"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
Her pink eyes narrow at that quiet, single syllable response, and she feels some of that anger cool off into confusion. She’d like to ask him just what the hell he means but Altissima isn’t ready to admit to herself, nevermind to him, that there is a part of her that would care enough what he thinks to ask. She has to look away to try to collect her thoughts, though they are such a tangled mess right now that even without looking at him directly, she cannot begin to parse them out.
The only clear thought she can manage to focus on is - why haven’t either of them moved away?
This time, when he continues speaking the rest of her anger leeches from her. Furious pink bleeds into amused violet in her eyes as she looks back at him and her response comes easily and without thought. “It’s my new favourite hobby.” She tells him and turns away again, back to the ocean, because there’s a smile forming that she isn’t sure she wants him to see.
But whatever interest she had in watching the scene before them has been interrupted enough that there is no longer any possibility she can even feign focusing on it. He does not move so she steps back and away a few steps, finding that she can breathe a little easier and her wings relax at her sides when she does. She feels a little more in control of herself with the small distance gained, even though looking at him threatens that feeling. Still, she manages to state breezily “If you don’t want to take me I’m sure I can find them on my own.”
05-15-2021, 12:20 PM (This post was last modified: 05-15-2021, 12:24 PM by Tarian.)
Those eyes change again - from pink to the now-familiar violet - and Tarian wonders if she knows how often she does this. It's like the sand beneath his hooves, shifting and changing and always leaving the Loessian trying to figure out where he stands. Maybe it would be easier to be brash with her, to say another stupid retort and see all that anger come sparking back to life.
It's the humor that leaves him wondering and those thoughts feel like dangerous ground for the pegasus.
But more than that, Tarian is coming to find he enjoys her smiles and each one feels like a small victory; a battle won in a war that he hasn't quite figured out what he's fighting for yet. His blue eyes linger on the side of her face - the proud curve of her cheekbone, the fierce glint in her gaze as she stares out at the sea. "I think we need to work on your definition of fun," he tells her, and though Tarian knows that he should be scowling, that his words should have come much tense or terse, the winged stallion is doing none of those things. His voice is contemplative and his expression is (carefully) curious. All he can think of is that he has little room to talk, because what has he ever done for 'fun'?
When was the last time he had done something solely for his own enjoyment?
When was the last time he enjoyed himself as much as he is now?
The winter air is much colder than he remembered when @[Altissima] steps away. Their shared warmth from being so close leached away and like the pale woman nearby, it made his thoughts return much clearer. But even with the heady sense of her gone, Tarian is surprised to find that he wants to -
"I'll take you," he says and angles his white head towards the tidal river that flowed into Loess. They could fly further North, into the hills where most of the infamous hot springs were located. But Tarian knew of a saltwater one not far from where they stood. A place that wouldn't take her long to find on her own and even less time with him leading the way. Looking back at her, oh, he just can't help himself: "You could probably use a wash anyway." His silver nose reaches out and up, towards the dark markings on her forehead. "Looks like you missed a few spots the last time."
Altissima’s smile widens a little as she catches his words - it reminds her of their conversation in the forest. Seeing his surprise and annoyance at her sneaking into Loess successfully had been just as fun as she had thought in her near-dead haze and she was looking forward to proving him wrong. As often as she possibly could.
None of the emotions going through her make any sense - like how she’s glad he’s going to take her. Or how it does not take long for the clearheadedness she had gained with the little bit of space to disappear again.
He reaches towards her spotted forehead and Altissima doesn’t move and this is another thing that makes no sense to her. She should, she knows that with absolute certainty. She should be doing anything except wondering whether his touch would be soft or rough, cold or warm. She’s alarmed by this thought, the only one that manages to be clear inside her mind until she shuts it out. Wondering that is not going to do her any good. “Very funny.” is the only thing she manages to say in response and the words themselves are so much softer than she intends and she’s not sure why it sounds like she’s out of breath.
