"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
She is too much like her father during nights like this.
Covet spent his youth clinging to shadows, dancing with them, enjoying the way they rolled off his skin and protected him from his kingdom. Thorunn had no such kingdom to run from, in fact - she ran to it. When the silence of her nomadic life was too much she fell right back into step in Tephra and joined the army. She went back to the only thing she really knew and really understood.
Could you blame a girl?
Still, the silence that followed was deafening, and her skin itched to get out and do something else. Rather than explore the slopes of Tephra she journeys back to the land of neutrality and finds herself in new territory. This isn't surprising, Beqanna has shifted time and time again and created a bastardized version of itself unrecognizable to elders. Not that Thorunn was an elder, perse, but she did know what Beqanna was like before the Mountain.
The river is calm and quiet at night, trickling waters that shuddered under the lightest of touches. She reveled in the peace of it all, stepping two hooves into the shallows and letting the sensations reverberate through her.
Delicate things are pretty - cute, even, but you are not delicate. You are wild and lewd and unpredictable. You are breathtaking. You are beautiful.
My mother once told me I am my father's daughter. Of course, never having meet the man, I cannot say for certain whether it is true or not. Not to mention the question of how well my mother actually knew my father is really quite up for debate. Though she had never confirmed, I am fairly certain I am the product of a one night stand.
Not that it really matters to much. I am who I am, and at this late date, it's unlikely to change.
Still, these thoughts are really quite far from my mind at the moment. No, currently my thoughts are entirely occupied by my current activities. More specifically, admiring the way the moon and stars glimmer invitingly off the surface of the river. This particular section is rather placid, but even so, the pale reflection is widely distorted by the slow rippling of the surface.
I am entirely lost in thought, so when a sound catches my ear, I fair jump out of my skin. Jolting, I swivel my head around, my gaze landing upon a nearly indiscernible figure just sticking her toes in the water.
Gently clearing my throat, I close the distance that separates us, my odd eyes bright with curiosity, a faint smile curving my lips. Of course, most of this is probably not terribly visible in the dark. And perhaps that's a blessing. It would serve to help conceal my… unique appearance.
“Hello,” I greet easily, my tone soft and warm. “I hope I'm not disturbing you.”
She is aware there is another down stream.
Just as she's aware there's a beast three trees down, a critter the next one over, fish rippling at her hooves in the cool water. Thorunn was trained by her father to notice these things always and forever and not to let them stray from her attentions. Stay alert, stay focused, be aware, know your surroundings... It left very little room for idleness or chit chat or, well, living. Rest in peace, childhood. Rest in peace, contentment.
But it doesn't concern Thorunn until the mare makes her move higher upstream toward her, jolting at the realization of another. Thorunn doesn't share her concern, she knew about the strange girl well before she approached. She offers her own quiet neigh to say she sees the other, invites her to take the remaining steps to close the gap, her long scar shuddering in the moonlight.
i hope i'm not disturbing you she says and -
i am always disturbed im alone but with so many others ive made my bed im laying in it im im im
"No, you're quite all right," she says instead, shifting her weight. "I'm Thorunn," she says by way of greeting.
Delicate things are pretty - cute, even, but you are not delicate. You are wild and lewd and unpredictable. You are breathtaking. You are beautiful.
I might have three eyes, but unfortunately it really gives me no preternatural means of determining or even noticing things. Granted, I can see much more than the average equine, but pretend as I might, I am not truly as all seeing as I'd like to believe.
As is very much evidenced by my surprise just moments ago.
Fortunately she does not seem inclined to turn me away, and so I sidle just a bit closer. Just close enough for comfortable conversation. “Ah, thank you my dear, I'm glad.” I offer another more winsome smile before adding. “I can't begin to tell you how lonely it gets out here at night. I'm Giohde, by the way.”
My gaze shifts to the water in silent contemplation. After a moment's silence, I glance back at my new companion and ask, “So what brings you out here in the wee hours?”
Thorunn noted the third eye the way others might note a particularly large freckle, or a stray hair blowing too close to your eye. As someone with her own facial oddity (though, granted, she was not born with it) she can appreciate the fact that not everyone is the same. Animals have various differences that mark them, both physically and emotionally, and she knew how little bearing the scar had on her life. She can't help but wonder what the eye means for the girl (can it see? can it feel? does it lend better or worse vision?) but these are questions best left between friends, not acquaintances.
All in all, a rough 15 seconds is spent lingering on the third eye that glints under the moonlight, before the other girl goes on to talk and the silence is broken once more.
"To think, I suppose. To be alone," then - quickly, so the girl doesn't misunderstand her - "Or at least initially, it's nice to share the moonlight with someone else." She means it, though friendship is a strange thing for her. Covet (daddy dearest with his good intentions and his endless lessons) never taught her this, she's learning it piece by piece.
Delicate things are pretty - cute, even, but you are not delicate. You are wild and lewd and unpredictable. You are breathtaking. You are beautiful.
As someone with my own odd features, I suppose I have always been a bit more conscious of such things than others might be. Of course, in the dark, I don’t even notice the scar adorning my companion’s face. Had I though, it likely would have caused a pang of understanding, of familiarity. Granted, I had been born with my unique physicality, she had not. But the similarities are still there.
Fortunately she does not seem to inclined to comment, and I am perfectly happy to let sleeping dogs lie.
At her first words, I frown, an apology ready on my lips, but when she clarifies, my features clear and my smile brightens. “Yes, it is. It’s always too quiet around here at night.” My words are cheerful as I speak them, but my odd gaze turns distant, contemplative.
After a moment, my expression clears and I shake my head before turning my attention to the water at our feet. Dipping an experimental hoof into the cool liquid, a playful grin crosses my dark lips. “Ever taken a moonlight swim?”
"Swim?" she echoes, watching the girl inch into the water. Thorunn never thought of the water as something more than an impenetrable force, something that you drank but kept your distance from - ultimately. The Valley lacked more than a stream that trickled, and Tephra was a volcano. Not really lands of the sea, not really a place for a young girl to imagine dipping her toes into.
"I..." she is at loss of words, and thinks maybe to shut her mouth, but that would admit defeat. A bit of fear rises in her chest as a foreign feeling, sparking something strange and alien in her chest. She feared things from time to time but never obstacles. Never challenges. Never the unknown.
Delicate things are pretty - cute, even, but you are not delicate. You are wild and lewd and unpredictable. You are breathtaking. You are beautiful.
To be honest, I don’t actually swim all that often. But it can be fun. And I’ve never taken a moonlight swim either, so this would definitely be an experience. Frankly, I am not one to pass up experiences. Sometimes I could perhaps do with a bit more fear. But then, how does one live life to the fullest?
So, tossing Thorunn a wide grin, I wade into the chilly water. The night air is already cool and the rippling water of the river even colder. Cold enough that it causes me to suck in a breath as a splash deeper. But I force the breath out as I slosh through until the water reaches my shoulders. Then, squeezing my eyes shut, I duck my head under the rolling surface.
A moment later, I resurface with a gasp and a delighted laugh. Turning, I shake my dripping head, water spraying everywhere, before fixing my odd gaze on my new friend. “Well? What are you waiting for? It’s perfect!” I exclaim enthusiastically with another short, bright burst of laughter.
