"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
The sight of the phoenix hummingbird had caused her chest to clench, and a wave of nostalgia crashed over her unexpectedly. It was a relief that something was finally being done, and that there was enough interest in bringing Tephra back.
When Casimira had begun to make her way off the mountain she had realized that she was traveling close to two faces that were familiar, if only vaguely so — she knew them not only as a previous queen, but because she knows they are closely related to her brother, Nightlock. Nightlock and Wonder may not have always found themselves in the thick of Tephran affairs, but they had left their stamp on the volcanic kingdom in a different way, with their children and grandchildren decorated with flowers, antlers, and an affinity for wolves.
Tephra had been far more than just a kingdom; it had been a home to so many different families, and the thought of failing them all again hung like a shadow over her.
“I heard a rumor long ago that some of the animals that once lived in Tephra have been hiding in the forest,” she tells her companions as they walk, her attention focused on the fortress of trees that they are making their way toward. “I didn’t dare to believe it, but I think it would be worth looking into. I think the mountains of the Dale would have been too harsh for them even though it’s closer to where Tephra had been, but maybe the forest has provided enough shelter from the elements that they’ve survived?”
Here, she steals a glance sideways at them, searching for any sign that they think the notion is ridiculous.
@claudius @Matilda here have a really bad starter for this quest thread
The excitement that had carried Matilda up the mountain stayed with her throughout the short meeting with the phoenix hummingbird and all the way back down again. It infused her step with a little pep, making her feel like she was practically bouncing with every step. Her heart was soaring just at the idea of what they were all going to accomplish - and what they were going to get back.
It was already a certainty for her. She had inherited more of her father’s eternal optimism than anything else.
It was a happy accident that she managed to be walking near a cousin and the former queen - her mind had been elsewhere and she may have followed just about anyone.
When Casimira spoke about a rumour that the animals of Tephra have been hiding in the forest, it brought Matilda back into reality a little more - reminding her that, no matter how certain she was they were going to be successful, she still had to actually do the thing first. She automatically believes this rumour as soon as it enters her mind and she nods along in agreement. “That makes sense to me! It would’ve been too cold for them anywhere else.”
She starts to think about what animal she’s going to bring back - of course wolves are the first ones that come to her mind but they aren’t exactly “from Tephra” - just encouraged to move in. She is happily considering her options and it’s when they pass underneath the trees and begin to make their way to the more sheltered heart of the forest that she remembers the incredible, adorable, and perfect capybara. That’s it!
She had been mulling over what she might want to bring back to the mountain, but found it difficult to settle on any one thing. Casimira had been born in Tephra (as many had), and when she thought of the volcanic kingdom it wasn’t so much a thing in particular that stood out to her, but rather that sum of all the parts that created a whole. Her hope is that the resurrection would mean everything would come back, but what if it did not? What if only the things they actually gathered are what Tephra would now be made of/
That wouldn’t be a bad thing (she didn’t care, as long as it returned), necessarily, but she is worried that should that actually happen she would realize that there is something that she gravely misses.
As her and her companions traverse the forest, she focuses on each plant and animal that crosses her path, taking it in to be sure it is not something she needs. It is just as she rounds a particularly thick copse of trees that she finds the familiar sight of a phoenix hummingbird, just like the one that had been on the mountain earlier, and she can feel herself start to smile. It is not until she takes in the flower that the hummingbird was trying to extract nectar from that she feels her heart leap into her throat. There, growing strangely from the tightly woven trunks of the trees, was a black orchid — not so different from what grows in Tephra, but identical to the kind that was woven into Savior’s mane.
She knew then in that instant that she does not want a Tephra that exists without orchids.
She does not even stop to consider the strangeness of it; that this forest is not the ideal area for an orchid to grow, but then again, neither is it a place for a phoenix hummingbird.
Carefully, she extracts the long stem, mindful of the soft petals that brush against her lips. The hummingbird flits near her face in protest, but all she does is extend her nose outwards, offering the face of a flower to the bird. She wants to tell it that if only it gives her some time and it will never have to go hunting for warmth and orchids again.