Or why it feels like she just ran a long distance, her heart racing to catch up to her as she keeps her gaze locked on him like there might be some answers there.
A few rapid heartbeats later she does manage a single step away and the movement is casual, maybe a little too casual. She tries to regain her footing even though it feels like she’s running out of it - like she’s standing on the edge of a cliff. Confusion and uncertainty are at the forefront of her mind and she’s attempting to retreat behind walls that will keep her safe. No good will come from the things she is thinking about.
And yet she stays. She does not even consider leaving or how maybe having the entirety of Beqanna between her and Tarian will enable sense to come back to her. She wants to be here, for now, and she tells herself it is just because the idea of the hot springs sounds like the most wonderful thing in creation and not because she's actually enjoying the company she is with.
There's no real bite to her words when she speaks again, but the teasing note is there as she attempts to distance herself from the other thoughts in her head. “Lead the way, Glow Worm.”
05-15-2021, 05:56 PM (This post was last modified: 05-15-2021, 06:01 PM by Tarian.)
What emboldens him to come so close?
And more importantly, why doesn't she move away?
Tarian hovers there a moment, his dark muzzle pointed to the speckled points that adorn her forehead. He had fully expected her to step out, to give him some sword-tongued reprimand, and yet it is the silence that nearly threatens to swallow him. Her rejection would be far easier to take; it's the joke - light and breathless - that leaves him wondering what might happen if he were to take another step closer.
If he were to touch her.
Don't. He thinks suddenly, sharply.
But Altissima is looking him, her eyes much more brilliant in this proximity than he could have ever fathomed. Much deeper and he dares to even blaspheme a little - it rivals the starlit sky that his Uncle could summon. Those alluring eyes rival any memory of stardust that Tarian has. He stares a moment too long and berates himself for it but those thoughts are far away. The pale mare seems to banish them - all the things he should say. Those words are always so hard to find when she is so close.
The back of his throat has gone dry, like he has spent days without water. That is what Tarian notices when she glides away, when the chill and the cold come to claim his company again. He nearly shivers but partially shakes out his wide wings instead, any kind of movement to call him back to the present. Glad for the feelings that return, he decides to take a few decisive steps of his own, and the Loessian moves over the dunes (though carefully, just in case any Fluertle nests were nearby) with the assurance that she would follow. As the clouds pass over the moment, his glow flickers in and out and Tarian is glad for Altissima's shimmering.
He doesn't have to look back to know where she is.
Funny how before that it had been how close @[Altissima] was and now Tarian finds that he can't stand the silence between them. Another form of this damned space.
"Tell me something," he finally says, no longer abiding the quiet between them. His voice comes harsher than he intended, meant to be harder on himself than her because she seems to blur so many of his lines. Tarian keeps moving - the salt springs aren't far now - as he asks her with their warmth already seeping into the baritones of his steady voice: "Did Pangea not suit a Wildling such as yourself?"
She watches him because it’s easier than looking away and letting her thoughts in. She watches as Tarian shakes out his wings and then when he moves off her eyes track him for a few heartbeats before she follows. There is no attempt to catch up and walk beside him but she is close, eager for their destination and to feel warmth cut through the chill in the air.
There had been warmth, when they had stood next to each other, but she’s pointedly not thinking about that.
Altissima frowns at the harsh tone that interrupts her confusing thoughts, and there’s a retort ready on her tongue depending on what comes next - but then he’s asking about her past and his voice seems warmer. She’s quiet for a moment, hovering between truth and lies as she follows him across the sand, before finally settling on truth. Maybe it’ll help fortify the walls she’s attempting to rebuild to say it, maybe he’ll even pity her and she can be annoyed with him again. Better than… than whatever that had been when she thought he was going to touch her.
Better than the realization she had been a little disappointed when he didn’t even though she knew it was for the best.
