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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "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


    All things want to open. [any]
    #1

    Her wandering continues. She is not content to remain in the meadow forever, watching deer and horse seek out grass beneath the snow. The horses have better luck, well, some of them. The ones with unusual strength, or those that can control fire and rejuvenation, those ones fare best, of course. The deer do not appear generally magical or different from any other deer, and so they scrape and paw as best they can. Most stay only briefly before returning to the forest, finding refuge in the dappled light where large oak and pine trees hold back the heaviest snows.

    Neverwhere follows them, and one buck casts a disapproving look in her direction, waving his antlers once, twice, before turning away, slipping into the darkness. It is not an empty threat, though foolhardy. He cannot know by looking and smelling that she is largely a normal horse, but the rut makes them stupid, even as it grows late in the season. Heedless, the young mare continues to follow his more fleet, more silent path. The snow crunches and moans underfoot until it gives way to the softer ground of the forest floor. Here pine needles cover pine needles, layers and layers, slowly decomposing into each other and the springy ground that snow barely touches. Here and there, an errant drop of water falls with the briefest splash, a few spattering across her back and haunches, cold pin pricks. One falls directly between her eyes, and then she does stop, head jerking with a snort at the shock of cold.

    Nearby, another crack echoes across the woods, bouncing off each tree trunk until it is impossible to know where it began, then a rushing noise, a WHOOMP, and silence, except for the startled crows cawing raucously. Through the occasional gap where an oak rises leafless into the canopy rather than the evergreen, she can see them, flying off and away to the east.

    The mare snorts, loudly, and drops her head low, rubbing her face against a dark knee, rubbing glare away from wet eyes. Here she sees better The trees have killed the wind, and the sun is unwelcome between boughs and snow, coming down in shafts of weak white-gold to glitter here-and-there where water pools and ices over between root and rock. An ear turns east, where the river’s roar comes in, an insistent whisper the underlies all other sounds. In the canopy above the trees, add to the quiet cacophony. It seems quiet, and yet it is not, noises and talk carries in ways you would not expect, ricocheting off stone and wood so that it is easy to eavesdrop and remain unseen. If, that is, you care to remain unseen. Neverwhere has no such cares.
    #2
    She likes the forest. It's an odd choice for Lilli because it so different than other place she has taken residence in. Murmuring Rivers did have its own patches of wood but they gave way to the riverbeds, multiple streams and rivers that webbed through the landscape. Paraiso had some woods as well but the herd mainly stayed by the Waterfall, by the crystalline lake and the trees that did cover the landscape had been another type entirely than the conifers of Murmuring Rivers. And then there had been Culloden, a moor with rolling fields that came alive with the purple heather and was different than any place she had ever known. Here in Beqanna, she had stayed for a while in the Meadow and enjoyed what it had to offer. There were certainly horses, so many horses that came in a variety of colors and types that often left her head spinning.

    But she liked the different. It intrigued her and made her think of marvelous it must be to be something so exotic and lovely.

    Somehow though she has ended up in the Woods. She likes the way the trees reach skyward in winter and the way that the pale sunlight reaches down to illuminate on the already melting snow. It makes her feel safe somehow (perhaps a rather childish thought) and in her mind, she likes the to think of the trees as her protectors. They allow her chestnut hide to melt away into bark and shadow, protecting her from whatever danger she thinks is looming. Lilli has been coming to this forest long enough that it is starting to feel familiar, something she has been craving. The river that sings nearby is a reminder of the place she was born, the sound of running water suddenly a comfort she needed. She stays in her cluster of trees, staying out of the wind that bites and her head lowers, sleep tempting to lull the chestnut away. Her eyes close, keep closing, almost shut when a sound sends her head skyward.

    Her ears dance, going in all directions until they can settle where the disturbance has come from. The blue eyes are wild for a moment, the white showing as something primitive in her threatens to send her running. But her hooves remain firm into the ground and her head clears, the momentary fear giving way to rational thought. She waits for another sound, another movement, something to tell her what is happening. But the chestnut mare is only greeted by a group of disgruntled crows that fly overhead, cawing their annoyance over whatever it was that has upset them. Lilli watches them fly, her gaze following them as they head towards the east. Her chiseled head looks back towards the direction they came from and she heads that way, her curiosity driving her to know the source of the sound. She emerges from the trees and spies the young mare, a striking silver that stands out against the backdrop of the place where the forest and river meet.