Matilda’s plan is ambitious and ridiculous - and therefore it is perfect for the glass antlered mare. She wanders past many other options to bring back for their quest - many that would be easier and when she starts to realize they are seeing more and more little signs of Tephra she shifts her shape into that of a capybara. She gets close to their natural colour - but keeps a soft purple tint to her fur. She has a hunch, and is willing to try.
She loses sight of Casimira and Claudius while she wanders in this smaller form, but knows that they’ll eventually meeting up again at the mountain even if they don’t find one another today. Matilda is focused on doing some finding today, it does not even drift into her mind that it is possible that she may get lost in the process.
Capybara-Matilda continues on for a little while until she comes across a pond where she spots a family of the adorable rodents lounging in the shallow, muddy waters. She approaches slowly, carefully, gauging their reactions. Fortunately, the adults appear wary but unbothered and the juveniles are openly curious. A trio of brave youngsters approach her - two little ones and one close to adulthood. Matilda doesn’t know the capybara mannerisms the same way she does wolves, but she lets them sniff her and sniffs them back in return. They are fascinated by her purple fur - as she had hoped - and she hums with delight.
This spooks the young pair but the other - a female she thinks would be about her equivalent in age - sticks around and makes a little chirpy noise back.
A little bit of touch-and-go testing to see if she'll be followed (yes!) and Matilda is then leading her new friend through the forest, looking for her companions on the way. She'll bring the capybara right back to her family, of course. Or maybe they'll all meet up again in Tephra!
"Sorry I'm late!" Claudius calls, feeling every bit as clumsy and stupid as he looks rushing through the undergrowth. He canters after Casimira and Matilda, wondering what - if anything - they might have found. He is delighted to see the former queen tugging at an orchid and amused at the sight of a vaguely purple-furred capybara. For a brief moment, his chest is so full of hope it hurts - only to be quickly deflated by the weight of such momentous hope.
In the heart of these few creatures - amongst the calls of tropical birds and the slow shuffle of hot-blooded mammals - stands a glorious, robust tree almost exactly like one Claudius used to nap beneath. He blinks at it, speechless; then he casts a look both apprehensive and delighted in Casimira's direction. He's blinking in shock as he hurries closer, as the branches roughly brush his skin. An idea strikes him and he grins, a look so boyish it transforms his entire face. With a jerk of his head, Claudius showers little plumes of cotton all over himself. Soft clouds tangle into his flowers, his mane, the vines wrapping around his horn.
Transported, the man is a boy again, all soft flesh and wide eyes. He is napping beneath this tree. He is waking up with a sneeze. He is laughing.
"Think that'll do it?" he calls to Casimira, barely blinking out of his daze.
The sound of Claudius’s voice causes her to turn, twisting her pale head around to take him in. She smiles around the orchid in her mouth, delighted to see that he had made it. Even though she cannot say that she knows him especially well, there is still a kinship in knowing that he had lived in Tephra during her reign, and of course, the fact that they share blood. Carefully setting the orchid on the ground in front of her, she says with a shake of her head, “No need to apologize. Tephra has been gone a long time, and I think she would gladly wait for anyone willing to climb the mountain to complete the task.”
She follows his gaze to the tree, and while it may not be something that holds special meaning to her, she can clearly see by his expression that it is something dear to him. And that, she thinks, is part of what makes places like Tephra so grand — the fact that each of them could look at a different part and think that this this is what made Tephra home for them, and putting all of those pieces together is what creates the larger picture the rest of the world sees. “I think that will be absolutely perfect,” she tells him earnestly, her own heart now elevating with renewed hope.
06-18-2024, 08:43 PM (This post was last modified: 06-18-2024, 08:43 PM by claudius.)
In memories, such a softness exists in Claudius that it nearly disgusts him—especially juxtaposed with how dire their mission feels. (And especially when he remembers the haunting curse just out of reach above their heads.) There is a singular minute where that softness shines in his face. The gentle curve of his boyish smile, the sunlight in his eyes, the lack of tension in his face.
“Perfect,” Claudius echoes, shaking his head so a few more tufts of cotton tickle his skin.
Though the gentility of the moment fades as the Tephrans draw closer together for their trek back, a lightness remains in Claudius’ step. He was certain now, sure of it, that they would succeed in their mission. The tropics of Tephra will be restored to their former glory, and maybe this time it will not be tainted with terrible, terrible memories.
