"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
He does not remember much, not of what had happened that day. He is full of red, and black and grey…. So much grey. Sometimes he would rather feel hatred or anger or sadness instead of this seemingly endless apathy, an emptiness which threatens to swallow him. Threatens, and carries it out, usually. Most days he is indifferent, he eats, he drinks, he sleeps. He feels very little, but when he does feel, the feelings come in brief bursts and leave him curled up with his nose against his belly, tight.
He doesn’t remember much. Perhaps it is a coping mechanism, to block it all out so he can continue to survive. He is good at that, surviving, he spent his whole childhood making a kind of half-life for himself, where he was safe. Disconnected and quiet, but safe. Thinking about it makes it worse, so he doesn’t think about it. Instead he looks at the leaves, the dewdrops (...dewdrops - the word stirs something in him but he tries to forget. It was a lifetime ago, after all). Admires the flowers. Says to himself ‘Nice flowers’. Eats some more. Sleeps, but mostly fails to sleep.
Tephra.
Watches the sunrise. Follows the curve of the hill with his nose. Eats. Sleeps. Doesn’t sleep. Wakes. Eats. Drinks. Sleeps. If they were anywhere, they would be at Tephra. Eats. Drinks. Doesn’t sleep.
The next day, with the sun rising across the hills, he stirs himself. Rises up, against, crosses rivers which barely seem to touch him (though his skin is wet). Despite the fact he had almost lived there once, he had never been there before. It was a long time ago - Offspring has probably moved on now. He hopes at least to find Maribel, if she has survived. Perhaps their children (though he doubts they would stick around and mope - they are strong, and wild, and free… his pride, their future, but most importantly, gone).
His hollow eyes scan their surroundings. He doesn’t know where their boundary is, doesn’t particularly care. Only an idiot would find a threat in him, more skeleton and dust than muscle and sleek fur these days. He stops. He eats. Drinks. Waits.
@[Offspring] @[Reagan] @[Maribel]
Anyone welcome to reply, if you want solo threads just say so!
12-15-2017, 04:13 PM (This post was last modified: 12-16-2017, 12:08 PM by Longclaw.)
LONGCLAW
-I close my eyes, ignore the smoke-
Longclaw hopes to the heavens that he’ll never find Immortality.
Prays, silently, that he won’t end up having to lay his own children to rest or watch his lover fade to nothing. Time steals everything, but when you steal some back oh god how it makes you pay.
The blue warg isn't hidden in his approach but he is cloaked in his wolfskin. He needs neither of those things because Tephra is his home and there’s nothing to fear, but for some reason the tug of his ancestral, second body is too hard to ignore. There is, of course, the security that comes with his power (even the thought stirs a longing to release it for show) but age and first-hand sight has given him knowledge enough to know even his particular brand of flame can be outdone.
There’s always someone faster, someone wiser, someone better. He used to care about things like that.
Now he cares about if his mate is eating enough, (has Wildling fed today? The others?) he cares if Diorae will return to him, (she’d been transformed, but at what cost?) and as he draws to a slow halt near the obviously unencumbered elder, wonders what the spotted stallion might be searching for.
“The Beach is a little further south, wanderer.” He jests. A bit harsh he supposes but his nature can't be stifled with things like courtesy, especially when borders have been casually forgotten. Not that he sees the purpose in them anyways - Claw would revel in the challenge. “But if it’s Tephra you wanted, well … I guess I’m the welcoming party.”
The sun is just rising but Warrick has been awake long before that. The night sky brings him to life beneath the moon and stars, and the blue-bay stallion hardly finds himself sleeping fully through it. There had been a time, a few years ago now, if he would allow himself to think on it, where he could find rest between the sunset and the sunrise - but until her return, he doubts sleep will truly find him again. With the golden rays of Tephra’s golden sun filtering onto the indigo of his feathers and warming the auburn of his back, the new Overseer stirs and begins to move, his head heavy with doubt and worry, but his heart beating strongly in his chest.