    Lilli's ears prick and the young mare steps forward, calling out to her fellow mare. "Was that you making all that noise?" she calls, practical conversation completely thrown aside.
    but it's all in the past, love
    it's all gone with the wind
    #3

    For a moment, she considers saying yes.

    Yes, because, why not? But in the end, she tells the truth. Not because the lie would be wrong or rude, but because of what would come next. Questions, perhaps; this mare looks about her age and like someone who already has a follow-up question waiting on the tip of her tongue. Frankly, Neverwhere doesn’t have that kind of energy to spare.

    Really, it takes a lot of effort to seem this bored.

    She focuses her gaze on the red mare (well, not focuses really, you couldn’t call it that, but she squints a little harder,) shortened ears flicking back once before training in the other’s direction. The solid chestnut coat gleams a bit brighter than the dark tree trunks that surround it, making it easier to take some measure of her.

    “No,” she says, pausing, her voice coming with the soft rasp of misuse, her tone distracted, “it was not.”

    Neverwhere turns her scarred face back towards the forest depths, as if there are secrets to be gleaned out of that middle distance. The pale tresses of her tail flick lazily, wrapping around her hindlegs.

    “It’s the trees.”

    While below the canopy, all that one sees are a few small flakes, and droplets of snowmelt, above, the trees are gathering heavy loads of thick, wet, snow. Sometimes, during a thaw, the snow simply slides off the branch, sudden, sharp, and crushing. Sometimes it is rot and boring beetles doing their work, eating away at the body of the tree, but you can’t know where all that snow and wood will crash until it does, and by then it's too late, beyond relevance. The forest has grown quiet again, so that even their foggy breath seems to boom in her ears, loud enough to disturb the avalanche of snow resting above their heads like a cat you know is awake.

    "Sometimes, they explode. You might not want to sleep beneath them."

    Neverwhere
    .........
    #4
    She doesn't really know what to expect when she asks the question. Lilli should know better than to follow the source of the sound so boldly, to let that curiosity take a quick grip of her. If anything, her instincts tell her she should be moving away from the sound carries from. But the chestnut mare is inquisitive and in the daylight, Lilli can be brave. It is the night that leaves her fearful and creating shadows from the darkest places of her mind.

    She takes a few more steps forward, nostrils dilating with the scent that Neverwhere carries. It's different  - like so many things about this place. The crimson girl has been exposed a vast variety of equines from birth. Her own lineage descends from air-benders, masters of storms and gales so it wouldn't take much for Lilli to believe that this silver mare could command the forest around her. She sees Neverwhere look at her, those eyes almost straining to make her out and instictively Lilli moves forward, walking away from the wood behind her.  Lilli's own dainty ears prick forward making her the picture of eagerness. 

    The mare replies, her tone settling around Lilliana like a gentle whisper. Neverwhere turns her gaze and Lilli's follows her own, blue and expectant as if the wood might share those secrets with them. The quiet hangs suspended around them as she strains to hear, waits for the audible proof of what Neverwhere has just said.  "Oh," she replies, her mind still thinking of all mystery the forest around them has to offer. "I'll watch out for that then."

    Finding herself tangled in snow and branch wasn't something she particularly cared to experience. 

    She sighs, staring off in the abyss of timber and umbra. Her eyes glance up and down the trees as thought comes and Lilli does as she always done, thinks out loud. "Have you ever met someone who can hear the trees? I've always wondered about all the things they've seen, whats wisdom they might have to impart on us mere mortals." The daydreamer turns her attention from the majestic wood and looks to the silver mare, curious again.  A corner of the mouth quirks, that playful smile teasing to break like a dawn. "I'm Lilliana. What's your name?"

    ooc: i'm so sorry for my odd child.
    but it's all in the past, love
    it's all gone with the wind
    #5

    “They aren’t immortal.”

    She speaks abruptly and without returning Lilliana’s gaze. It is true, you couldn’t call them that. Some live long, many do not, they have their own diseases, their own predators, their own poor luck. Some barely eke out a survival, the pines near the very tops of the mountains are no more than scrubby, scraggly bushes. Best not to judge them all on the merits of redwoods. Not very different from the horses already around them, in that way.

