[private] we were the first that ever burst into that silent sea

[Oceane]

the fair breeze blew, the white foam flew, the furrow followed free;
we were the first that ever burst into that silent sea.

She returns to the southern shore in contempt of winter's chilly bite. The ocean does not freeze — it is innately tumultuous, relentless and unforgiving as its icy waters lash against the sand and silt shoreline of the foothills. Oceane shivers and pulls her blanket of feathers closer to her winter shag, tucking her pregnant frame in tight against the elements.

She's alone today, and while solitude is something that she appreciates and even enjoys on a fairly regular basis, her pregnancy has kept her from traveling from Loess and the hot itch of stir craziness threatens to take control. With an exasperated sigh directed at the far horizon where ocean meets sky, the opalescent woman pivots on her heel and heads back into the confines of Loess. Her golden eyes search as she travels — usually, for adventure. But today she seeks out company and it would seem that most of her fellow Loessians have taken to the areas nearest the craggy foothills where they will be protected from the season.

Oceane cannot blame them, despite the annoyed tick she feels in her chest.

Finding shelter as she nears the hills, the blue and lavender woman lets another sigh curl from her ajar muzzle. This one is slower, controlled, and it cuts off as her gaze snaps suddenly to the blue and gold frame of a mare who is unfamiliar by sight and smell, though the inklings of the woman's former home still waft like tendrils in the air around her.

"Lepis!" she calls from a few meters away, offering the woman a warm smile as she nestles behind the rock barrier for warmth. "Castile said he hoped you would be joining us," she adds by way of introduction. "My name is Oceane." She does not know much about the blue-accented woman, only what Castile has told her: that she is his dear friend, and that she has come to Loess after abdicating her throne in Taiga — hopefully, Oceane muses, the former Queen will be in the mood for talking with someone new today. Because if she has to wait any longer to socialize with someone else, she just may scream across the ocean.

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
@[Lepis] | "speaks"

[Lepis]

again you’re gone, off on a different path than mine i'm left behind wondering if i should follow With her wings tucked around her, Lepis’ body is spared the worst of the winter wind. It still tugs at the thick blonde hair that is exposed and makes knots of her navy mane and tail, but the meal she is finishing is worth the discomfort. A few prickly pears, fruiting out of season here in the heat of a salt-spring. They are the pegasus’ favorite, and finding them on this morning stroll had been an unexpected stroke of luck. She is just swallowing the last bite when Oceane speaks, but one dark-rimed ear has been fixed on the approaching creature for some time. Lepis is not an easy creature to sneak up on, though the years have softened her instinct to run from any potential threat. These days she is more likely to turn and face them, which is what she does now. It’s a slow turn, unthreatened, and there is a smile on the mare’s face even before she makes eye contact with the opalescent mare. The colors of her coat are bright, even in the red world of Loess, and Lepis takes a moment to admire them as the other finds shelter beside a boulder. Her own single vanity is the elegant length of her mane and tail, but as they are currently tangled and knotted and blowing every which way, she does not even have them. Instead, her most obvious attribute are the scars along her neck and shoulders. Most are still hidden by her wings, and all have healed – the bare and puckered skin which years ago had ached in the cold are now covered in thick winter hair. Blue hair, like her dorsal stripe and the barring on her ankles, but at least the length obscures the obvious shape of bite and hoof marks. That the other mare knows her is not a surprise – Lepis does enjoy her fame – and her casual mention of Castile is explained by the name she gives. A gust of wind gives her the mare’s scent, and Lepis recognizes it. She had wondered about the woman-who-was-not-Sochi that her uncle had been spending time with, and she understands at seeing Oceane. The mare is lovely, though a quick glance at her wide barrel causes a momentary hesitation. That’s surely not Castile’s child? No, Lepis tells herself, she is projecting. Just because her own husband had chosen to dally with a pretty young diplomat rather than his wife does not mean that all men would. Camaraderie, she summons in herself, choosing the easy way just this once. It’s better to feel naturally, she has recently discovered, but sometimes shortcuts are called for. “It’s good to meet you, Oceane.” The dun mare replies, truthful and warmed by her projected emotion. Its one of her favorites, a more complex weaving that had taken her a decade to shape correctly every time. Lepis does not share it with Oceane, but the other mare benefits from it regardless when the dun mare offers: “I only stopped here for a bite to eat, but I’m afraid I’ve eaten all the fruit and have none to share. But if you’re feeling peckish or just want to get out of the wind, I know where a few more might be growing in a canyon. I’d love for you to join me.” Lepis had gestured north with her muzzle when she spoke of the canyon, and while she doesn’t yet turn toward it, she is clearly waiting for Oceane’s answer before she does. LEPIS i’m the one who sees you home-- but now i’m lost in the woods and i don’t know what path you are on