The truth Altissima shares is not one she thinks she cares about and so her voice is indifferent when she tells it. “My parents left me there, so I left before they could return.” She doesn’t expand on that, doesn’t tell him that it just seemed easier to stay on her own because that, at least, sounds a little too pathetic to say out loud. Or how there was the very real possibility that her parents never came back for her at all. She doesn’t point out that she’s not someone that interacts with others well, as highlighted by most of their history, so there hadn’t seemed to be much point in staying in a home where she might be expected to try.
She doesn’t tell him that being on her own felt like she had the choice to do whatever she wanted, even when that got lonely.
She doesn’t say any of these things, and just continues in that same (carefully) indifferent tone as she takes advantage of her spot behind him to watch the way his glow flickers as the moon appears and disappears behind the clouds.
“Nowhere suits me.”
05-18-2021, 06:55 PM (This post was last modified: 05-18-2021, 06:58 PM by Tarian.)
Does Altissima know everything she says sounds like a challenge to Tarian?
He's actually glad for the distance between them now, though he can hear her steady hoofsteps falling behind his. One ear flicks back towards the pale woman and as she speaks about the parents that left her in Pangea, Tarian can easily imagine that she made up her mind on the matter one day. I dare you to come and find me, the action boldly says to Tarian.
And since they hadn't, that's how he imagines her.
A Wildling who travels Common Lands and Kingdoms alike with the unspoken dare to those nearby: Come and find me.
Tarian is glad for the space between them now, that they are walking towards the salt springs, because even he can tell that his normally stoic face has softened. There is a bemused expression instead, erasing years of trials and battles and blood. At this moment, he looks almost exactly like his father. Boyish, perhaps even a touch roguish, thanks to the wry smile that curls on his dark lips. The springs, he reminds himself. Focus on the springs.
But the distance (and the long lapses of silence) reveal other things to the silver pegasus. He's grateful for the distraction because it takes his mind off the fact that he still lights up like a glow worm but it makes Tarian introspective in a way that he normally isn't; the Champion hasn't chased her out of Loess. Quite the opposite, he's given her a tour of the Southlands tonight and yet neither have murmured a word about. He makes no comment on her leaving and the bewildering fact to Tarian is that @[Altissima] doesn't mention it, either.
So what the hell are they doing?
The Loessian has no idea. And he decides not think about it. The only conclusion he can draw is that Altissima and her daring spirit draws something of the warrior out of him. He'd been a mercenary once. Not that Tarian would speak of it to anyone in Beqanna, but there had been a certain thrill that came from the fight and he wonders if this is why the white mare is becoming someone he can tolerate. If this is someone he can imagine spending more time with. If -
But that messes with the whole picture in his mind of this fearless woman who could careless for courts or protocols; she tosses them all aside as easily as she could craft her wings. Besides, nowhere suits her. She admits it aloud and Tarian flicks that ear forward again as they come to climb another dune. He comes to stop and draws his wide wings in, allowing for her to stop alongside him if she wished. When the view of the clear water illuminated in moonlight and her shining catches it, Tarian turns his head to Altissima. "Will this do?" He asks her, and indicates to where the warm steam roils into the winter air with a nod in that direction. It's just for the night, he knows. Dawn will come and Altissima will go so it makes him quip to her (because when will he next be able to?), "Milady."
Nowhere suits her, she had said. But for tonight, he hopes Loess will suit just fine.
05-19-2021, 04:57 PM (This post was last modified: 05-19-2021, 05:23 PM by Altissima.)
When he stops, Altissima draws up beside him - eager to see if they’re at their destination. And sure enough she can see the tendrils of steam and her eyes widen a little in delight and eagerness. His quip doesn’t diminish the smile that is growing, though she does her best to hide it anyway - unsure about whether it’s just these springs putting her into a good mood or if it is the company too. And just what the hell that means if it is the company.
“I suppose it’ll do.” She tries to make her voice dry and uninterested but the effort is wasted as she moves away from his side and towards the hot spring.
