracing every puckered, pink scar lining his skin – some older than others, but still stark in contrast to the shadow of his flesh.
She is seemingly oblivious, unaware that she has traipsed beyond the border of the volcanic island, though the volcano itself is hidden away from sight today – a thick, tepid haze surrounding its base, while thick plumes of smoke shield its crest from sight, even at a distance. It does not rumble today, nor is it stirring with life – it is quiet, and content within the sweltering heat of summer.
He is unamused, yet his dark eyes hold no contempt, nor do the rigid lines of his distinct features hold any ire. Quietly, his gaze observes the golden sheen of her skin, and the finely preened feathers of her unusually colored wings – and finally, the deep curve of her dished face, seemingly content and altogether unaware of the domain of which she has encroached.
”State your name, and where you are from.”
you can have my absence of faith, you can have my everything.
Having drifted off into a state of unconsciousness she was unaware of a figure lingering near. His scent masked by the sulfur still lining her pastel pink nostrils. Only then was she suddenly brought back by an eerie stillness that had overcome the area. Carmel ears twisted within the tangles of her cream forelock as her navy eyes awaked. Quieting her breathing she listened attentively...
You are trespassing.
The deep voice rattled her breathing to quicken again. Turning her delicate face towards the direction from which it came. Caught off guard by the sizeable black form, too close for comfort, her body turned to face it head on. Was it the stallion from the meadow? Fire hot eyes glaring upon her confirmed it was not. A stallion yes, but did not bare the boned plates. Though scars were plentiful upon his ebony hide. Her glance shifted from his eyes to his scars and back to his face quickly. "I am sorry. I did not realize I was," her words laced with uncertainty...
His judgemental stare caused her feathers to press tightly to her small body. Concealing any evidence of the scars she carried herself. She wondered if his were from battles fought, or if they were of torture as hers had been. Wandering eyes slipped from his face again as her thoughts meandered, something they often did.
State your name, and where you are from.
Ears pressed against her skull as his words formed a question that sounded much more like a demand. Her defiance once again crept up from within her as her features twisted into a scowl. Gold flecked eyes narrowed upon his red stare, "Who are you to demand my name and whereabouts?!"
Typically her words were soft and kind, childish almost. And like a child she had a rebellious side that had gotten her into more trouble than she bargained for. An irritated twitch of her cream tail was all the movement she made...
you can have my isolation, you can have the hate that it brings.
The silence is nearly as stifling as the heat itself, and he finds ire growing within the hollow pit of his belly - the gleam in the dark, seemingly endless abyss of his crimson eyes do not hide the frustration beginning to simmer beneath the clear surface. The coiled muscle of his taut limbs barely flinches as her tone moves from one of uncertainty to one of defiance, and deep within, the flickering ember that had settled into a subtle flutter began to flair out, filling the expanse of his broad chest, warming the heavily rhythmic pounding of his heart.
He can feel her own gaze boring into him, tracing the many scars that line the hardened sinew of his body (far older than it seemed, even as its immortal clutch began to fade), and it does not stir any discomfort or uneasiness from him - but rather, a deeply rooted irritation has begun to fester, seeping out of his pores with the rivulets of perspiration that bead across the length of his spine. The fire has begun to exude from his skin, crawling across the length of his sloping spine, and up along the thick girth of his broad neck, entangling its own flames into his matted tresses - leaving them untouched and unharmed, though a low and dim flame covers the length of his body.
"You have trespassed into my kingdom; you should do well to bite your tongue," his rumbling, ragged voice utters, a growl looming within his throat. "there are clearly marked borders. Only a fool would overstep such boundaries with no care as to what lay ahead. If you will not give me your name or your purpose for intruding, you are not welcome. Get out."
you can have my absence of faith, you can have my everything.
Towering over her small stature, most her size would have turned tail and fled. Not her, she stood as tall as she could. Deep breaths flaring her ribs, plumage ruffled to add the look of substance to her delicate size. Gold flecked eyes remained firmly locked onto his glare. His words came quick and harsh. Processing them for a moment before shoving a response back at him, "A King should show manners. What ever happened to a simple hello?!" A huffed snort escaped her nares, "My NAME is Aurora and I do NOT have a home... Thanks for asking!"
If she hadn't been so perturbed by the stallions bossy demands her stomach may have quivered with the thought of her last words... She did not have a home. Why... she did not know. Maybe she didn't belong. Maybe the fairies had made a mistake by bringing her here. Maybe they should have left her to be tortured. To die...
Slowly the thoughts melted her demeanor. Shoulders slouched as her gaze dropped. The emerald feathers hung loosely upon her sides, slightly exposing the scars near her shoulders. Defeated was the unmistakable look upon her. Eyes upon the ground, as barely a whisper was heard, "I'll leave."
you can have my isolation, you can have the hate that it brings.