@[Oceane]

[Oceane]

the fair breeze blew, the white foam flew, the furrow followed free;
we were the first that ever burst into that silent sea.

Oceane had learned as a child that there were a few topics of conversation that should not be breached unless done so by the bearer of those things one should not ask about: scars, deformities, the identity of a child's father. Though this knowledge of what one should and shouldn't do has never stopped her and her affinity for curiosity, the opaline woman knows from the moment her warm amber eyes graze the scars painted across Lepis' hide that they are a topic she will not be examining.

Though certainly not because of a lack of desire to do so.

She is distracted soon, though, by the lingering scent of Lepis' lunch. The prickly pears that grow within the confines of Loess are one of Oceane's favored treats, too, and she has begun to crave them more often as she nears the end of her pregnancy.

Another bout of winter wind brushes the scent away and tangles her lavender mane despite the barrier she has tried to conceive from the sandstone boulder. Her amber gaze is obstructed momentarily as strands of forelock assault her view; by the time she has tossed them back over her poll and around her fluttering ears, Lepis' expression has softened somewhat. Though she could be imagining it.

"And you, Lepis," she adds politely before offering an amused grin at the blue and gold pegasi. "Please," she pivots to face the same direction as Lepis, "I've always quite enjoyed fruit, though this pregnancy has me craving them more and more often." It's an off-handed confession, one that she hadn't truly meant to slip — she has always been private in personal matters, even more so with her pregnancies, but she calms herself with the knowledge that Castile considers the woman currently leading her to the northern canyon to be one of his closest friends.

And so she sighs, allowing herself to be comforted by the companionship, and falls into step beside the dun. "How are you enjoying your return to Loess?"

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
@[Lepis]
" "

[Lepis]

again you’re gone, off on a different path than mine i'm left behind wondering if i should follow “I ate so much prickly pear during my pregnancies I am surprised my children didn’t come out with spines,” Lepis confesses to the purple mare beside her, just enough of a smile on her own navy face to show she is teasing. Spined and blue, she’d teased her husband after yet another meal of blueberries and cactus fruit. When Pteron had been born with their blue on his face a few hours later, she could not help but laugh. Lepis blinks, and the memory vanishes into a dozen little wisps of emotion, hurried along by the winter wind. It leaves her with a smile though, one that remains even as she falls quiet and the pair of them make their way through the red landscape. Lepis knows the land well, moving confidently through the rock that rises around them. A few times she has to lead the way (some places are not wide enough for two horses to walk abreast, especially when both are winged and one heavily pregnant). The wind grows louder but more distant, howling along the top of the canyon but never reaching the two of them below. Ahead of them, a large weeping willow hangs over half of a still spring. A few paces from the landward branches of the willow, a patch of the cactus they have come for grows aplenty. The shallow roots are dug into a fallen tree, most of which has fallen into the water, where silvery fish teem about in the protection of its waterlogged branches. “That acacia tree fell down the year I was born,” Lepis tells the other mare. “I don’t remember it happening, but my mother said it was lightning struck. It must have landed in a patch of prickly pear, and they’ve just grown around it.” The biodiversity of her home has always been an endearing quality to the red land; other lands might have more sweet grass or orange groves, but only Loess has all of it. Having already eaten, Lepis hangs back, gesturing that Oceane might go ahead. There are plenty for them both, but this delay also gives the dun mare a chance to answer. The camaraderie that she’d summoned has drifted away, but it had only been meant for a moment, as a way to speed up things that she has hoped might happen. There is something to be said for having a friend that lives nearby, and while the Pampas is closer now than it was to Taiga, Noah still feels very far away. Izora Lethia and Lilliana had both chosen men over their friendship with Lepis, the tobiano mare thinks, and hopes the same will not be true for the budding friendship here. “I missed it here,” she admits. “The place is the same, but most of the people are different.” Different and younger, Lepis thinks, recalling blue Dracarys. The dun mare had met Dracarys’ mother when Valdis was younger than her daughter is now. It was one thing to be a grandmother, but to see the younger generations already carving their way is something else entirely. Something good though, Lepis knows, and thinking of elicits the rest of the answer. “I’m glad to be back, though. That’s for sure.” She smiles, the expression reflective of her words, and adds: “It’s a good place to raise children, too, I can say from experience. At least until they finally get brave enough to leave your side, but being able to fly is helpful for tracking them down.” LEPIS i’m the one who sees you home-- but now i’m lost in the woods and i don’t know what path you are on