He sees the wolf before he notices the stranger, his intense blue gaze fastening on the canine that stands before the smoky black stallion, a gentle snort leaving his indigo nostrils. Warrick has never seen Longclaw in his wolf form, but the scent of him is familiar and brings him a sense of peace to know that the iridescent blue stallion still patrols the borders with skill and duty.
At a slow trot, he brings himself up beside the wolf (a strange experience, but his face only exudes stoicism and calmness), a flicker of his eyes towards Longclaw as a sign of recognition, and the hint of a dip of his head in greeting. The wolf has already ‘welcomed’ the stranger, and Warrick does nothing to suggest a different tone should be used - the stranger’s scent is unfamiliar and uncertain, and though it is obvious he is not well, Warrick has been disillusioned before. His feathers rustle at his sides as he flexes his wings, knowing that with Longclaw by his side that Tephra would be represented as a fierce and strong country; Warrick has seen his powers, and is not in the least bit worried if the conversation ended up going south.
“Yes,” the winged stallion begins, echoing Longclaw’s question: “how can we help you?”
12-16-2017, 12:20 PM (This post was last modified: 12-16-2017, 12:22 PM by Reagan.)
Reagan
Say something, I'm giving up on you.
She has been waiting for his moment - biding her time.
The last time Reagan saw Romek, he was handing her the keys to the forest, and then with tired eyes, she watched the tiger walk away from his responsibility, turning over the sense of power and guardianship of the forest to the one who would, at the very least by proxy, watch it all fall to piece.
Reagan has paid a heavy price, and the guilt she carries had silenced her presence in these lands for the years that she has been raising her daughter.
And yet, when the time came, she had known that the tiger would return. In those last days. Beqanna's magic precluded in such ways that goodbyes pretty much always come around, and in her heart she knew that this would be the last time she saw Romek, formerly of the Tundra and the Taiga. Even so, the moment she feels his presence, she steps into the void, watching the exchange of a wolf, and then her king - a prick inside his mind and the warm flooding of her power would show memories of him with her daughter, to which the Grey lady finds great offense - And yet she watches, and waits.
They come, one by one - the muscle, and then the crown, and when all is settled, and before the tiger can make his pleantries, Reagan releases her hold on Warrick's mind - with intent to inform him later of his transgressions - and steps out of her invisible bubble, a cold look resting in her eyes. "Romek. I knew you would come one day. But even the passage of time cannot pin down precisely when. Especially with a roaming tiger such as yourself."
She waxes poetically, as is her way when she is on an official visit. Her grey body is short and stalky, but her brilliant green eyes pierce and throw metaphorical daggers directly at the black stallion with the bioluminescent spots. For a moment, the other two are forgotten. They are there to protect Tephra. Reagan is there to protect her heart.
Where was Romek when Ruan cast her out? Where was Romek when Gryffen inserted himself as the Ghost King of the trees? And where was Romek when Carnage had seen fit to tear down all they together had built... Where was...
"Where have you been? I have been waiting for you."
The spotted stallion settles into a more comfortable position as the grey wolf approaches. He is no stranger to shifters, and especially not to wolves.
’The beach is a little further south, wanderer.’ Romek looks at Longclaw for a moment with unsettlingly steady eyes, before breaking into a small chuckle. He had been young and enthusiastic about border patrol duties once, too (and despite everything, a sharp wit is something he can still appreciate).
A winged brown and blue stallion is the next to appear, standing in solidarity beside the wolf Romek watches them passively; perhaps even boredly. He had never had much interest in the song-and-dance, smoke-and-mirrors of interkingdom relations. He had seen it all, and it was all equally unimpressive.
He nods, though, a polite smile on his face. ”Yes, actually, I am looking for…”
He is interrupted by his name and his attention snaps away to the newcomer - Reagan, of course Reagan. They had been good friends back in the Taiga, although judging by the icebeams currently shooting from her eyes in his direction, he supposes they aren’t anymore. He hadn’t seen her for so many years - the last time he had heard of her was when she left the Taiga. Ruan had said something about… loyalty? It’s a blur, it’s all buried in layers of time and fog. She had betrayed Ruan and had chosen to leave the Taiga entirely. Romek had not pried - it wasn’t his relationship, wasn’t his business. They were all free to leave as they wished, come and go as they pleased - the spotted stallion hadn’t held it against her. She would turn up eventually, he knew… although he had not expected it to be like this.