”I think that you are underestimating who you are speaking to,” he utters beneath his breath – barely a snarl, his upper lip curled, as the heat of the simmering fire within him stirs on the surface, just beneath the scarring that traces the hardened muscle and bone of his body. The searing crimson of his gaze does not waver, nor does it shy away from her steady, defiant stare – if anything, he is drawn closer to her, closing the space left between them – which was already very little. ”I could slough your skin off and leave you here to die a slow and painful death; it would take no time at all.”
His breath is warm across her cheek, and hers is against his own, taking in the furrowed ridge of her stubborn brow – the indignation laced with each carefully uttered syllable, but he is far beyond caring for any political demeanor. She has carelessly ignored the boundary line of the volcanic island, reckless and foolish. A childlike wistfulness had led her into his grasp, and there was no certainty that he was not dangerous – that the fire inside of him would not take hold; take her for his own. She had no understanding of him, of the territory she had crossed into. She had no knowledge of the darkness that had already begun to creep into his heart; taking hold of the one delicate heartstrings and encasing them in poison.
He would make certain that she might think twice next time.
Quietly, the girth of his body presses past her (the scalding heat of his body brushing across her delicate, multicolored peacock feathers – almost hot enough to singe - almost). Still, his burning eyes bore into her, tracing the hardened line of muscle beneath her tense shoulders, his breath brushing across her withers. ”Aurora, you could find yourself in a very dangerous predicament, crossing into boundaries that are not your own, so recklessly. I owe you nothing, and certainly no manners, when you have shown me no respect.”
”Give me one good reason as to why I shouldn’t make an example out of you.”
you can have my absence of faith, you can have my everything.
He stalks her defeated stance. Circling about like a buzzard to it's withering prey. Taunting and tormenting.... He moves in and the heat of his skin nearly singes her brilliant feathers. She hardly shies from his touch. She had felt worse...
His stale presence had suddenly turned entertained. As if this was a cruel game. She never understood how they chose darkness. She didn't believe they wished to be this way, forever wicked. Maybe she was naive to think that way. He swept his heated breath across her carmel cheek. Again she found herself wrapped into a game of cat and mouse... Forever the mouse...
His words seeped into her ears. Filling her mind with the memories of her past. Each gash placed along her hide, each scar that swept along each bone. Her gaze had not left the ground and she had not a chance to turn to leave before he was upon her. Threatening her... She did not fight. Did not protest. Cream laced lips parted as she replied, "I have already been made an example of... You are too late..."
you can have my isolation, you can have the hate that it brings.
. Gone is the defiance that had been so deeply embedded into the marrow of her bones – the fiery glimmer of her steady, glowering stare fading away, swept away by the surge of memories tucked away within the recesses of her mind – and she is is as trapped as he. Little did she realize, he had never chosen darkness – it had chosen him in the form of a curse, bestowed upon him by something (someone) so much more powerful than himself. The pyrokinesis that burned so brightly within the depths of his chest had been meant as an endowment, as a gift, but it had become nothing more than a bane to his own existence.
Another weapon to wield.
And even now, as his own mind touches the scalding surface of his buried memories, the fire surges inside of him, bristling and causing him to nearly recoil from her. Anger once again bubbles and festers from within, crawling over the marred surface of his too-hot skin.
He did not choose darkness – it had chosen him.
”Where is your boldness now, Aurora?” he mutters, the usually soft rumbling of his voice more akin to the snarling of a wild dog, his dark eyes settling upon her yet again. There is a trace of anguish within her dark indigo gaze, averted away from his, though he is soon following the soft curve of her cheek and the tousled, ivory tresses that lay across the slender slope of her neck. ”You cannot wander the boundaries of a marked territory so heedlessly. There is protocol, and disrespect for protocol is not taken lightly.” he utters, but his voice has softened – if only slightly.
”At least not here. What is it you want? What is it you’re looking for?”
But he already knows.
you can have my absence of faith, you can have my everything.
When all else had failed she turned gaurded. His unnaturally burning skin too close for comfort. Cream tail twitched in annoyance as her ears flattened once more...
Where is your boldness now Aurora?
It had gotten her in trouble more often than not. As he taunted her she grew uneasy of his intentions. His rant continue as he snarled at her. What do you want? Navy eyes lifted from the ground as they placed their view upon his face, "What do YOU want? I said I'm sorry and I said I'd leave..." Her voice withers away as she remains locked onto his red gaze. Her cream forelock falls gently to mask her left eye. Had she threatened him unknowingly?
Anger was a rare feeling for her, often not lasting but a moment. She found kindness in almost everything, at one point or another. Even the bone plated "beast" she had met, shown her a gentleness. It was a give and take that was awarding her nothing here. She was now watching his slightest of movements to gauge his next assault....