@[Oceane]

[Oceane]

the fair breeze blew, the white foam flew, the furrow followed free;
we were the first that ever burst into that silent sea.

Laughter falls suddenly from Oceane's lavender maw at Lepis' unexpected jest as they begin their journey north. "At least the spines could have come in handy," she adds as she thinks with a smile of all the foliage she had eaten as of late that could influence the way her newborn-to-be will look. Aside from the fruits she had been craving perpetually, Oceane had taken to the lilies and cattails by the River, and she can't quite think of anything from either plant that she'd like for her child to possess, except perhaps for the ability to exist comfortably within water.

They fall in step together comfortably, Oceane happily following in those areas where they must walk one-by-one. The sandstone canyon offers a wonderful reprieve from the wind and she shakes the winter chill away from herself as they go. Her bright amber eyes feast on the surrounding area with intrigue; while she had often explored Loess, there were certain areas she'd yet to happen upon that could best be discovered when led by someone who already knew the secret.

Her gaze falls on the sweeping boughs of the willow and then slides to the fallen, slightly melancholic, acacia tree beside it. Oceane smiles warmly as Lepis tells her the story that had been shared with her by her own mother. "It's quite beautiful here," she muses as she inspects the cavernous sanctum, "I hope I won't be imposing if I bring my child here on the days I need to keep a closer eye," she adds, with a hopeful glint in her eye.

She partakes in the prickly pears while listening with curiosity to Lepis' answer her question about returning. I'm glad to be back, she says, and for the first time, Oceane feels a twinge of sadness that she will never be able to feel such a way for Nau-Aib but she pushes it away with the reminder that Loess is her home now and she will always be happy to see it.

"I have a feeling this child will be born with wings," she says with laughter as she thinks on the future, "Both of its parents have them, so I think I can only hope that I learn all of the hiding spots Loess has to offer before my child does." Oceane grins, shaking her head in amusement, though uncertainty rises unbidden in the pit of her stomach. She'd never been given the opportunity to raise a child before; both of her newborn boys had been stripped from her before their first meal, never to be seen again. She can only hope that she will not fail Castile in raising this child.

Her amber eyes flick to Lepis as she swallows her final bite of pear, the desire to ask the blue and gold woman if she would be interested in spending time with the child rising and then receding. Maybe in a few weeks, when they are - hopefully - closer friends.

