"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’s not entirely sure why she keeps ending up here. Part of it is probably boredom - the vast wilds of the Jungle can be isolating at times - but the other? She has no idea. She feels like she’s searching for something. Knowledge? Family? She can’t quite put her hoof on it …
But so far she hasn’t managed to find it on any of her trips to the meadow.
In fact what she has managed to find is a lot of disappointment and awkward conversations. It was here that she first ran into, and fought with, her half brother Cason. Here that she’d run into that strange mare …
In fact her last conversation here had gone rather poorly. She had run into an odd beast of a stallion, and had left the meadow with a rather bad taste in her mouth.
And yet for some reason, she keeps coming back.
She stands at the edge of the meadow, orange flecked eyes (so like her grandmother’s) surveying the fields of grass that lie before her. She should probably find someone to talk to (that’s why horses come here right?), but no one is catching her interest at the moment. With a heavy sigh she settles in to the shade of a large oak at the side of the meadow. She may not see anyone interesting … but perhaps someone interesting will find her.
He would probably tell you that he isn’t, that he hasn’t done much, and that he can’t do anything terribly special. He lives (for now) in a cool place, though; there’s a sphinx-like dog named Gumby riding around, and in some places the sand is pink, and they have two magicians in residence, and a giant oak tree that exists where one shouldn’t. So that’s nifty. But Gaza? Gaza doesn’t know what he is. Or who is is - who he wants to be.
They’ll probably end up having an awkward conversation. Gaza is polite, but somewhat awkward. He’s like that quiet lit or comp sci major who’s attractive, but doesn’t know it, and despite spending two years at college already, has never gone really crazy.
Anyway, it’s just past the peak of summer, and while the heat in the Meadow is not quite as intense as the heat in the Desert, it still packs a bit of a punch. And Gaza is black and big, so he’s just feeling great in the mid-day sun. His golden eyes (courtesy of Yael, the only bit that is like her) picked out the biggest tree, the one with the leafiest branches and the most shade, and he starts towards. Of course, there’s someone already beneath it, but that’s not going to deter our ex-prince today. The big, black, half-draft stallion has a bit of a smile on his face, but nothing that says ‘I’m going to hit on you’ or ‘Get the eff out of my way.’ Pleasantly neutral. Good guy Gaza.
“Hi,” he says when he is within speaking distance, looking at the gray spotted mare. “Don’t mind me, I’m just going to enjoy the shade on the other side of this tree…” And then he crosses in front of her to get to the other side of the tree. The tree doesn’t quite hide all of him, though, leaving both his front and back end still in sight. After settling himself into a comfortable stance, Gaza cranes his head back around and says simply, “I’m Gaza, by the way. Nice to meet you.”
As she looks out across the meadow, her mind wanders. She wonders how many horses have passed through this territory through the years. From what she knows, the meadow has been here since the very start of Beqanna - an eternal, unchanging presence. Lives have changed here, relationships made and lost, lives started and ended … history made.
It was here that her grandmother had run into the stallion that had attacked her. Here that, in the heat of the assault, Lyris’ mother had been created. A simple, every day horrible act, that had changed so much. Without it, Lyris would not be here.
Odd to think about, really. Such a horrible thing to be thankful for. But she is. Because without it she wouldn’t exist.
She shakes her head suddenly, trying to clear her head. Such a weird, melancholy train of thought.
Thankfully a welcome distraction is on its way. As she tries to concentrate on the land before her, a large black shape moving in her direction catches her attention. She focuses in, curious. It’s a stallion, a massive black stallion. He continues on towards her, not stopping until he too is under the shade of the oak. He says he’s here for the shade and while she doesn’t entirely believe him (she’s met too many horses with ulterior motives), she lets it be. There’s no point in trying to call him on it, and besides, the oak probably is the only tree in the meadow throwing enough shade to cover his bulk.
He seems friendly enough anyway (and not at all like the last weirdo she met here), and she flashes a smile at his head as it sticks out from behind the tree. “Lyris. Nice to meet you.” God he really is a big creature, must be some draft in there somewhere. Probably doesn’t do well in the summer heat. “Heat getting to yah there big guy?” She snorts quietly. “Want some help with that?”
The heat is always getting to him. Being big and black does that, he supposes, and if he had known his father just a little big longer, he probably would have joined him in the Yael-made shade.
You would think that being a child of the Desert would make him a big heat-resistant. Alas, I think there’s just too much of Gaza for that to happen. Something to do with muscle mass and black attracting the sun’s heat more than white and well… you get the picture. Luckily, this tree’s branches are long enough to encompass him, even if the trunk does split him oddly in half. It must be an amusing sight. He chuckles. “You’d think a son of the Desert would be able to handle it, right? But apparently not…” There’s a reason he isn’t in the Desert right now.
