"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
Once it had been made clear that she would not be left behind in the den, the fluffy filly had marched without complaint after the rugged mare who'd found her. It was a long walk, through the types of land she'd never imagined. She wasn't offered assistance, or many rests, and she figured she wouldn't get them if she asked. Or worse, she'd simply be left behind. So she bit her lip when the going for rough, and marched on.
She had to take twice as many steps to cover the same amount of ground as the taller mare, which left very little room for anything else but thinking about putting one dainty hoof in front of the other, over an over. Over and over until the horizon broke into a strange other landscape. A tiny gasp puffed from her lips to fog on the crisp morning air, her legs coming to a sudden halt as the world resolved around her. It was beautiful.
Ancient monuments of stone and skree spread before them, the towers of crackling earth jaw dropping in their majesty. And the wind! It lifted her tufted mane and tail with its persistent fingers as she looked up at her new guardian in awe.
03-27-2020, 07:54 PM (This post was last modified: 03-27-2020, 07:56 PM by Nashua.)
He is supposed to be napping.
His copper mother had turned her back for a moment - talking and laughing softly with his aunt Brazen - and Nashua had peeked over a gray Nerinian boulder to determine that. His mother wasn't looking and when she had murmured to him and his twin to rest, his wings hadn't wanted to settle against his sides. His legs wouldn't lay still. Nashua had even laid his head down and tried to close his green eyes but the day was too bright.
Why should he sleep when the world was so obviously awake?
(Nash had tried to wake his twin but his flaxen brother remained out of reach. Each time he tried to brush him, the actual substance of Yanhua evaded him.)
The little boy huffs his disapproval and looks down the hill, glancing back one last time to make sure his mother doesn't see him moving between the boulders and highland grass. She and his aunt are talking of something that he can't hear and his youthful ears fixate instead on a sound coming from the other side of one of the Northern monoliths. The winged colt glances around the stone quickly - just long enough to spy a girl about his age who shimmers intriguingly - and Nash jumps from behind the rock. His fledgling wings flare to instigate her in play like he has seen the herons do - only to realize he is staring up at the reserved face of his aunt Neverwhere.
His green eyes round and he swallows, tucking his auburn wings back. "Uh," he says, "I thought you were a rock."
She does not speak much on the trek north, it is long for a foal so young, and her pace is slower than usual, though it still pushes the filly beyond, perhaps, what she might prefer. This is not the leisurely tour that the mare took once with Heartfire, visiting notable sights and drinking in all that was new, but there will be so much time for the child to see those things, and there will be less time, once they leave the care of the Fairies in the Den, to find her a suitable place to rest and eat, so she bids the buzzing bits of light farewell with pinned ears and a shake of her head and presses on steadily. When at last they cross into that place where the mighty trees of Taiga fall away and the Nerinian cliffs loom above like sea-hardened giants, she allows the girl her moment of pause, of awe, but she is searching the cliffs for danger, as she searched the redwoods, as she searched the foothills, and as she searched autumnal forest, wary and scowling into sun and shadow alike. Her bear cub ears lean forward, trembling as they strain to pick up every bit of sound that whips around the odd little pair.
She is, therefore, unsurprised when Lilli's colt leaps out at them. Her ears flatten, lost in the sea of her mane, and her scarred, pink face becomes a snarl, snaking out to grab one flared wing between yellowed teeth, pressing into flesh hard enough to hold him firmly in place, but not to harm him unless he struggles. When he falls still again, Neverwhere releases the wing, drawing her head high with a disapproving glare as he pulls both wings close to his small body.
"I am not." She says, her voice a snarl, but the anger fades quickly, as if blown away by the wild wind. She does not hear Lilliana nearby, nor smell her, but so many things can hide between the rush of air and the roar of the sea. Her eye softens (her heart is still a growl, but that is a different matter entirely and no fault of Nashua's,) "Where is your mother?"
Her nose falls from it's furious height to shove against the dark filly's rump, pushing her - almost gently - closer to the colt.
"Go play, Child. I will see to finding you something to eat."
Amarine squeaked, loudly, when the small figure of another foal came barreling out of nowhere towards them, only to have a wing caught by the irritable looking mare who'd brought her here. Her instinct was to shuffle and hide behind the sturdy woman, but that chance was not offered before she found herself being pushed forward. More into the open. Exactly where she didn't want to be.
"Nonononono," she mumbled, pushing back toward the brown mare's side. She'd only just been found! She didn't want to be abandoned again, not so soon! The black velvet surface of her face pressed behind the mare's foreleg, hiding from the jumpy boy's line of sight. She didn't want to play. She was tired and hungry and making friends was exactly the last thing on her list of things she wanted to do right now. One tiny hoof came down against the stony ground with a surprisingly sharp tap.
