"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
Crimson gaze watched as they came and destroyed the kingdom in turmoil. Those who had called it home before the takeover were resistant. Not shocking. Inevitably it had to be settled and what better way than total annihilation. It was what it was and now time to move on. So he did...
Slipping thru the wall of thorns and bramble he crossed into Sylva. He has been here in the shadows for some time previously. After having left Jinju in the Taiga. Only meeting a few before disappearing. He preferred the solitaire but sometimes it got dull. Only surfacing to seek out mischief. It was the norm for a jackal of sorts. Today was just one of those days.
His footing was quiet for moving across fallen autumn leaves. They never all fell. This forests canopy was unique in that way. He was grateful for the continuous coverage. Blending well with the darkness and occasional scattered daylight. Blackened horns twisted to search for incoming steps. He wasn't expecting to cross paths with anyone since the woodlands have become isolated as of lately. That didn't mean he would give up gaurd to the possibility...
She'd sent her children to the west and come to investigate herself. She appears in the eastern forest with a faint shimmer of sand, nothing more than a small dun mare. With her senses alert, she does not miss the sound of hooves.
Djinni steps around a tree and into his path. Her pretty face lacks its customary smile, but she does not look prepared for a confrontation either.
"Can I help you?" She asks with a tilt of her small head. "What has you rushing here from the Taiga so quickly, and makes you think you can cross Sylva without a welcome?" He had not introduced himself the last time he had tried to venture into her woods, but she does not intend to let him slip away without giving her the answers she is looking for.
They were quick to come. Investigating the tragedy that had befallen the old kingdom if towering redwoods. Perhaps one day they would be returned to their former glory. With a twist of an ear he heard steadfast steps. The sound of purpose and intent. A grin curled his lips as she comes into view of his crimson eyes. Such a curious creature of earthy tones. "Ah, we meet again my Dear," he slickly greets her as she cuts off his path. He had no quarrels with stoping to chat. He continues, "I narrowly escaped the destruction inside Taiga. The Gods have claimed it for their own. So I am homeless once again." An expression if sorrowed bewilderment on his features. He study's her face before explaining farther, "I've come to ask you if I can stay within the borders of your land, of course. I can be of some use I'm sure." A smirk slightly apparent...
The cool autumn wind lifts her frosted mane from her neck, and the dun mare does not hold back a shiver. Here, where the redwoods and the deciduous trees meet, the forest is thinner. The wind rips roughly through these no man’s lands, and Djinni prefers the temperate heart of her quiet kingdom. The small mare resettles her weight in a more comfortable position, relaxing despite the lack of a visibly pleasant expression on her dark face.
His slick greeting does nothing to draw out a smile; she recalls their last meeting, when he had been greeted upon his arrival but never gave a reason for it. Still, she is appears to be a reasonable creature, and listens to what he has to say. The sorrow and bewilderment on his face do not read as false, but the rest of his tale has a ring of something other than honesty to them. The cobwebbed lines above her brows crinkle in a frown, and she disregards his suggestion that he might be of use.
“The Taiga has been destroyed?” She asks. “Where is Ruan? And the rest of the kingdom? I’d be happy to offer former Taigans refuge here, but I’d like to speak to the king first.” Ruan was a proud creature, she remembers. It is also difficult to imagine that he’d allow his pack to split up so easily, especially given the offer she had made him those years ago. Sylva is no redwood forest, but it is a forest just the same.
“You never introduced yourself last time.” She says then, tearing her eyes away from the east. She returns her sea-green gaze to the red eyes of the stallion. They remind her of the eyes of her sister’s firstborn, the little colt she’d born in the Chamber to a vicious stallion.
Where is Ruan? His brow furrows at the question. He knew nothing of the name but Taigans he could offer a whereabouts of them if she so wished to know, "The old or the new my Dear?" Lips curled at the thought of the question. Did she not know? Maybe but it was not his place to spread gossip nor rumors.
You never introduced yourself last time? A spark grew in his flame hued eyes. "Ouija. But what is a name anyways," his eyes fall to the east as smoke rises from the once kingdom. His name would not be remember amongst the masses. Here one day, gone another...
Overhead, the leaves rustle and sway. Djinni does not spare them a glance; she is focused on this red-eyed stranger.
He answers none of her questions, and the frown on her forehead deepens. The repeated endearment does nothing to assuage her distrust of this second-time stranger. He had been a member of the Taiga? She finds the thought unlikely, but it has been more than a year since she had ventured into the redwood forest. Perhaps the criteria for membership in Ruan’s pack was not as stringent as those of the Taiga.
“The old or new what?” She asks. Though her posture has not changed, there is a clipped tone to her husky voice that had not been present before. The grullo mare is not unaccustomed to any kind of social interaction, but there are those that she finds less favorable than others. This stallion has asked for a place to stay but is less than forthcoming when it comes to questions. Nothing she has asked of him has been personal or exceptionally probing, yet he seems unwilling to share.
