"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 eyes flit lazily around, lipping at a few delectible strands of dewy green goodness. Aww to be home again, to feel the ever shifting earth under her hooves. To feel welcome by the land, if not the other living creatures around her. This was home, would always be home. Some how her meandering mind would always find its way back to these enchanting woods, with their ever changing scenery. Frost clinges to a few whiskers tickling the velvet maw, with two whispy tendrils floating from her nostrils the sudden noise desturbs the smaller woodland creatures. They are sent skittering in different dirrections. If you paid enough attention you could see a few winking rays of light between the trees, but as always Hestia knows that others will soon catch a telltale scent of foreign lands if she doesn't keep moving. Then again, maybe a little more drama would be amusing for the old witch to ponder over. Would at least be nice to watch her dear sun wake and begin his guiding cycle through the day. Shadows of the past would soon be whispering to her in dark, tailing her from behind, and the bolder ones would nip at her heels, till once again they would chase her away from her homeland. No one could ever call her faithful, that was for damn sure. Then again no one could call her unloving either. She was just Hestia, green eyed shadow of the past. Watching the worlds ebb and flow of blood shed and greed takeing control and sending its little pests into frenzies before releasing them and allowing them to lead their peaceful quiant lives to each and every ones dire end.
If Fennick wasn’t careful, he would start to enjoy this. Wouldn’t that be something? He almost laughed aloud at the thought. He would need to have a serious, sit down conversation with Demian about whatever controlled substance he was putting in their water supply. Under his own volition, starting conversation was not high on Fennick’s list. Personal growth, was perhaps the only alternative to mood altering drugs.
That wasn’t entirely impossible, but it seemed highly implausible. He’d heard that personal growth took a lot of hard work and reflection. The only thing Fennick could remember doing recently was careening from one situation to the next, feeing entirely unprepared for each of them in turn.
That did not sound like the stuff dreams were made of.
But still, his life recently had felt like a dream. Like a hazy blur of events and meaning, most of it indiscernible to Fennick’s untrained eye. He was in the army after all. He paid good money to not have to do any discerning. He could discern who or what needed a beat down, and that was about as far as he was willing to speculate.
It was highly specialized, his skill set.
Yet, it was was such a nice day that Fennick could hardly blame himself for wanting to go out in the world. After the winter they had it was a joy to see the grass begin to peak through the melting frost. With a great yawn the world was waking again, and someone needed to wish it a good morning. He spotted a girl, not too far off, and began to make his way to her. Company, excellent.
For all his big ideas about enthusiasm and personal growth, the large black stallion hesitated slightly on her perimeter. Finally, in what he felt like was a mustering of soldiers, he stepped out ahead of her.
“Hey. How’s the grass this morning? Edible?” Grass was usually edible. It didn’t, however, usually have enough variation to be worthy of discussion. He groaned inwardly, but tried to keep the cheery expression plastered on his face. It probably looked forced after a second or two.
She started wandering again, her restless legs could never be kept still for long. Looking for water, thats what she was doing, though whether she noticed or not, well minds wander, hearts wander, and some how they all end up back in the same place anyways so what did it matter if a few leaves got crumpled or a few twigs snagged. The wetter the ground the closer she was to the source of her need, it also meant that the louder she became and chances of her attracting attention would be much greater. Munching a few tangable sprouts here and there along the way kept her mouth accupied for the time being. Her tips swivel and tail whips at the sound of a voice. Green eyes flutter closed before her nostrils flare again in the cold with a small snort. Lifting her head she chews for a minute or two watching the sun rays before turning her head to the attention of the source of the most recent desturbance in her sanctuary. "I suppose a response is in order" she mutters more to herself than to anyone else. Though speaking louder she first looks over the creature before her muse finally gets the better of "Well I'm not dead now am I?" She couldn't see how someone would think that the grass was not edible if she were not still standing on all four legs. Though from the look on his face she wondered just at what cost he was driving himself to pay attention to her. Hestia couldn't decide whether to smile at his discomfort or add to it.
The red roan stallion walked powerfully into the field his green eyes wondering the grass land for any equine. He shook his big head and snorted the weather was warm now and it was making Skull light on his feet, to be free of winters cold clutches made the young stallion giddy and energetic. He kicked up from his brisk walk to a swift ground swallowing canter as he caught a whiff of water. He threw his head again as he slowed to the edge of the field where the scent of water came from.
But his mind went from water to other equines quickly as he saw a stallion and a mare his interest peaked. He walked over slowly stopping at a respectable distance from both the equines, the big stallion almost laughed as he caught the forced pleasant expression from the other stallion. "Good afternoon, I'm Skullu or you guys can call me Skull if you would like." he said dipping his head slightly his green eyes watching the mare and stallion in turn.