The blood bay had been minding his own business, not caring in any real sense where he was headed. He had just let the trails of lava that scattered this muggy tropical wasteland guide his path; choosing left or right at each fractured branch of red-black plasma. That was until he heard the low-pitched growl of Offspring. A deep seeded anger dripped from his mouth, as venom drips from the fangs of the lethal and deadly. Worried he launched his tall frame toward the sound, Someone must be intruding, something had to be wrong. His hooves tore into the groundbreaking the spongy green carpet that covered the expanse of land, his muscles contracted and pushed fiercely against ligament and bone and hence the ground as he shot forward. The land rushed by as he weaved through the lava streams until he grew close enough to see the source of the problem. Nymphetamine’s breath came in short quick puffs, the adrenaline forcing his system into overdrive and therefore shortening his breath faster than usual. But the scene he crashed into was not what he had expected.
A mare. Small, dark brown, with white at her hooves and down her face… a normal looking mare, though looks were often deceiving in Beqanna. His eyes shifted from one to the other curious as to why the draft stallion would be so furious. From what the russet-brown stallion had heard was nothing to be so angry towards. ”Give me one good reason as to why I shouldn’t make an example out of you.” The growl had left his throat the moment before he crashed into their little section of land. But before he could speak the fire left the girl’s eyes and her voice grew quiet, her posture weakening under some unknown internal force. The bay closed the distance between him and his king. A stern look on his face ”Offspring…” It was quiet, only the black stallion would have heard it. It was cautionary, part warning part question. Questioning what had happened to rattle his temper so, warning him to keep his temper in check. It was his job after all, to keep his king in diplomatic check. Had this mare been from another territory the efforts of their ambassadors would be for not, and it could easily start a war. Beqanna had been quiet for a long time, and wars had happened for less.
The stallion didn’t wait and dug his knife-like words deeper into the mare, his breath almost steaming as it delivered its venomous slash over and over with each passing syllable. But his final phrase was at least answered his question, she had crossed unaccompanied into these lands. She had not followed what was customary, a call at the boundary. It happened, some didn’t care, some didn’t know, and some crossed to cause trouble. Nymph sighed as his leader delivered his final words, which seemed unnecessary as the mare before them seemed more than defeated. Nymph knew that for every honest being in these lands there were those that were dishonest as well, and he had spent a few years as the dishonest one, spying within Chamber for Mast and the members of Gates, he had been the dishonest one when he stopped spying for gates and worked against them, and he had been the honest one ever since the gates-chamber war as he had finally found himself. This mare that stooped before them, didn’t seem the dishonest type. He could be wrong but his training said he was not. But she found an inner fire, her words shot back at him with some form of vengeance. It made the once-necromancer smirk, though it faded as the harsh actions of Offspring again invaded the forefront of his mind.
For this he spoke up, for this he stood up to Offspring, his steely eyes burned their own shade of proverbial red. ”Enough.” His voice a deep growl that grew louder as the word vibrated in the back of his throat, he didn’t shout. But the opposite, like a parent who was quiet when angry, the volume was not the meaningful thing but the tone the grit and pure emotion of frustration and grit that was behind the quiet words. His head turned towards Offspring, his attention no longer on the mare. Let him give his worst to the bay, for the bay could take it. Beqanna wouldn’t allow him to die, so let the draft stallion scorch him if he could. ”Offspring what is this?!?! I get that we are not nice to those who cross into our lands unwelcomed, but this?!?” He gestured to the mare who seemed so close to breaking it pulled at his heartstrings. ”Since when did we do this….this is not what I signed up for… this is NOT what Kildare would have wanted for Tephra, for you.” his voice now was raised to a shout. There was more raw emotion to it, the memory of Kildare was important to him, and surely to his ruler. His eyes bored into the red eyes of Offspring for a long time. Almost daring him to speak, but pleading him to check himself.
Blood bay against black, nymph hadn’t thought it would be like this, but he had already suspected something was wrong. That Offspring had some internal battles deep within him, and that the turmoil was consuming. But surely this was just a bad day, an accident...an oversight. Nymph grew quiet, but he didn’t stay still, if Offspring wanted to take him down verbally or physically it wouldn’t be on the red eyed stud’s terms. His russet form peeled away from the draft stallion and encroached on the mare. Her small brown form dwarfed by his 16.2 hands of lean muscle. He circled her once, his eyes keen for injury or sign of malintent. ”Nymphetamine, and you are?” His words were firm but kind and he paused for her to answer, stepping back to allow her space to fill into, once she found her strength again. He glanced at Offspring before he finished ” Why Tephra? Of is your presence here just happenstance?” He closes the space he gave her moments before in a final circle, his mouth close her ears, “You know you really should be careful, this could have been much worse for you….
AuroraElis
![[Image: nymphetamine_zpsmlx48otf.gif]](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v202/dsl_devin/nymphetamine_zpsmlx48otf.gif)