04-17-2021, 09:48 PM
a little white light in a
sea gone black
sea gone black
≋
Oceane relaxes the grip she holds on her controlled façade, letting slip the politely tight-lipped smiles to make room for amused smirks and small bouts of warm laughter with each jest the scarred stranger provides. Awash in the sunshine she had sorely missed, it's easy to allow herself a moment of relaxed repose in the presence of her newest acquaintance. The year had been a long and eventful one: the Alliance, the theft of Tarian and the beginning of the Long Night, her own conflict with Breach and the Eastern kingdom, the fear of an impending war.
She had refused to leave the foothills and canyons for fear of retaliation from Hyaline or Pangea, and so the familiar confines of Loess, blanketed in darkness, were all the opaline mare had seen for the entirety of the Long Night.
“I could use all the help I can get,” she feeds off his energy, thankful for the opportunity to feel normal for a time, “If you'd be so kind to share.” With this stranger, there is no need to discuss the politics between her kingdom and the East, nor does she need to answer questions regarding the disappearances of Soran and Altum. She doesn't need to worry about standard etiquette, about Castile or Lepis, about the history she hides that precedes Beqanna.
The red-breasted robin she had communicated with upon her arrival to the Meadow flits nearby, breaking Oceane from the thankful state she has found herself in and distracting her from the chestnut stallion's prolonged silence. The bird alights itself briefly upon her withers and her ears flick backwards to listen to the miniscule creature reiterate what she had already assumed - the Meadow is devoid of others today. Safe, at least, for now.
“Yes,” she confirms when the stallion draws her back to him. The robin departs, its task complete, “I've lived there for almost a decade now.” There's a change in his voice, a tightness that was not there before, that prompts Oceane to tilt her head ever so slightly to the side. As she lingers on the cusp of meddlesome and respectful once again, he finally gifts her his name. “Ledger,” she repeats with warmth, though there is still sharp intrigue in her amber eyes as he motions to the Meadow around them.
“You're not new to Beqanna, are you?” she finally puts a finger on what had been feeling odd - he hadn't asked about Loess nor what it was like, had even repeated the name in a way that felt familiar. Perhaps he hadn't ever been there, but he had heard of it.
And then Ledger dismisses her. The about-face of their conversation catches Oceane on her heels, tugging her coy smile away and replacing it with a furrowed brow and pursed lavender lips. “Of course,” she responds a bit tersely, “I'm sorry to have distracted you from-” a pause, her amber eyes sweeping the Meadow swiftly and dramatically before returning to the one-eyed Ledger, “-everything that's going on here.”
But she lingers before leaving, the silence stretching between them for a few moments before the Loessian Queen decides she deserves, at the very least, the inkling of a explanation. “If you'll humor me, though... why, exactly, would it not be a good idea for you to visit?”
She had refused to leave the foothills and canyons for fear of retaliation from Hyaline or Pangea, and so the familiar confines of Loess, blanketed in darkness, were all the opaline mare had seen for the entirety of the Long Night.
“I could use all the help I can get,” she feeds off his energy, thankful for the opportunity to feel normal for a time, “If you'd be so kind to share.” With this stranger, there is no need to discuss the politics between her kingdom and the East, nor does she need to answer questions regarding the disappearances of Soran and Altum. She doesn't need to worry about standard etiquette, about Castile or Lepis, about the history she hides that precedes Beqanna.
The red-breasted robin she had communicated with upon her arrival to the Meadow flits nearby, breaking Oceane from the thankful state she has found herself in and distracting her from the chestnut stallion's prolonged silence. The bird alights itself briefly upon her withers and her ears flick backwards to listen to the miniscule creature reiterate what she had already assumed - the Meadow is devoid of others today. Safe, at least, for now.
“Yes,” she confirms when the stallion draws her back to him. The robin departs, its task complete, “I've lived there for almost a decade now.” There's a change in his voice, a tightness that was not there before, that prompts Oceane to tilt her head ever so slightly to the side. As she lingers on the cusp of meddlesome and respectful once again, he finally gifts her his name. “Ledger,” she repeats with warmth, though there is still sharp intrigue in her amber eyes as he motions to the Meadow around them.
“You're not new to Beqanna, are you?” she finally puts a finger on what had been feeling odd - he hadn't asked about Loess nor what it was like, had even repeated the name in a way that felt familiar. Perhaps he hadn't ever been there, but he had heard of it.
And then Ledger dismisses her. The about-face of their conversation catches Oceane on her heels, tugging her coy smile away and replacing it with a furrowed brow and pursed lavender lips. “Of course,” she responds a bit tersely, “I'm sorry to have distracted you from-” a pause, her amber eyes sweeping the Meadow swiftly and dramatically before returning to the one-eyed Ledger, “-everything that's going on here.”
But she lingers before leaving, the silence stretching between them for a few moments before the Loessian Queen decides she deserves, at the very least, the inkling of a explanation. “If you'll humor me, though... why, exactly, would it not be a good idea for you to visit?”
—
@[Ledger]
“”
@[Ledger]
“”
i must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
and all i ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by
and all i ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by