"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 was born in beqanna with a twin who has since gone seperate ways. He remained a silent nomad over the past few years. He decided now was as good a time as any to make an appearance, to come out of his hiding.
He was a stallion now, no longer a mere child having fun with his sister with no worry in the world. Now that he was older he had to be aware of the malicious plans some equines have. He was a rather calm stag, he had no interest in politics, perhaps all he truly wanted was friendship. He missed his dearest sister, even though they were twins it was abnormal to remain near each other for there entire lives.
He finds himself in a familiar place, the meadow. He casually moves through the meadow, he scans for an equine of interest to converse with. He could not find any and instead decides to wait for another to approach. His two tusks that poke out from his mouth make him stand out, surely someone will grow interested enough to approach him on this cool autumn night.
This time of year is no fun to find food in on this side of the world – well, it is difficult to find the right flora no matter which end of Beqanna she’s on, really, as it has to be specialized. Lucky for her there have been magical creatures of all types here for millennia, and the nectar eating kind, big and small, are nothing new, so the plants have adapted just as they have. She has always followed her keen sense of smell to find where the sweet liquid lies in wait, untouched, usually – not many lepitdoptera like her about anymore, apparently.
Frost blankets the meadow, seeming to glow a white-blue beneath the sliver of moon that hangs above in a cloudless sky. She flies as quietly as a star twinkles, not even the beat of her powdered wings can be heard as she soars low, her eyes peeled for anything night-blooming and frost loving. She knows they’re here, she can smell them.
When her toes touch the cold ground her feelers atop her head unfurl, and she extends her neck to sniff the air while she walks. Her colorful wings fold flat, each wing in two parts to put themselves away neatly, their tails flowing behind but do not drag. Her eyes, her detailed, sensitive eyes catch sight of glowing in her peripherals.
It is an equine, his points aglow, tusks protruding from his mouth. She contemplates simply walking away, but she has more than likely been spotted by now and if he looks her way, she will smile rather nervously.
09-06-2018, 06:47 PM (This post was last modified: 09-06-2018, 06:47 PM by Snout.)
Snout
He enjoyed the silence, the nomad life taught him that much...but his silence was soon enough disrupted. He hears the flapping of another, one with wings landing on earths core he imagines. He takes a moment to decide if he should bother looking or keep to himself, but curiosity got the best of him and his head shifts towards the source of the sound.
Off in the distance he can see another, she was a very short pale mare. What truly caught his attention was the wings on her back and the antennas protruding from her dome. The wings were not that of a normal equine...they were like an insect? He tilts his head slightly in confusion and interest. Here he is, thinking he was one of a kind...but she...she was one of a kind!
They're eyes meet and she only responds with a nervous a smile, a huff of a laugh escapes his maw and he makes his way over towards the pale mare. He stops when he is a few paces from her and dips his head slightly Good evening, my name is Snout. He raises his head to find her gaze with a warm smile. A good portion of his body was glowing, and he imagined it would be hard to keep gaze on him for long with so much light. He would not hold it against her, I have never seen you around before...are you from here? I mean who was truly from the meadow? Nomads, but nomads are exactly that, they do not have a home. Nomads roam as they please, he had never seen her but she does not seem to be new to beqanna. A new equine would be more afraid of strangers and the land istelf, instead he patiently awaits to hear from her own lips.
She picks her head up slowly as he comes near, his body language certainly tells her he isn’t about to strike, or commit some terrible magical act – it is a simple approach, a friendly one, she ponders. She band an ear back with thought, keeping one on him, her wings twitching nervously. She nods to his name, his greeting is familiar and polite, she analyzes. Her big, abnormally big, eyes blink in slow motion, watching him carefully as he speaks again. This time both ears flick backward, not flat, but just backward for a moment before she lets a single golden ear face forward.
“Olea.” She speaks soft, like a breeze. It melts from her rather than spilling, or smacking the air. She doesn’t speak often, but does not harbor any inability to do so when prompted either. Her language is her body, her eyes, and only sometimes her smooth, warm satin voice.
“Born here.” She starts to smile now, looking over the glow of his points. Her eyes find his again, you were too, I see. She blinks.