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
@[Lepis]
" "

[Lepis]

again you’re gone, off on a different path than mine i'm left behind wondering if i should follow Lepis pride her in her home is such that Oceane’s compliment about the beauty of their stone fortress is as meaningful as one paid to the mare herself. She smiles, ever softened by those who love Loess as she does, and nods her agreement. “I don’t see many hooves,” the blue-eyed mare tells Oceane, and while her tone is pensive it is only because she currently looks for any signs she might have missed. No, the ground around the place is disturbed only by their own feet. The brackish water keeps this spring from being a desirable watering hole to most animals, but Lepis sees the line and angles that are the mark of the wallabies. Shyer than their kangaroo cousins, the dun mares knows they are no threat to a mare and her child. “I think you’re likely to have this place to yourself,” Her head bobbing a bit in confirmation of this. “Though would you mind introducing me to your little one when you’re ready to show them to the world? My children are grown and don’t need their mother anymore, and my granddaughter is back in Taiga.” Lepis has not missed the duties that come with being the mother to a nursling, but she sometimes longs for the better parts of it – wide foal eyes, little snuffling breaths, the way they looked at her like she was the very center of their world. No one looks at Lepis like that anymore. But she is not thinking of that today. She is thinking of the winged child that Oceane describes, imagining a little copy of the mare in front of her. Without knowing anything about the father save that he too is a pegasi, Lepis does not know what he might pass to the child. “You’ve questioned their father about any unexpected gifts in the family?” She enquires, recalling the sudden invisibility of her minutes-old son and the day her daughter first planted a false vision in front of her eyes. “I should have done a better job, but by our last girl I thought I knew what to expect. Then she came out white and scaley instead!” The memory of Celina’s birth is a happy one, but Lepis doesn’t want to chatter Oceane’s ear off. It has just been so long since she had someone to talk to, someone with who she feels might someday be a friend. In an effort to bring the topic back to something they both know as well as to share the amusing thought she’d had, Lepis adds: “Sochi is wonderful, but I don’t envy her those children she’s born. I suppose she knew what she was signing up for when she became Consort, but still can you imagine? Dragons?” Lepis had seen a few scorch marks on the trees before she left Taiga – she can’t imagine what it might be like to raise a child that could breathe fire if it didn’t like its bedtime or had no interest in reciting the list of Taiga’s leaders. Not something she envies at all. LEPIS i’m the one who sees you home-- but now i’m lost in the woods and i don’t know what path you are on

@[Oceane]

[Oceane]

O C E A N E

She decides then, as Lepis assesses the quiet sanctum around them, that this will be where she births her child. Surrounded by red sandstone, beside the beautiful and brackish waters, kept company by the fallen acacia and the mighty willow. Just her and her child and the wilderness.

As a point of fact, the thought of Castile at her side during the birth of their child draws cold panic into her stomach. Due to no fault of the Loessian King's, she cannot bear the idea of someone else waiting closely by to sweep up the frail, delicate, fragile, new body of her child and carry it away. She cannot hover too close to similarities that will remind her of Nau-Aib. Not yet.

Lepis and her kind smile pull Oceane away from the antagonism in her mind and back to their budding friendship ─ she is surprised, but pleasantly, when the blue and gold woman asks after her child. "I would love to," she responds without hesitation, the words accented by the excited smile at her lavender lips, "In fact, I might have begged you if you hadn't offered." Oceane giggles good-naturedly as she shifts her weight to direct her body toward their conversation now that her craving for prickly pear has been sated.

"I suspect I will have quite a bit of time on my own, considering the amount of work" ─ Castile ─ "the father dedicates himself to, and, to be honest, I'm a bit nervous of how well I will do ─"

She cuts herself off, smiles apologetically at Lepis. Fearing that she will make herself out to be a first-time mother, though that would be much less painful than the truth, Oceane lets the rest of her statement fade into silence before her painted companion picks up the conversation and moves it onto what should be more comfortable ground, but after a few minutes, definitely isn't. "I... hadn't even considered it," she says with another bout of laughter. Her molten amber eyes glimmer with amusement as she listens to Lepis' anecdote before shaking her head.