He could rest beneath the shade of his father… but that somehow seems a little morbid. Yael still mourns him there, and it is often too much for him.
Gaza perks up at the offer, tilting his head a bit in confusion, because how could she…? “Hell yes. But what could you possibly do to help?” And then, rather playfully, he lowers his head a bit and looks up and over at her from mock-skeptical eyes. “And what is it going to cost me, hmmmm?”
He kind of really hopes she'll play along... it would be a shame for his first attempt at flirting to crash and burn most horribly.
He’s a little handsome, now that she thinks on it. In a big, awkward sort of way. Not really her type usually (she likes a man with a little more experience), but she can still appreciate. At least he’s a sight better looking (and more friendly!) than the last guy she met here.
She can’t help but chuckle too, when he mentions being from the Deserts. Definitely not the first kingdom she would have guessed, considering how he’s reacting to the heat. “The Deserts eh? They might wanna rethink how they’re making them these days then.” A stallion as big and black as himself can’t do well in all that sand and sun. Especially when he’s clearly doing so poorly in the summer heat of the meadow, which can’t be near as bad as it gets in the Deserts. Perhaps that’s why he’s here to begin with!
He certainly perks up though at her offer. Her smile widens and she winks playfully. “Oh a few things …” She throws her head up to the sky, concentrating hard. It’s always difficult to bring out weather that’s against the season, but she’s always up for a little challenge. The air around them chills and a white cloud gathers overhead. She manages to pull a few, tiny snowflakes out of the cloud before she returns her gaze to Gaza.
“Hmmm … how ‘bout a kiss?” She’s a little amused with her own brazenness - she’s usually not one for flirting - but she just goes with it. Why not have a little fun? He is cute after all …
Every experienced man was once inexperienced, though they may have never had an extensive period of prolonged adolescence. Besides, who’s to say that some cougars don’t just love corrupting the innocent young men, wrapping them around their freshly manicured nails for a bit of attention and arm candy? That is what Lyris is doing, right?
He shrugs, in a sort of ‘what can you do?’ way. Vanquish was only comfortably with help from Yael, and as he didn’t have magical co-ruler and lover, he might just be shit out of luck for now. And then, for some strange reason, he has a desire to tell her what he’s been mulling over in his mind for awhile. “Eh. Nice, safe place to grow up in, but I’m thinking of settling down somewhere else. Someplace with a lot of… green.” He chuckles at his own choice of words. The Desert is anything but green. That left a few options… all of which he was currently debating. Except the Jungle. He probably wasn’t going to go to the Jungle.
Golden eyes watch her as she concentrates on the sky, and then his gaze also travels upwards as the temperature rapidly drops. And then his jaw drops. A little bit. In awe. Cause that is fucking awesome. Gaza watches the few flakes start to tumble freely through the sky, before they melt at his hooves. He grins, and then looks at her, right before she asks for a kiss. Gaza laughs at this, of course, saying, “Any lady with a great trick like that deserves a kiss.”With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Gaza comes ‘round the tree and presses his nose to the soft part of her cheek, tracing the curve down her face, to the line of her nose, and then finally, to her soft, whiskery lips, where he lingers a moment, before lipping at a couple of stray strands of her forelock.
She had noticed that he's younger, but as she stands there grinning, she's suddenly struck by how very young he must be. He has no scars, grey hairs or wear marks of any kind to show any signs of aging ... he can't be older than five. Barely out of childhood. She feels a little like she's corrupting him. What fun!
"Ahh I see. Well the Jungle is green, but I don't think it would appeal to you all that much." If he can't even handle the dry heat of the the Desert, there's no way he could stand the thick, muggy heat of the Jungle. She even has trouble with it at times and she's lived there for most of her life! "The Gates is supposed to be quite green?" Another kingdom she has yet to visit - she should get on that. "The Falls too." And that one she can at least confirm personally.
When she finally pulls out her trick, she feels more than a little pleased to see the shock and awe on his face. She certainly does like to make an impression.
He however, manages to surprise her in return with his boldness. Instead of becoming flustered like she would have expected from most stallions his age, he rises to the challenge and gives her, well, way more than a simple peck. If she'd been human, she would have had a line of goosebumps along the path his muzzle and lips had taken.
She's a little flustered and it surprises her. She's used to being the one doing the frustrating, used to being the one to shock and annoy others with her behaviour. But she covers it as best she can (the only sign is a slight rise in the air temperature) and smirks at him. "You call that a kiss?! I think you can do better!" And she is entirely willing to test it.
Perhaps she's not the one who's going to do the corrupting.
