"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 silence that builds between them momentarily does not make Wound uncomfortable. She’s sure the situation might be difficult for Solace to swallow, or at least it gives her something to chew on. She takes the moment to evaluate the scenery of Hyaline with a casual eye, this time noting the swell of the mountains and scent of lake-water on the autumn breeze. Solace seems to fit in well with the kingdom’s aesthetic and even the simple way she moves tells Wound that she is comfortable being here.
The silvery mare turns her attention back toward the queen as she begins speaking of Hyaline’s history. Wound is quiet as Solace muses aloud, noting the way her voice seems to speak as though she were lost in her mind. Wishbone prances along beside Kagerus in the meantime, even doing tightly-knit circles around bushes that spring up just past the group’s trail.
Wound is content to hear the queen’s reasoning behind her political views. It’s understandable thinking, especially considering Hyaline’s reputation as a sanctuary. The Tephran diplomat supposes she could find herself content here, though more in the way someone of age might retire to a getaway destination. The lifestyle of this kingdom seems quiet and comfortable, but Wound wouldn’t dare mention how she sees it as the place of her elderly retreat in the future.
“I’m glad to know you won’t stand for being taken advantage of.” Her voice is warm, eyes glancing out toward the lake in the nearing distance. “Tephra plans to form alliances with Sylva and Ischia,” she admits. Beqanna’s political world is at peace for now, with alliances in formation and everyone resting easy at night. Something tells Wound it won’t stay that way for very long (history has a tendency to repeat itself) but there are no foreseeable rough waters at this point.
As Kagerus replies to Wishbone, the filly’s gaze lands on the mentioned mountains. She pictures herself climbing them already, reaching the highest peaks like a graceful mountain goat or perhaps soaring through the sky like a predatory hawk. “I would love to come here again and climb those mountains.” Her voice is an awed hush, caught up in the picture playing through her mind.
The sound of pounding hoofbeats draws her away from her daydreaming. A golden stallion covered in lake-matter is barreling down on them and Wishbone’s heart skitters to the beat of his feet. Wound’s gaze pulls away from Solace’s to glance over at the newcomer. He is a kindred spirit to the queen, though their colorings differ slightly. She chalks it up to another of Warrick’s children (though she wasn’t aware of Solace’s twin) and offers the stallion a warm smile over Solace’s shoulder.
“I’m Wound, a diplomat from Tephra. And this is” — before she can reply Wishbone is twisting from the back of the group to come around the front, nose poking against Svedka’s belly and chest. Her sable nose stains a darker shade as the lake-water douses her, but she gives her own reply to Wound’s introduction. “I’m Wishbone! Where’d you come from? You smell good!”
03-06-2018, 10:49 PM (This post was last modified: 03-06-2018, 11:25 PM by Solace.)
Solace
Had she know this diplomat's thoughts on retirement the young caretaker's gaze would have hardened and her speech curtailed. Although she touted the hard-earned reputation as a sanctuary, a final resting place for the feeble and aged was the opposite of what Hyaline had been built for, what she hoped it would someday become. If it was nothing more than a tolerably pleasant place for foreign diplomats to tuck away in the back of their minds, she had failed Amet.
In these days of sparse young Hyaline was structured very similarly to Tephra, it just happened to be on the opposite side of the continent.
A fact Warrick's firstborn seldom forgot.
"And what of Loess and Nerine, was there a reason they were left out? What terms will you be offering these kingdoms you mentioned? Military backing? It hardly seems reasonable to commit bodies to every kingdom - that would make it impossible to stay true to you allies should conflict arise."
But she wonders if her words have a chance to reach Wound before there is a flurry of activity and the cascade of energy which is Svedka appears.
He always surprises her, yet she remains eternally enchanted by him. There was a mystery to her twin she would never understand, and a waywardness which was much more palatable when found in a sibling as opposed to a mother.
She waits for him to interact with the girl who she knows will immediately catch his attention. After the filly introduces herself Solace steps away from her duty and towards the youthful trio (diplomacy can wait) deciding it is best for Svedka to be aware of the connection that everyone else is privy to.
"Brother, Wishbone is our sister," She says to both her twin and her half-sister, her encouraging cerulean gaze linger on the later.
caretaker of hyaline
to clarify - Hyaline was a sub-kingdom of Nerine (Nyla) for several years when Amet first ruled (Not Tephra)
xD
Out with the golden we sew, and the lower past that crawls.
Now, to the doorway you run, to the girl that's not lost.
The quartet walks the rest of the way fairly pleasantly, with Kagerus and Wishbone exchanging quiet words, while ahead of them the diplomats discuss. The overo mare still listens intently, but for now it seemed as if there wasn't much that was essential to hear. So, relaxing some, the mare finished the rest of the journey in companionable silence, though sometimes she was glad to answer some bubbly question of Wishbone's.