She snuck a glance back to the little winged boy, absolutely certain that if she got left here, she wouldn't be found again. It was an instinctive fear, one she didn't know how to abate. Only that it was all she knew so far, and that she trusted the big, warm mare beside her far more than she trusted any little foal who wanted to pounce on her.
His ears flick back at the swift (and unjustified) action of the dappled mare as her yellow teeth plant themselves firmly against his downy feathers. Nashua doesn't struggle. He isn't given a chance to even object at this treatment before he hears a voice coming from behind him.
"A little gamey for your taste, I think," says the lyrical voice at his back. Mama, the little boy realizes. When he turns his hopeful face up to his mother, her blue eyes glance down with an expression that says he is very much in trouble.
Yan had probably told her where he had gone.
When Neverwhere releases him, Nashua turns and slides underneath the barrel of his mother. Neverwhere and her harsh teeth won't be able to reach him there. The copper colt ducks his head and presses his wings firmly against his sides as he slips beneath her. She smells of fresh milk and his stomach protests its hunger. He reaches to satisfy it before his curiosity distracts him. The filly cries a word - his mothers' favorite - and Nashua peeks his crimson head around her other side. He glances from the black and teal girl back to the capricious form of the Nerinian queen. Was that... was that what she was called?
His youthful ears perk up and the winged boy takes an inquisitive step away from his mother as he looks back up at the silver mare. "Is that her name?"
and for every king that died they would crown another
"I'm willing to try anything once, you know how I love new experiences."
Neverwhere says it without looking up. Instead, cloudy eyes following the colt as he runs to the relative safety of his mother's side, and when he peeks back at her, she bares her teeth at him wolfishly, snapping them shut with a bright snik! Her teasing, however, is cut short in the face of the filly's loud resistance to leaving her side and the ragged remnants of her anger melt away to puzzlement. The Child presses into her side and the hard pressure of her insistence makes the dappled mare freeze and turn away from Lilli and Nashua, makes her draw her neck up high when she turns to peer at ther girl, cowering half underneath her.
"Case in point," she says, under her breath, carefully shifting her weight to extricate the girl from her ribcage so that Lilliana can see her more clearly, and then she huffs loudly, the flash of confusion that swept across her face turning back to a more familiar, more usual, wave of vague irritation.
"Her name is not No," the coolness has returned to her voice again while she grasps blindly through her brain for something suitable and comes up empty-handed as if she hadn't had plenty of time to come up with something on the long, slow, walk back to Nerine. The truth is, she had barely thought on it, never fully expecting the frail thing to make the long journey, and yet, here they were, the cool spring winds buffeting the downy black coat and those strange eyes that make her vision swim thankfully focused elsewhere. Neverwhere leans forward so that one foreleg fits into the hollow of the girl's flank before she can have another meltdown.
"I found it-- her. I found her near the Meadow, alone, hiding behind a rock," and I was going to kill her, she tactfully omits, her eyes at last flicking up to meet the summer-sky blue of Lilliana's gaze, "She doesn't have a name, thought I might call her Log."
the secret of walking on water is knowing where the rocks lie
The commotion is easy to pick up on. Yanhua seemed to be dozing still, or again, when the spotted mare passed him, having left her own two shenanigans doing the same thing not too far off. If she didn’t know any better, she would assume the girls were still asleep, but just like she isn’t surprised to hear Nashua’s voice among the three - four- that cause the little commotion, it is only a matter of time before one or both of her own twins will join in as well.
Yet it’s not Neverwhere and Nashua disagreeing that attracts the new mother’s attention - it’s the tinier-sounding voice repeating ‘no’ over and over again.
The rose and white mare blinks at the scene - Neverwhere entertaining two children is a sight she deems rarer than a red moon. That is, if entertaining is even the word appropriately describing this gathering; the dappled mare looks like she wants to drop both foals in a pit and shove a pile of stones on them to make sure they never resurface to bother her.
Eurwen can’t help but smile a little. ”I don’t think Log is a very appropriate name. People would be wondering if you were warning them of one falling, most of the time.”
She joins the other two mares with an ease that’s clearly come from experience, and raises a brow at the boy underneath his mother, but decides not to antagonize him further. Instead, she looks at what - who - Neverwhere is hiding, and her more stern face for Nashua breaks into the smile she often uses on Brienna (sorry, Fechín, but you should make less of a trouble). ”Hey there. Aren’t you a little gem?” Eurwen greets the girl more softly, before turning on her adoptive mother again. ”I’m sure we can feed her between us, if you want.” She doesn’t have to ask Lilliana - she is pretty sure the chestnut will agree. Feeding three babies on her own would be quite a strain, as both already have twins of their own, but between the two of them, they might just have enough to spare.
Besides, she can’t actually let Never go through with calling her a Log all the time, can she?
04-20-2020, 02:10 PM (This post was last modified: 04-20-2020, 02:10 PM by Amarine.)