”I could ask you the same thing?”
He is not angry: he doesn’t blame the magician for leaving, has no bitter feelings towards her. The Taiga had never been a chain to hold you down and in, it hadn’t been a prison. And, goodness, he had never been its dictator. A shadow in the forest certainly; but he had never tried to interfere. The Taiga had never belonged to him (and heavens knows, after the Deserts, and then the Tundra, he knew better than to get attached to a physical chunk of land).
”Forgive me, I am confused. You disappear from our home for whatever reason… do not bother to check in with us ever again… but you...you’re angry with me? Why?”
He frowns (although he feels he could laugh with absurdity of it all) and turns back to the wolf and the stallion, tilting his head slightly.
”I came here to look for Maribel - have you possibly seen her? White and gold, very pretty, although she is a colour-changer so she could be any colour, really.”
Warrick arrives and brings with him a feeling of ease. There’s nothing to be garnered from Romek’s laugh or his King’s inquiry; this is strictly business after all, nothing more, but when a grey mare steps out into the open quite literally from thin air - well, Longclaw has reason to pause.
He detests magicians.
Claw can’t know for sure that she is one - this creature. She could be a teleporter for all he guesses. What he does know is that there’d been no inclination of her approach, no smell or sound to associate her coming, just a visible sort of suddenness that unnerves him. That, along with the fact that she completely disregards Warrick and himself to take matters into her own hands, like she didn’t care for reprimands or necessarily fear them.
Normally, it would turn him on. Now it just reminds him of Deimos, and that sorry fuck was on the same shit list in his mind as Wyrm. It made his nose itch with irritation. Romek understands the necessity of his visit and he makes it clear that it’s not to dabble with this gray lady, whoever she might be, and so his question drags the wolf’s head around to pin him once more with a curious stare.
“Never heard of her and if she’s here, she’s hidden good.” He barks softly, choosing to settle into a comfortable sit. Knowing his luck, though, the woman he described would materialize like the storm-colored one just to prove him wrong. Women enjoyed that crap. “Don’t take my word on it though, see for yourself if Warrick will have you.” he finishes, rolling the buff of his slate-colored shoulders in a noncommittal shrug.
Five more minutes of this back-and-forth and he’d leave. There wasn’t much left for him to do anyways aside from tilting a sage head in his King’s direction to await any further instruction.
A tight grip fastens around him mentally and the Overseer ruffles his feathers anxiously, a hooded glance shifting between both Longclaw and the stranger. Indigo tipped ears flick backwards into the thickness of his ebony mane, cobalt lips twitching unhappily at the feeling - someone, whether it be this stranger or a new presence on the cusp of visibility, is flipping through his mind like a book. Fortunately, only a few moments pass and he can feel the grip lessening, and with curled lips he begins to take a step forward to interrogate this stranger further - how dare he slip into his mind?
But suddenly, a woman appears - a ghost among Tephra’s flames and ash - and though her appearance to him throughout his country is fleeting, the dark lady’s sudden materialization does not startle him; only because he had a name to go with the strong and icy expression on her face.
Reagan. He says to himself in his mind; he would know her anywhere, and though never officially holding a conversation, the dark mare joins them. For a moment his mind flickers to Ceara, the red velvet and ebony woman from a few days past, but he quickly pushes her from his mind when the magician begins to speak. His vibrant eyes follow her as she gracefully steps forward, a name coming from the darkness of her lips that now belongs to the stranger before them. Romek. A name with great recognition but with an invisible face, a memory lost among Taiga’s destruction.
Warrick can feel Longclaw’s displeasure, the prickling of the wolf’s skin matching Warrick’s own fluttering wings - suddenly, Taiga’s problems have now spurted onto Tephra’s land.