    “I have not met anyone who talks to trees and hasn't been kicked in the head. What can a tree have to say? For one hundred years, I’ve watched 10 million generations of squirrels bury their acorns, have their children, and die?

    They cannot move to improve their situation, they are stuck where their seed landed and rooted for a century, and then they fall and feed the mushrooms. It is a rather pessimistic response to the chestnut’s playful daydream. Neverwhere considers the idea of being able to talk to trees. There are rarely benefits to being able to talk with other horses, she is pretty decided that trees would not be much better.

    "You assume that the trees will want to talk to you. What if all they do is scream?"

    As if to mark her point, the wind above the canopy picks up and whistles through the branches, slipping down to the forest floor with a soft moan. She does look back at Lilliana, then. The chestnut's earnestness is so obvious, and so alien to Neverwhere, who is mostly just sarcastic and disinterested, with no real social grace.

    "I answer to Neverwhere, more often than not."

    Neverwhere
    .........
    #6
    "I know," she says, her voice softer than before and those blue eyes still dreaming.

    She thinks of the pines that had graced her childhood home, tall, statuesque things that she remembers being told had seen generations pass beneath their canopies. She thinks of the dense spruces that had clung together so densely in Culloden, growing to a size that took lifetimes. She thinks of the slender birch, reaching and starkly pale against a backdrop of dark wood. She thinks of the oak and the elm, searching through childhood memories to try and find the moment that she thought these proud beings were timeless. Her blue eyes climb up, up, up - higher and higher. They linger and she still wonders, finding magic in wondering about the moments that must have happened in this very spot.

    Love, birth, death, war and everything in between. Lilli finds wonder in thinking about even the mundane moments - the conversations that led to nowhere and the travelers who spent only moments here. Fleeting moments in time that only the chestnut girl would find beautiful.

    Perhaps the mare's next words are meant to be harsh but the edges of her lips curl as Lilli continues to consider the wood. It is quick but something flashes behind those blue eyes - amusement. "I've never met anyone who can talk to trees. But I heard of someone once who could command them. He used them to hide his kingdom. I always wondered if they was what wanted. I guess it's an odd thought - wondering if a tree is selfless? It just seemed such a shame to me that no one asked them if defending his kingdom was what they wanted." Finally, she turns her gaze from the trees and stares steadily at Neverwhere, finding herself appreciating the mares directness.

    "Your right," she adds though she finds the thoughts of screaming trees haunting. It went back into the realm of impossibilities, a place that Lilli so often likes to dwell. "What if they weep? Mourn their kin that has fallen, a forest that has vanished?" It is so tempting for her to go back, to wonder and ponder what secrets the wood might hide, the moments and memories it must hold. She looks away from Neverwhere one more time and sends a silent thought the the trees that stand before them, that if they weep or scream or laugh, Lilli hears them. She hears them and wishes (whatever they might feel) them peace.

    She returns her attention to Neverwhere. The mare, while somewhat reserved, hasn't openly scowled or hurled angry words at her (yet). Lilli decides it's an improvement and dips her head in greeting, "I'll call you Neverwhere then." The voice is warm, teasing even.  When the crimson head rises, Lilli is still smiling. It is small but it feels familiar on her face, like picking up a a neverending conversation with an old friend or the resuming of a regular ritual or habit. "What brings you to Beqanna?"

    @[neverwhere]
    but it's all in the past, love
    it's all gone with the wind
    #7

    It had not really been her intention to get drawn into a conversation, but it is hard to know what the intent of her wandering had been. Had there been any plan at all? The real answer is no, Neverwhere had had no plans, she was bored one day so she started walking, and she ended up here. As with many newcomers, there is no way to be certain how she came to arrive on the continent with no memory of crossing any water, but it mustn't be forgotten that magic has few rules. Or, perhaps better to say that it makes many allowances for itself. Though she herself has decidedly little experience with magic, it seems fickle and apt to fail or otherwise refuse those who wield it. Was it a living thing, then?

    The idea of comanding trees to guard a kingdom causes her already scarred lip to draw into a snarl, baring yellow teeth in a quick flash. From needlessly berating trees to defending them in a moment's time, she shakes her head, causing the thick hair of her tufted mane to bounce side-to side.

    "That's a fellow who will be surprised when his magic turns and his slaves attack instead."