Had she felt more comfortable with her pregnancy, for more reasons than one, perhaps she would have shared Castile's involvement with Lepis. It appears not to matter, though ─ because for all her concern over Castile's title and her own ability to care for a child, it can't and doesn't stop her new companion from mentioning a... Consort?

And... dragons?

Taking far more than what is considered an appropriate amount of time to respond to Lepis, Oceane searches the pegasi's blue-grey eyes as she ransacks her memory for any mention of a woman named Sochi. A Consort named Sochi. With a family.

Castile's family.

She lets a quiet, shaky breath fall from her lips as she finally blinks away her wild-eyed expression. "D-dragons?" she asks, though now she supposes she already knows her King's secret ─ the one he had kept tucked close to his breast in an attempt to keep her from seeing him the way everyone else does ─ Oceane focuses her incredulity on it with the hopes that Lepis had not seen her falter at the name of a Consort she hadn't known to exist, due both to her own foolishness and willful blindness.


@[Lepis]
" "

n | t

[Lepis]

again you’re gone, off on a different path than mine i'm left behind wondering if i should follow Lepis’ navy ears flick forward, and she returns the smile from the other mare. She has missed being around children these last few years. Lepis had been excited about the arrival of Adarra, but she’d barely had time to meet the girl before she had left for Loess. In the nine months since, Lepis has not left the borders of the kingdom, though she soon will. The dun mare tells herself she is relearning the role of a Cleric, and with her mind on kingdom responsibilities, her interest is piqued by the Oceane’s mention of the father and his responsibilities. The purple mare does not call him by name. That alone is not suspicious; Oceane knows that Lepis won’t know everyone in Beqanna by name.  Her head tilts to the side for just a moment as she meets Oceane’s gaze, considering. The look fades quickly, but her focus does not, and so when the pregnant mare reacts to the jest that Lepis shares with something other than amusement, Lepis catches it. She does not jump to conclusions, knowing that the Loessian Tigress is a hunter in her own right, but her eyes almost dart over to the mare’s wing-covered sides. Castile surely isn’t carrying on with his kingdom’s newest and prettiest diplomat directly under his wife’s nose. Lepis is just projecting her own experiences. That’s what it is. “You know…big, scaley, leave those terrible furrows in the ground when they land and take-off? Lepis responds to Oceane’s question of dragons as though nothing else has passed between them. Her tone is teasing but her eyes are gentle. “They came here after they lost Nerine,” the dun mare adds, knowing that Oceane is still fairly new to Beqanna and has clearly not been told of the Dragons and their place in Loess. “Empress Nayl and her dragon-husband Lior live in the mountains.” She gestures toward the distant ridges with her muzzle. “Their children are all dragon-kind, I think. And Castile’s children are too. That I’ve seen anyway.” Lepis hasn’t met them all, to be fair, but her daughter-law-is certainly draconic. “At least you know you won’t have to deal with fire-breathing and sharp teeth biting on everything.” She finishes, hoping that a positive note will turn around this odd silence from her newest potential friend. LEPIS i’m the one who sees you home-- but now i’m lost in the woods and i don’t know what path you are on

@[Oceane]

[Oceane]

O C E A N E

Time passes slowly ─ so slowly, almost painfully ─ in the moments following Lepis' comment about Sochi. If she had not been so fixated on her perlino dun counterpart, her gilded eyes unwavering in their attempt to hold onto something real, she would have missed the slight tilt of Lepis' head. But she doesn't. And in that moment she knows that the other pegasi knows ─ or, at least, suspects. And now she must do something about it.

Oceane's tongue feels thick and abnormal in her mouth as the Loessian Cleric makes an indomitable effort to infuse their conversation with continued playfulness, but she forces a tentative smile anyway. "Dragons were used as part of the King's Guard in my homeland," Oceane is able to find her voice eventually, her eyes kind but worried as they rest on the blue-grey of Lepis', "But, ah, I hadn't realized that Castile could ─" Her ears flick in their tousled lavender bed and she laughs quietly, the sound a combination of amusement and foolish shame.