The Overseer allows Reagan her piece and as well as Romek’s - the tension is palpable and grows, and when Romek addresses both Warrick and Longclaw again, the blue-bay responds first with a sharp snort and a furrowed brow. The name from the bioluminescent stallion is unfamiliar and for a moment, Warrick is glad. The unrest between the magician and the Taigian is obviously not resolved, and for now, Tephra holds no duty in solving it.
Longclaw - truthful as ever, and even more blunt - swiftly and gratefully answers Romek with the same information Warrick would have given him. The name Maribel means nothing, and does not bring a memory to his mind. He’s about to dismiss Longclaw to return to his guard duty, but with the uneasy magician near him and with a stranger that could hold the same abilities, the winged-stallion keeps the fire-wielding wolf at his side for a moment longer.
“Taiga’s troubles seem never-ending,” he muses thoughtfully with a flick of his tail at his heels, quiet eyes flickering from Reagan and then Romek. “Obviously there is much of the past to discuss between the two of you. It will not be settled any further inside Tephra - fight, discuss, what have you - if an understanding is met, you may enter Tephra I will happily escort you myself to be sure a Maribel isn’t hiding amongst the smoke and salt.”
His tranquil gaze rests with finality on Romek, a quiet solemnity in his eyes. Family is complicated and so are friendships - the stallion knows of the once-shifters that reigned within the forests, and he understands the foundation that has obviously crumbled between Reagan and Romek. However, the blue-winged stallion will not allow any ill-will from the past to be brought in to spoil Tephra, even if the source of the malice began with one of their own.
12-18-2017, 06:03 PM (This post was last modified: 12-18-2017, 06:07 PM by Reagan.)
Reagan
Say something, I'm giving up on you.
She smiles, her icy grin plastered like icicles ripe for the taking. Longclaw's contempt for her was as plain as the nose on his well point face, and she looks to him, and whispers into his mind. My wolf form is better than yours. You still have much to learn, pup. Her eyes are set on his for a heavily fleeting moment before she turns attention to Romek, and to Warrick. The blue guard was doing his job, and thus, until he came after Reagan on a personal level, she had no further quarrel with him. Just the individual... not their power.
"I apologize for the inconvenience, Warrick, but you seem to have me convinced as one of your knee-bending subjects." Reagan's green eyes settle on the bright blue of the Overseer, and she sees why he has captured Ceara's fancy. He was strong - solid - and seeks only the protection of those who reside within Tephra's borders...except - "Offspring brought me here for my safety and I would very much like to see his face when you tell me that I am to leave it. Tephra is my home, and..." She stops here to catch her breath, her chest heaving with raw emotion. "I am not going anywhere." She eyes the Overseer, judgment reigning all over her face. "I know you know who I am, Warrick, and I know what you have done. You are a great leader. But do not think for one minute that I am afraid to separate my King from the man standing before me."
Reagan then settles her sights on Romek, the wanderer. The one who clung to the shadows in the times of darkness. Her heart ached with happiness to know that her old friend was alive, but - "No one has seen Maribel, Romek. She disppeared with a brokenheart after you left her to fend for herself. Even with all I see, I don't know if she survived the fall of Taiga." Her heart is heavy with the news, but she speaks the truth. "Your daughters live, and your son. Aquilo is in the forest, and whispers in the trees say that Ana has joined a herd. The twins. They are around. You are not alone, Romek."
Reagan has given Romek all the information she knew he desired, save one. First, she would seek information of her own. "I want to know what happened to you in the forest. We were such great friends. And yet... after all that happened..." A tear falls into the black volcanic earth, an exotic plant growing in his its place. "You stood back and watch it happen. You watched it all happen. And now you're back. I want to know why. A beat, and a breath. "I want to know now, so that I can put this nightmare behind me and keep on living."
"Offspring is here, somewhere - since I know he is also on your mind."
![[Image: sScEgld.png]](http://i.imgur.com/sScEgld.png)