She was not like many of the equines in beqanna, and not just her looks, no her personality. She was calm, and more reserved than the average horse he has run into. All the equines are power hungry, always looking for the next step in backstabbing there lover or kingdom. She seemed different...or perhaps she was just a master at doing exactly that.
She does not say much but she mentions her name, Olea he nods in acknowledgement. Her voice was gentle, and soft, quietness that he did not mind. She says that she was born here and he nods his head once more. A wide variety of equines lived in beqanna, most of them came in odd colors, some shifted into other animals (like his damn sister who was the preferred sibling), and then there were a select few equines in beqanna who were truly one of a kind. Olea here was living proof, Snout was too, at least he has never met any like her or him.
She finds his gaze and notes that he was born in beqanna as well and a small chuckle passed his lips Yes, never called a kingdom home though. he throws the fact into conversation. It was true he never called a kingdom home, and he finds himself living in Tephra more than the meadow....but he still remains a nomad, his home is wherever he so chooses. She did not smell of any kingdom, and so he only assumes that she lives the nomad life as well. What brings you out tonight? Maybe she just enjoyed the silence that the night life offers, he was not one to judge.
They seem to watch each other in the silence, the cold cold silence. Winter has not exactly gripped the meadow yet, but the frosty air is cold enough. She tilts her head to the side, one half veiled by her long flaxen hair draped down her oddly marked nose. “Flowers.” She explains, blinking and slashing her tail once across each hip. She looks to him and then to the copse of trees just ahead and begins to walk, turning back to him, coming along? her voice doesn’t melt from her now but her eyes say it just as clearly as her mouth would.
As they walk down the hill there is a faint blue and green glow in the cage of trees just ahead. “Nerine was my home for a while.” She says this softly when she’s sure he’s beside her to hear it, slipping between the bristly conifers. Once inside the circle (circle-ish) of trees the treasure see seeks stands in beautiful form, hanging above them on thick stems, giant blooms of greens and blues and a little bit of gold. “This.” She finds his face with her eyes, wondering what he might think – he would assume a moth girl needs, nectar, yes? She smiles demurely.
And suddenly the magic of her rarity becomes obvious. She is weightless on her fluttering wings, just like any winged insect that can hover and glide on the wind. She shoves her face in one or two, swallowing happily with only a few beats of her papery wings needed. She lands again beside him, folding her wings to her sides, cleaning her cheeks with her long tongue. “Nectar.” she tells him with a smile.
Oleandar
the moth-child of elysium & city
if i power-played a little just override it lol
basically just wanted her to lead him to a little patch of magicaly moth-pony size flowers xD
@[Snout]
He asks what brought her out at night and she responds with flowers. He tilted his head slightly, was she crazy? Flowers slept at night like most equines did, everyone knows flowers are blooming during the day. She starts to move, asking if he wanted to come along. He did think she was crazy, but she caught his interest, perhaps there was more than he knew. He gave a nod of his head and trailed behind her, allowing her to lead.
They walk an in the distance ahead of them there was a glow, it was an interesting glow, similar to his own body, but it had a blue hue to it. He was interested, but she did not seem shocked by it Nerine was my home she says and he looks at her with more interest. What made you leave? not that he had much room to talk, he never called a kingdom his home. Even though he settled into Tephra, there was no guarantee he would not move, he just did not find enjoyment out of sitting still.
He stands beside her and soon enough finds himself encircled by trees, a view he has never had the chance to settle on. When her gaze raises above them his own follows, it is rare that he finds himself speechless, but this is one of those moments. Above them was green, blue and even gold flowers. He has never seen anything like it, it all made sense though she had features like a moth, she must be attracted to flowers like a regular moth. This is pretty like you what a weird thought that just passed his head. He was attracted to the equines that were different, like him.
He clears his throat, an attempt to pretend he did not just mutter his thought before processing it. Her smile was warm though, it was easy to settle his eyes on her. he begins to float up and he only watches her, it was not hard, she was pretty after all. She pushes her face into the flowers and drinks? eats? what was the proper way to consume nectar? Regardless she eventually settles beside him, her wings tucked back to her side and she begins to clean the nectar off her face with her tongue. Nectar she said and a quick chuckle passes his lips. He moves his maw to nudge a spot on her cheek You missed a spot did he overstep? She seemed to be more on the quiet side, perhaps his touch was unwelcome.