Now that she knows about Sochi's existence, she dare not tell Lepis about the way Castile had playfully and coyly toyed with her curiosity, refusing to tell her his secret to keep her interest in his hot and thick. So while it pains her intellect, Oceane feigns ignorance and falls into silence once more, listening to the blue-pointed woman's account of Nerine and Beqanna's dragon family and moving her amber eyes to gaze upon the distant mountain when it's mentioned.

At least you know you won’t have to deal with fire-breathing and sharp teeth biting on everything, Lepis ends with amusement in her voice and in her eyes, and Oceane can't help but to snort at the painful hilarity of the statement. "I might," she whispers, the confession painful as it is ripped unwillingly from her lips.

Her eyes meet her new companion's and they are filled with worry ─ worry that she has ruined this new potential friendship, that she has ruined a family that existed long before she'd found Beqanna, that she has made Castile's life exponentially more difficult with the child that grows within her...

That her child will now live the same life that she had in Nau-Aib.

"Lepis..." she says shakily, "What does Sochi look like?" She would find the woman and... and what? Oceane is unsure what she would even do, what she could even say to Sochi ─ but she knows she needs to find her anyway.


@[Lepis]
" "

n | t

[Lepis]

again you’re gone, off on a different path than mine i'm left behind wondering if i should follow Dragons in the Kings Guard, Oceane says, and Lepis briefly wonders how powerful a king must be to have dragons content to be his guard. The dun mare’s experience with dragons is not especially expansive, but they seem to be a proud and often-grating lot, as interested in power and their next meal as they are in friendship. Most are loyal to a fault though, or perhaps that is simply to their family, and Lepis is fortunate to be considered such. She does wonder that Castile hadn’t shared that part of his nature with the opalescent mare. He has never made a secret of it in the past, Lepis thinks, why not reveal it to a mare that clearly spends much time in his company? That question and a dozen others dash through the dun mare’s mind as Oceane whispers a confession. It is Lepis’ time to be quiet now. Her blue-grey eyes search for something beneath a puzzled brow, but in the end she only shakes her head with a sigh. What is that, her mother had said? History is bound to repeat itself. Lepis hadn’t expected history to happen again so quickly, nor so close to her. Why couldn’t this have happened to a family in Tephra or the Icicle Island? Why did it have to be someone she knows? Oceane asks about Sochi, about what she looks like, and a final piece of the tale clicks into place. Perhaps she only wants to believe this newest friend, but she does not think herself already biased. There is nothing about the purple mare that suggests she’d known of the existence of a consort before this meeting. Oceane had not joined the family and then destroyed it – she hadn’t known there was anything to break at all. Not quite a historical repetition, Lepis thinks. The only one guilty of betrayal here is the dragon they’d discussed. Lepis takes a breath to replace the sigh she’d exhaled, and while she doesn’t manage to form a smile, her voice is calm when she replies. “She is a black mare with an unmistakable blue blaze. She is often a tigress.” And as dangerous as a dragon, Lepis does not add, though she suspects Oceane will understand. The dun mare’s golden face doesn’t show emotion, even when she suggests that the other mare should seek out Sochi. “This is something you should address before your child is born, then.” That time is growing short, they both know. There is also likely no way to repair what’s been broken, and Lepis knows that too well. “I have been in Sochi’s shoes.” Lepis admits, though she does not share the worst of it, that the admission of a lack of love hurt far worse than anything her former husband might have physically done. “It is not something I would wish on anyone.” “But if you did not know…” Here she pauses, again searching Oceane’s face, for some confirmation that this is true. “Then blame for this is not on your shoulders.” Lepis nods to herself, reminded once more of the folly of men. This is what her mother has always told her – they are weak and unfaithful and a wife’s duty is to bear it with a smile. But Lepis is not the smiling type, and she doubts that the Loessian Consort is either. LEPIS i’m the one who sees you home-- but now i’m lost in the woods and i don’t know what path you are on

@[Oceane]