He does give her a name at least, though she wonders if it is even his. He seems to think the question he asks is a rhetorical one and so she does not answer it with any of her multitude of potential answers.
Black smoke curls from the once kingdom. He had been nearly the first to slip through the still present walls. But not before he saw the God's, the demons. The falling. His eyes cast back to the mare as her words bite a little more now. The confuse-stricken mare waits impatiently for answers he has with held. It was not on purpose necessarily.
The question she asks sparks amusement nonetheless. He finds a slight cackled chuckle rise, "Taigans. You asked what happened to them... The old or the new." The look on her face confirmed to him she was unaware of the changes, so he continues with a clip to his tone, "The old kingdom had fallen to another. A ghostly stallion and his black beast of a comrade. With dark magic they created a new kingdom. Of which I was enslaved." His neck twists to make known the chafe marks where the irons had been. "So do you wish to know what has become of the old or new Taigans, My Love," a smirk kissed his dark lips as he watched her expression. Expecting possibly bewilderment or more confusion.
Crimson gaze did not leave her this time but his thoughts went to the Taiga. Quickly adding, "You cannot go there to see. The land has fallen to the depths of Beqanna. Her majesty has claimed the wickedness." He waits patiently for her to come to realize all he has said. "Forgive me. I am not crafted in the skill of conversation. My skills are a bit more... Stealthy," his emphasis on his trade.
Behind him, the smoke is stark against the dawn sky. It stains an otherwise lovely horizon, and the wind off the sea tastes much closer than it had the morning before. Though Djinni has no reason to trust this red-eyed stranger, her own senses tell her that the redwood forest is gone, and Ouija confirms that. He tells her much more as well – of a new king, an evil kingdom, and Beqanna’s wrath. The value of Sylva’s diplomats falls ever farther in Djinni’s esteem, and the green-eyed mare sighs quietly in response to the news.
It is not a sad sigh, nor one of malcontent. It sounds a bit weary, but it is mostly resigned.
There is nothing to be done about it now. She had offered protection to Ruan but he had spurned her. This is not on her hands.
Bewilderment hasn’t yet marred her grey face, and it does not do so now. The grullo mare shakes her head before the last sound of her sigh has faded. It is a reset of sort, it seems, for the pied mare shifts back from her relaxed position to better assess this stallion in front of her.
She is already disappointed by the woods; she would rather not continue the pattern.
“And what exactly are your skills, Ouija?” She asks. The appaloosa has just told her that a ghost and a beast were so vile that the Taiga would not hold them. He has told her that he was with them unwillingly. He has told her that he is stealthy. “How do you propose you will make yourself useful here in Sylva?”
Her emerald eyes meet his ruby ones unwaveringly. Two sets of gemstones, it seems, and for a moment Djinni’s are obscured by her long lashes. The dawn sun sparkles off the rings in her ears and bangles on her black ankles, the only visible sign that Djinni is anything more than what she seems.
Sylva is one of the smallest and quietest kingdoms. They have a weak army and a useless diplomatic core. They are the most central and vulnerable kingdom, and yet there has never been a whisper of a threat against them. They seem ripe for the plucking of an evil pair like the one Oiuja has just described.
Something must be keeping them safe, and Djinni is happy to let the rest of Beqanna think that it is Nerine’s protection.
There’s no reason for anyone to suspect a quiet grey mare and a blue-eyed stallion.
Beyond the canopy of reds and gold's the sun is just breaking the horizon. It radiants an array of warm hues that even in winter sates the chill. Even still he does not look up. His eyes stayed locked onto her own. The earthy green of new spring leaves. Finding himself lost in them for a brief moment before the shimmer from her jewelry distracts him. He wonders what sort of speciality she possesses that would require such decor. She has asked him the question first so with a menacing grin he answers, "Oh I'm sure you can find something for me to do... Patrol, recruit,...spy." His one brow lifts slightly hoping for any interest she may have in him staying.
Djinni has made a habit of remaining unknown. She keeps this little bit of forest safe for Nerine, and in exchange gets….
Well, truthfully she gets nothing worthwhile in exchange. She’s never wanted glory or fame, not when they are so easily attained.
The way that the red-eyed stallion has asked if he can stay suggests that her name, at least, is not an unknown. Djinni is the ruler of Sylva; that must be common knowledge. She keeps that in mind when she speaks again; he knows that she is the queen. He knows that it is her decision whether he is able to find refuge here or not.
“That’s not what I asked.” She replies, her tone as flat as her green eyed expression.
There is nothing about this stranger that suggests he would be anything more than a warm body in the kingdom. Sylva is small, and while it might seem intuitive to build their ranks, Djinni has no use for warm bodies. After all, the less residents there are, the more resources they have.