Altissima lowers her muzzle to the water and the heat she is greeted with sends a shiver through her blue-tinted body that has her wings disappear. And then without any more hesitation, she moves forward into the steaming water. The sound that Altissima makes when it slips up to her sides is absolutely indecent and it can only be described as a moan. There is a brief moment of embarrassment but she closes her eyes instead of giving in to it and lets the warmth seep into her body.
Later, she’ll think about that sound. Later when she isn’t bordering on bliss and finding rational thought hard.
She isn’t sure whether this proves or disproves Tarian’s theory that this level of enjoyment might be too much for her.
She moves instinctively out of the way so he can join her and tries not to think about it after the action is already done. Altissima doesn’t immediately look his way when her eyes open again and they shine a shade of blue-violet as she hovers between being at peace and being happy. It only takes a few seconds for the quiet to be too much for her, though, just as it had been for him on the way over. So she states casually as her eyes drift to find him and they house a spark that matches the grin she wears: “I’ve always hated the cold and it’s only gotten worse since… since I was not-dying.”
05-22-2021, 03:51 PM (This post was last modified: 05-22-2021, 03:56 PM by Tarian.)
Tarian is usually as cool and polished as the smooth marble that his pale hide resembles (or so he likes to think). And yet with her - with Wildling - she seems to make little work of finding every little crack and flaw. It unnerves him. It should annoy the Four Winds out of him and yet as she comes to stop beside him, Tarian's smile reveals a small glimmer of accomplishment. He can hear it, as slight as it is, a peaking curiosity like the rising steam before them.
A little crack of her own.
She moves away from him and towards the spring with a quip that almost makes him laugh.
"We have others," Tarian calls after her, as if he half-expected any water source he presented wouldn't be quite enough for Altissima. His mind even wanders a moment, drifting back to the shore that they just came from as he spies the lovely way her mane has started to curl. Perhaps fearless, bold Altissima sensed a kindred spirit in the sea. Tarian imagines them both much the same way; wild and untamed. While he is thinking of that, his mind isn't on what he quietly says next: "I could show them to you."
When he realized them, Tarian can only hope that her abrupt entrance to the warm water drowned the words.
@[Altissima] submerges herself in the pool below him and it seems as if the air surrounding Tarian has become as liquid as the spring that she was immersed in. That... that sound she makes threatens to ignite something within him and the Loessian fights it with a tensing of his shoulders. For a moment, the sight of her is dazzling. The way that the moonlight bathes everything in silver, the way that very air surrounding her shimmers, the way she looks at him - for a moment, it's too much and Tarian has to look away.
For all his monk-like tendencies, he certainly isn't one.
He swallows when he looks at her again and moves towards the edge of the water, guided only by the opening that Altissima leaves beside her and the smile on her pale lips. When the hot spring laps at his knees and skims the edges of his tightly-held wings, Tarian stops a few paces away from her.
This was close enough.
"Well, don't Not-Die again." His voice is harsher than intends, if only for the reason because he finds it hard to speak at all. His blue eyes meet hers - a pretty shade somewhere between indigo and violet - and Tarian is torn between keeping his guard up or threatened in losing it entirely. "It's not... good."
She doesn't react to the quiet offer he makes to show her the other springs, but it lingers in her mind. The idea of them trying each one out, of lingering here long enough to find a favourite. It is a thrilling and frightening idea that she tries not to entertain.
They are having fun, but that does not mean she's going to stay. That does not mean he'd want her to.
Tarian joins her and Altissima wonders for the hundredth time what she’s doing. What are they doing? The twinkling air around her feels like it is carrying a charge. She feels tense and relaxed all at once and although she had wanted him to join her, she had not thought much past that.
The harshness of his voice does not fit with the pleasantness of this moment, and with her eyes locked with his she cannot figure out a reason for that tone. She’s half a mind to pass away just because he’s telling her not to, a corner of her mouth twitching at this strange and fleeting thought. Altissima had avoided dying just to spite him in the forest, and now she’s entertaining the notion of dying for the same reasons. If she had eyebrows they’d raise clear off her face. Her dying wasn’t good? Is that what she just heard? “Not good? I wouldn’t have thought you’d mind.” She remarks cooly, but even as she says the words she doubts whether it's true.