    Selfless trees. If they're going to entertain the subject, Neverwhere supposes such things must exist - if trees are sentient, they are probably like everyone else, some benevolent, and others not, most somewhere in between. But if they are sentient, they probably won't like being commanded and forced to act against their will, or nature.

    "If you remember who that was, remind me not to visit there."

    It sounds like a joke, and perhaps it is, in her dry way. The dappled mare gives no sign that she isn't completely serious. It is certainly possible, in her travels, that she could unknowingly end up in such a place. And that would be Lilliana's fault, now.

    "Nothing brings me here, I am only wandering. To be honest, it's been rather boring."

    And these words said, Neverwhere pauses, a feeling like nails on a chalkboard screeching in her head. She knows, from somewhere not so very long ago, that it would be appropriate to use the chestnut's name, and to ask her questions back, but the idea of polite conversation is so achingly dull. She stamps twice with a back leg, as though kicking at flies, dispelling her irritation.

    "And what is it that you are doing?"

    Neverwhere
    .........


    @[lilliana]
    #8
    Lilli sees the brief snarl as it changes the features on Neverwhere's pale face. And then the mare shakes her head, chasing away the reaction. The crimson girl tilts her head ever so slightly to the left, her daintily-tipped ears pricked forward in complete attention. And then Lilli's eyes flash with amusement. She chuckles - a bright, bubbling sound that comes from deep within Lilli. She can feel it wrap itself around her ribs, around the darker places where she has been harboring her regrets and her hurts. It reverberates against her troubles and for the first time in weeks, something in the young mare feels.. alive. "I think I'd rather enjoy that," she adds. Her own chiseled head shakes then, the smile still lingering and the laughter still ringing in her ears.

    The image still stays in her mind, the proud King of the Trees, thinking his rule absolute and his power infinite. She had never known him, only knew that he had taken her aunt as his Queen and that Broch, her beloved Brochturach, had a distaste for the stallion. And for a moment, she can pictures the Warlander, his blue eyes resting warmly on hers as he tells her of his reasoning for stealing Elaina from the Woodland kingdom. He had given many reasons - her talents as a healer that his own kingdom had needed, as a way to remind the Tree King that his power wasn't as absolute as he thought it was and all it took was a certain rogue to sneak the golden mare out. And then there had been that moment, that beautiful moment when the normally charismatic had told her (almost shyly, as if he was unsure of her reaction) that he thought that Lilli might have liked to be reunited with her beloved cousin again.

    Broch is gone. Culloden is gone. And yet here Lilli stands, still carrying the distaste for the Tree King because it was still something that she can still cling too. Something she still has left from those days beyond the mountains. 

    Her weight shifts now, moving to her hind end as she cocks a leg. The more time she spends with Neverwhere, the more she becomes at ease with the silver mare. She inclines her head towards the Forest, "If you decide to leave Beqanna, the best advice I can give is to avoid the mountains beyond it. I know his realm lies somewhere out there." Home, the inner voice in her chants. The place you were born, to whom you owe your blood and allegiance too, she thinks. At Neverwhere's next words, the chestnut sighs and finds herself agreeing with the traveler. "I grew up with stories about plagues and wars and magic in Beqanna. I don't know if they have been embellished over time or if the magic has gone. I wasn't sure what to expect but it's... more peaceful than I thought it would be." And to Neverwhere's next question, Lilli shrugs away all the explanations she can give and offers the truth. "I have nowhere else to go," comes the gentle reply. "So I'm here to start over again. And what about you, wanderer? Do you plan on staying or will you continue to pass through?"

    @[neverwhere]
    but it's all in the past, love
    it's all gone with the wind
    #9
    Neverwhere is beginning to settle into the conversation now, Lilliana's persistence overpowering her own childish resistance. She feels that familiar twinge in her belly that hates to do what is normal and expected, that drives her nomadic lifestyle and is the foundation of the walls she builds around herself. Part of that foundation has crumbled, although her cool expression doesn't change.

    And all it took was a relentless, if gentle, round of questioning.

    That's not very impressive, actually, the mare huffs to herself, her pale eyes coming to meet the clearer blue gaze of the chestnut mare and holding steady despite the fact that they miss fine details. She cannot see the tiny changes of countenance, but she can hear the distaste in Lilliana's voice just fine in spite of the shortened nature of her ears, and it is obvious that some history lies beneath the surface. This advice is more than the suggestion of a fellow adventurer, Lilliana knows something about that place.