A stallion joins their group then, one that Kag doesn't recognize, but which Solace announces as her brother. Hmmm. A family gathering, out of the blue like this - Kag couldn't help but feel a bit out of place. Watching as the final interactions took place between them all, the mare quietly came along Solace's side and pressed her nose to the queen's shoulder, hoping she wasn't interrupting too rudely.
"I'll leave you to the family matters, queen Solace," she murmured, smiling pleasantly. She didn't mind not having a place to be in this conversation, but she had more pressing things on her mind than watching this: not because she wasn't interested, but more because she had a baby growing inside of her that was slowly sapping her life source.
Nodding to others and excusing herself quietly, Kagerus backed from the lack and turned to trot off to the forest to find a warm thicket to nap in.
He has no idea what he’s interrupted (something boring, he’s sure, and they should be thankful that he’s there to liven up the party!), and so remains breathless and smiling, his bright blue eyes sliding from each differently colored pairs before resting on Solace’s. She introduces the littlest filly - and though the fact might have shocked or even confused anyone else, it did not with Svedka. She is pushing against him with her soft nose, sniffing at the freshwater that still clings to his coat and the algae that hangs from his tangled mane and tail.
His brows rise amusedly, throwing his chin into his chest with an encouraging nicker. “A sister!” he declares, lowering his head to look at Wishbone at her own eye level, then turning his head so that they are nearly nose to nose. “Yes yes,” he murmurs to himself, “it’s definitely there, I can see it.” He’s grinning at the bay filly, and Solace’s attention is now on the one that is obviously the mother. Svedka still is drawn to the unfamiliar woman that smells strictly of Hyaline - there is no familiar ash or salt on her skin from Tephra - but he is too engrossed in his new family member to interrupt yet again so that she would give him her name. He makes a note to find her later, especially when she quietly excuses herself from Solace, a glimmer in his eye at the title of Queen. It suits her incredibly, but he cannot help but remember playing as children at the base of the volcano, when Solace pretended to be queen.
It really has been so long ago.
Svedka noses at Wishbone’s short and cropped mane, enjoying the familiar scent of ash and smoke that lingers there. “You smell good too!” he replies with a soft snort, “Have you climbed the volcano yet?” His gaze flickers to Solace with a gleam in his eye, remembering the time they tried to trek to the top themselves. He’s forgotten his manners, and when he looks at Solace he suddenly remembers. “I’m Svedka,” he says, introducing himself to both Wound and Wishbone.
lthough Wound would have loved to respond to Solace’s questions about their diplomatic purposes, the arrival of Svedka catches her off-guard. When the Hyaline queen departs from her shoulder, Wound doesn’t move with her. She knows — though only faintly — of the familial relationship between Warrick and Tangerine and their children. While Wound herself had daydreamed about her own close-knit family (complete with a charming father who loves her dearly), things hadn’t turned out the exact way she had planned. She has no intention of ruining their rosy happiness.
So she stays back, offering a gentle nod in the splashed mare’s direction as she departs. “It was nice to meet you, Kagerus.” Her words are truly felt; the diplomat seems like a sweet mare and Wound would love to get to know her on a separate occasion, should time and weather allow it.
Meanwhile, Wishbone’s heart is nearly bursting. Not only does she have one sibling, but she has two! And the second one seems woven from the same cloth as herself — careening into conversations where she should hold her tongue, swimming through lakes on cloudy days, climbing mountains and fighting off cougars.
When Svedka’s nose leans toward hers, Wishbone blows a warm breath into his nostrils. It’s an ancient greeting — one that is rarely used nowadays — but she finds the strength of instinct to tug at her soul. Then he’s asking her about the challenge that might be the very death of her — that damned volcano.
Her amber eyes are glowing with mingled excitement and frustration, remembering the countless days when she had returned to her mother with bruised knees and bleeding shoulders. “I try every single day,” she admits. “If I don’t reach the top soon, I think I might die of disappointment.” She’s exaggerating, hyped up on the series of events that have led to these delicious moments.
Wound steps closer as they introduce themselves, coffee-brown eyes warm and sincere. Her heart is comforted by the sight of Wishbone interacting with the other pieces of her family. She cannot deny the personality resemblance between Svedka and Wishbone (she supposes her daughter might one day come racing to meet strangers with seaweed and salt-water soaking her body).
![[Image: kag]](https://78.media.tumblr.com/2e8039018ce4dff6112c167ec23e886a/tumblr_p72zjit7wC1s5a0qvo1_100.png)