It seemed that things moved very quickly once they arrived. One moment, the little filly was standing in awe of the place she hoped would be her new home. The next, it seemed every horse within a mile of them had shown up, each with their own questions and feelings.
Curiosity, that sensation had been a big one today, and she realized she was the reason for it. Amusement? She wasn't so sure about that one, but it seemed not too far from the mood circulating between the three grown up mares. From the safety of the brown lady's side, the jewel-eyed girl dared to glance out at the ones rolling their feelings so loosely about.
The scent of milk, clean and comforting, reached her delicate nose. A clenching rumble of hunger answered back. The boy who had pounced on them was latched eagerly to the copper mare's teat, and she found herself swallowing in reflexive mimic of his gulping. Her eyes blinked and tore away only when the paler lady addressed her. An uncertain smile fluttered on her lips before she looked back to see if the brown mare, her lady, was still right where she'd been. Yes? Good.
What they were talking about floated above her head her attention once more fixated by thoughts of food. This spotted lady smelled like it too, and her feet brought her hesitantly closer to the soft eyed woman. Every pace was interrupted by a glance backward, reassurance that her bald faced lady wasn't going anywhere. Even as she nudged hopefully towards what instinct told her was there, her strangely luminous eyes never left the dark figure at the edge of her vision.
04-22-2020, 05:50 PM (This post was last modified: 04-22-2020, 05:52 PM by lilliana.)
Lilliana raises her brow, ready to say something in response to Neverwhere’s comment that she is always game to try new things. Good thing Nerine was surrounded by water, she thinks, because there would be no leading Neverwhere anywhere that she doesn’t want to go to. Nashua is underneath her, not quite afraid but certainly knows that he’s safest beneath her rounded stomach.
She's actually is tempted to step away, to let Neverwhere show him another flash of teeth if it means he would listen.
The little girl presses into her dappled friend and feeling a rush of maternal love, from having Nashua and Yanhua nearby, the Taigan mare smiles before looking impishly up to the Khaleesi. The silver mare is usually composed, very rarely off her guard and yet this little girl writes confusion very clearly on Neverwhere’s bald face.
Motherhood suits you, the chestnut mare thinks plainly across from her, knowing full well that Heartfire’s Regent had a talent for begrudgingly adopting lost things. Lilliana knows this better than most - she is one of them.
At Nashua’s comment, her ears flick gently back and Lilliana looks down. "Nashua,” she more implores than commands. The flaxen colt drops his head in return, milk staining his pink mouth. "Sorry Mama,” and then places himself back underneath her, still eyeing his wolfish aunt uncertainly. His mother never used her teeth.
When the Nerinian mare addresses the child as an It, her blue eyes flash. Neverwhere corrects the problem before Lilliana even addresses it.
Glancing back down at the little girl, she stiffens. Sharply, she looks up. "Log?” she asks flatly, horrified. For the love of the Gods - the chestnut mare raises her head, wanting to say something but the little girl is pressing herself into Neverwhere, and Lilliana can’t bring herself to say anything. What if the child heard the name, associated herself with it? Of all the things, she thinks while looking darkly at Neverwhere.
It’s Eurwen who comes shining in with a ready smile.
Whatever storm was brewing on Lilliana’s face is lessened when the child moves to Eurwen, obviously hungry. She felt the warm brush of Nashua’s hide peeking from underneath her again as she looked behind her to make sure that Yanhua was still resting in the long grass she had left him in.
Catching a familiar sheen of copper (hers), she turns her attention back on the fellow Diplomat. She’s right - she doesn’t have to ask Lilliana. She will certainly help rear the child if it’s needed. Between the two of them, the few other mares in Nerine who have delivered foals this Spring, one more mouth should be no problem. The chestnut nods, affirming this.
"Gem,” Lilliana says, trying out the word. Not quite right, she thinks, but infinitely better than Log.
Turning her attention back to @[Neverwhere], she asks: "Any other ideas, Dapples?”
Eurwen saves her from Lilli's fury. That, and Neverwhere's own abiliy to filter her thoughts, when she pleases. Still something devious sparks in her eyes when the red mare chokes over Log, though her lips purse and turn downward as though she is upset that the name she chose has been so roundly vetoed. To that point, she can't think of how the name is better, worse, or stranger than any other nonsense, and certainly she thinks it a sight better than Yanhua whose syllables her mouth must do gymnastics to get around.
But that's none of my business, she thinks, chuckling softly to herself as her gaze turns to the filly leaning closer and closer to Eurwen. Their eyes meet and her vision swims again, but she's getting used to it now, feels less queasy when that connection hits her stomach. She snorts loudly at the girl, tossing her head at her. Go on, then.
"None at all, Red, Gem is as good as anything else as far as I'm concerned. Unless Spots here has a better idea?" Then, with a casual flick of her tail as though it is nothing, "She makes tornados too."
![[Image: jCdBK6.png]](https://img.nickpic.host/jCdBK6.png)