    "I'm not very fond of swimming, so unless I can find a portal out of Beqanna, as I did into it, I don't expect I will find my way there. Still... I'll keep that in mind."

    For her own part, Neverwhere does frequently find herself in the mountains, so it's not unlikely that she would end up in exactly that place if she were to leave the continent. However, as much as she may be unnerved by the things magic can do, swimming out into open water is a spectacularly bad idea. Perhaps that is just as well, because it would seem that there is magic to be wary of beyond Beqanna's shores. It is hard to imagine how she managed to avoid so much when it seems so prevalent, and yet, there's so little of magic in her own background that it makes her wary. And here, it's used so easily and without a second thought to what toll it must take elsewhere, as if it doesn't upset the balance somewhere out of sight.

    "It would seem that I'll be staying here for a time, regardless of the plagues and wars and magic" she says, her gaze turning quizzical, "however you don't seem the sort to be seeking those things."

    Lilliana's question troubles her, however. What is she planning. Nothing, obviously, so painfully, obviously, nothing. But the time fast approaches that decisions will have to be made. Tumbleweeds only roll because they are dead.

    Neverwhere
    .........
    #10
    Perhaps its came from all the days of being alone. Lilli hadn't been prepared for that.

    The silence for the young mare had been stifling. There had been nothing to distract from her thoughts, nobody to speak her insecurities and aimless thoughts aloud too. The calming presence of her brother was gone, the children with him, the security of her mother and comfort that Elaina brought that she so often wrapped herself in. All Lilli had known about Beyond is that suddenly a place that used to seem so vast and wide, that held so many possibilities, suddenly felt small. She felt the borders of the mountain realm press against her and everywhere that Lilliana looked seemed pointless. She might not be as noble as her mother, she isn't fleeing persecution or an arranged marriage or even death. But Lilli had seen all the empty spaces around her closing in, all those possibilities of a future vanishing and pushing, pushing, pushing against her, forcing her to take the straight path ahead.

    Where would she have gone?

    In a daze of hurt and anger, she had seen her future. A broodmare perhaps. Or worse, the spinster sister of Malachi, always smiling on his children. The realization had dawned on her like a new day that she could spend her entire life waiting, quietly abiding by her family and her role in it, waiting for her own chance at life. Or she could be brave, she could be bold like Elaina and seek a different future for herself. Lilli could find her own courage and see what life might offer her elsewhere, another place where she is not Valerio and Aletta's daughter, not Malachi's sister, not the aunt to a a multitude foals. (Of course, these are foolish thoughts. Lilli will always be someones daughter, sister, aunt, cousin - these things can't be erased.) But somewhere past the mountains, away from the life she had known, there is a chance to start over and the freedom in that has liberated Lilli of some the disapointment she has carried.

    The words she saws are thoughtless. These moments happen from time to time - that her family is so very far away and the journey here is likely to be only one way. Pain twists on Lilli's face, a flash like a flash of lightning. It is swift to come and unforgiving as wraps around Lilli's heart, causing it to knot in her chest. "My apologies," she murmurs, feeling foolish and the tilt fades, something dulling inside the chestnut mare. "Your right. I'm not sure how anybody would leave here," the words come out softer, each one coming heavier than the last, taking a piece of the girls heart as she speaks. Her gaze leaves Neverwhere then and Lilli instead focuses her vision at the base of a tree, studying the groves and patterns in the distant bark as she tries to quell longing that comes rolling in like a tide.

    When she thinks that it won't swallow her,  the finality of saying goodbye to everyone she has ever loved, her home, she looks to the silver mare again. The daydreamer is no longer in the clouds and feels the Earth firmly beneath her, solid and unmoving in its resolution to remind her where she stands. "No," she says, "No magic or plagues for me. And I've never been much of a fighter." Lilli stands alone with her thoughts, letting the sound of water carry on around them. "Does any of it tempt you? Magic? Perhaps a position? Power?" An odd question coming from Lilliana who has never cared about these things before. A bit fanciful with the thoughts of magic perhaps, but she has certainly never wanted it. She can only picture herself as she is: plain and ordinary. But nothing is normal any more and Lilliana only has the unknown now. She might as well explore the possibilities.

    @[neverwhere] so i apparently forgot BQ was an island. also, apologies again for her everywhereness.
    but it's all in the past, love
    it's all gone with the wind




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