And how many, many differences there were to discover. Yan thought of that as he peered out across the tumbling water, of all that he’d seen and the greater majority of places that he hadn’t, and for a moment he envied Isra her ability to take flight and be off into the future without regret. To shed the current moment for a new one would be… bliss, he thought. To be more like Nashua, his twin; wild and free, alighting on the wind and giving it the freedom to take him anywhere, anytime.
But the reality of his life is a sobering and calming sort of reminder.
He has Amarine and Borderline, and the tangled future of their lives that’ll keep him tethered to Taiga and her maze of towering redwoods. He doesn’t regret these facts: on the contrary, he leans into them like old friends. There’s something to be said about purpose and one’s place in the world, even if Yanhua couldn’t find the right words right this second.
He looked back at Isra. The forest? Yan could see the allure. She wasn’t the first to claim the stretch of woodland as her home and hearth, and he doubts she’ll be the last. Something about the property of common land is enticing to those who seek reclusivity without the demands of being indentured to any one leader. He’s well-aware that hundreds of horses have called the place their own, or marked out their little nooks there for safekeeping. It’s the following comment that surprises him most - Isra’s casual admission about living outside the realm of Beqanna. That was unusual to him, though he’d heard tell of it happening to a rare few.
Yanhua wondered what was out there, beyond the sea that enclosed their grand island-continent. He readied himself with questions to ask her, but Isra was quicker. No matter; Yanhua liked indulging her for the sake of keeping the mystery of the outside world alive in his thoughts. Better to have fantastic beasts running wild through his daydreams than to have them dispelled with boring truths.
“Certainly I will.” He laughed momentarily, delighted. Isra had pegged his interests early-on into the conversation. “Get comfortable,” He warned her with a shrewd grin, “this could go on for a minute.”
Where to begin? “Forget the politics - I usually do. I’m from Taiga, the place where the giant redwoods grow. We’re not a very… active sort of herd when it comes to outside drama with other Kingdoms.” His smile widened, sure that he was disappointing her on that end but Isra would have to settle for less. Nothing of real consequence (aside from Nerine’s burning) had happened recently. “That doesn’t mean we aren’t a target. Our motherland Nerine was recently assaulted. There was a band from Pangea - the dryland deserts - that raided Loess with fire and brought the flame north with them.” He explained, realizing suddenly that perhaps these names - Loess, Pangea, Nerine - might be foreign to her.
Briefly, he did his best to explain each to Isra and then continued.
“But Taiga, ah Taiga… what could I possibly say to surmise her glory? The mystic pull of the constant fog, the smell of pine and dewy thicket, her ghosts and reveries?” Yanhua sighed, tilting his head toward the direction of home and her myriad wonders. Isra could not rip the loving grin off his face if she tried, now. “I always feel an acute loss when I’m away from her for too long. And a complete handicap at explaining in words what could only be experienced in the flesh.” He waxed poetic. This was why he never took to the Field to recruit - he’d bore someone to death before convincing them to come home with him.
“You should come -” He tried anyway, glancing back to the pleasing mare and her conflicting stare, half one color and the other. “- visit and see for yourself. I make a much better guide than a storyteller.” He promised her with a throaty, robust chuckle.
But the reality of his life is a sobering and calming sort of reminder.
He has Amarine and Borderline, and the tangled future of their lives that’ll keep him tethered to Taiga and her maze of towering redwoods. He doesn’t regret these facts: on the contrary, he leans into them like old friends. There’s something to be said about purpose and one’s place in the world, even if Yanhua couldn’t find the right words right this second.
He looked back at Isra. The forest? Yan could see the allure. She wasn’t the first to claim the stretch of woodland as her home and hearth, and he doubts she’ll be the last. Something about the property of common land is enticing to those who seek reclusivity without the demands of being indentured to any one leader. He’s well-aware that hundreds of horses have called the place their own, or marked out their little nooks there for safekeeping. It’s the following comment that surprises him most - Isra’s casual admission about living outside the realm of Beqanna. That was unusual to him, though he’d heard tell of it happening to a rare few.
Yanhua wondered what was out there, beyond the sea that enclosed their grand island-continent. He readied himself with questions to ask her, but Isra was quicker. No matter; Yanhua liked indulging her for the sake of keeping the mystery of the outside world alive in his thoughts. Better to have fantastic beasts running wild through his daydreams than to have them dispelled with boring truths.
“Certainly I will.” He laughed momentarily, delighted. Isra had pegged his interests early-on into the conversation. “Get comfortable,” He warned her with a shrewd grin, “this could go on for a minute.”
Where to begin? “Forget the politics - I usually do. I’m from Taiga, the place where the giant redwoods grow. We’re not a very… active sort of herd when it comes to outside drama with other Kingdoms.” His smile widened, sure that he was disappointing her on that end but Isra would have to settle for less. Nothing of real consequence (aside from Nerine’s burning) had happened recently. “That doesn’t mean we aren’t a target. Our motherland Nerine was recently assaulted. There was a band from Pangea - the dryland deserts - that raided Loess with fire and brought the flame north with them.” He explained, realizing suddenly that perhaps these names - Loess, Pangea, Nerine - might be foreign to her.
Briefly, he did his best to explain each to Isra and then continued.
“But Taiga, ah Taiga… what could I possibly say to surmise her glory? The mystic pull of the constant fog, the smell of pine and dewy thicket, her ghosts and reveries?” Yanhua sighed, tilting his head toward the direction of home and her myriad wonders. Isra could not rip the loving grin off his face if she tried, now. “I always feel an acute loss when I’m away from her for too long. And a complete handicap at explaining in words what could only be experienced in the flesh.” He waxed poetic. This was why he never took to the Field to recruit - he’d bore someone to death before convincing them to come home with him.
“You should come -” He tried anyway, glancing back to the pleasing mare and her conflicting stare, half one color and the other. “- visit and see for yourself. I make a much better guide than a storyteller.” He promised her with a throaty, robust chuckle.
@[isra]