Altissima once again feels like she’s standing on the edge of a cliff and the instinct to run in the other direction is beginning to stir.
Suddenly the distance between them, which she is so very aware of, feels too small.
Her hooves shift a little beneath the water, creating gentle waves but she doesn’t try to create more space. And she does not leave. It occurs to her quite suddenly that maybe the reason why she has not thought to leave is because she hasn’t thanked him yet so she resolves to get that out of the way. “Thank you.” She practically shoves the words at him, so violently are they blurted out. Altissima does not think about how maybe his rough voice had been for much the same reason as hers right now. Her eyes become focused somewhere above Tarian’s head, unable to look at him directly as she feels heat that has nothing to do with the water creep into her face. “For… helping that day. For distracting me from not-dying.” Although she’s well aware that they both know she had in fact been dying, she carries on with the joke - unable to completely admit the truth out loud so she dances around it.
She had been dying, and he had helped to save her. She’d take some of the credit herself - of course - but Tarian’s presence that day had been the most aggravating blessing she’d ever known.
05-26-2021, 07:34 PM (This post was last modified: 05-26-2021, 07:38 PM by Tarian.)
How does where he stand feel like the safest distance and yet like stopping beside a cliff's edge? For the first time in years (a decade?), he finds himself drawing near a woman who radiates to him like a flame. Tarian watches her, trying to decide between staying where he stands or leaping. When Altissima had been closer, the nearness of her had been a headier thing. His focus on her warmth, on how her blue sheen caught the moonlight just so had been immediate; there had been no thoughts of what they were doing, on what happens after this.
Perhaps he is putting too much on the future but from where he stands, Tarian can't see a compromise.
He is a warrior and she is a wanderer. To ask her to stay would make her a wanderer no more. And what would she ask of Tarian? (Nothing, some proud part of him thinks, because there is nothing that Altissima would want that she wouldn't take for herself.) Tarian is a warrior, Champion of Loess. Perhaps other fighters do not take their oaths so seriously but over the years as a soldier, Tarian has learned that this lifestyle is far more suited to those who don't have anyone to miss them. Because there could come a day that Tarian would step on a battlefield and not step off it.
And he has seen that grief before, of the loved ones who have to make all the steps after alone.
That's where his distracted thoughts go, until Altissima calls him back. The silver pegasus doesn't move towards her but lifts his gray head with his glowing to hide nothing on his face. There is a drop in the tone of her voice, like she tries to summon a breath of autumn or winter herself. Her expression changes and while there is very little of Tarian's chiseled face that could be considered soft, amusement makes him look far younger than his almost two decades. "Well," he replies, trying to take on a tone that is as dry as the desert where Altissima had been born. "Can you imagine what that would have done to my reputation?" Tarian banters back to her and decides that a step closer can't hurt.
It makes the conversation easier (or so he tells himself) when they aren't so far apart.
The next words come abruptly - an apology - and so Tarian stops abruptly. The warm water around his dark legs splash and he lifts his wings slightly, as in some imaginary defense. Despite how it sloshes around him, the Loessian's throat suddenly feels dry. Tarian - for all his wisecrack remarks and all his solitary silence - find both fail him at this moment. He simply has nothing to say, his voice flown far higher than he ever could.
When he finally finds it, the pegasus has to swallow (and it's like swallowing an unripe prickly pear) before he can speak: "You're... welcome." @[Altissima] is looking over him, perhaps at the full moon, perhaps at the stars, or just something that might shine brighter than him. He doesn't know what; because nothing glows brighter than Wildling from where he stands.
![[Image: willowsticker_by_space1993_ddeo27s_small.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/Rq5q2nVX/willowsticker_by_space1993_ddeo27s_small.png)