Skullu
How am I supposed to fix you? When you love being broken?
Fennick wasn’t the type of awkward that didn’t realize it was awkward. He sighed into it, and somehow embraced the wave of uneasiness like an old friend. “Oh there you are,” he would say when the mortification returned after a particularly savvy spell. Now was one of this times. He grinned and chuckled self deprecatingly.
“No.” He said, not unpleasantly.
“From where I’m standing you do seem to be very much alive.” And it was true. She did seem to be managing the grass alright. Still, it was easy to manage in spring. All around them babies grew fat off their mother’s milk while those mothers grew plump on delicate fresh shoots. He shot his companion a wry smile.
“I bet you wouldn’t talk such a big game if you ate some pine needles. They’re everywhere back home, and let me tell you, they do not go down easy.” Now, maybe this wasn’t the most tantalizing of conversations. Maybe she had very little interest in the inner working of Fennick’s gut. She could be left to wonder how continued survival could be construed as, “talking a big game.” None of this could be helped. He was about to make some witty remark about how mares should admire a man with a strong constitution (such as one who could eat pine needles) when another stallion approached. He didn’t recognize the man, but that wasn’t particularly surprising. Fennick wasn’t exactly a man about town.
“Skullu.” He said in acknowledgement.
“I’m Fennick.” He said companionably. He looked back at his new friend for a moment and smiled.
“We’ve determined that the grass is edible and are attempting to find new avenues of conversation.” That wasn’t exactly true. Fennick has attempted to start up a conversation and had, as far as he could tell, been roundly shot down. However, if Fennick had gave up every time a mare gave him a funny look he would never make it past hello. Perseverance was best learned from a young age.
She looks him up and down for a second chewing on the small green blades. Normally companions were chased away by her initial shut down of conversation, well either that or testosterone riddled males would get the hair brained idea that she was a conquest to trophy. Pah! The nerve, most others response was a snobbed over look and an occassional snide comment. It was pleasent in most senses to be over looked and left to her peace of mind in the shadows. Left much room for collecting secrets. When a another more easy going slice of his lips appears her eyes flash back to a moment in time, not so long ago... or had it been? Well of no consequence... After a moment of glistening green orbs fixed vulnerably on his, she tilts her head back into a shadowed half hooded light. Glancing over her shoulder almost as if some one were watching her from the recesses of the forest. Time blurred the lines of sanity and dreams... or nightmares. They all got muddled in her head. Flicking her ears forward to show him no offense was taken she opens her maw to reply when another shows up. Grumbling to herself she glowers at the the budding flower just under her nostril before ripping it.
Nodding to the new comer she replies none to gruffly, "Hestia" when more tit and tat is struck up between the two muscular creatures in front of her. When the fullage is brought up she adds in a even tone; which for most who had known her a little long than a chance meeting would recognize it as cheery. "And the bitterness of left over pine needles." She pauses for a minute or two allowing the conversation to die down a bit out of her ussual respect for time and the avenues of which it can course through history. "So the Valley, how does it fair these days?" She dirrects the question towards Fennick before addressing Skull as to not allow him to feel ignored. "And Skullu, where is it that you come from?" If she's rude she doesn't really care. It matters not how others think of her, but for herself she sees it as simple and dirrect. She had always been, and would always be a no nonsense girl, ready and witty when the time comes, but never one to dance around the bush
10-05-2015, 11:51 AM (This post was last modified: 10-05-2015, 11:51 AM by Fennick.)
the darkest nights produce the brightest stars
Fennick nodded and committed the girl’s name to memory. Hestia. Easy enough. He glanced up at the sky, just for a moment. The sun was still high, but soon it would begin its descent. He ruffed his feathers gently on his back. It would be a long walk, or a short fly, home. He found the idea of a walk wasn’t onerous. There was something pleasant about ambling under the moon. At Hestia’s next words he snorted audibly.
“Yes, we mustn’t forget the bitterness of pine needles. I’ll take responsibility for that one, it wasn’t my best icebreaker, I’ll admit.” Fennick’s best icebreaker was still pretty bad. The fact that this one didn’t even make the top ten indicated how ghastly it really was. Perhaps, in time, Hestia would forgive him for their inauspicious meeting. Luckily, she asked about the one thing he could speak eloquently on.
“The Valley is doing very well. Demian is king, and his leadership has brought a lot of energy and life to the place. He and Eight just erected a rather impressive wall…” Fennick trailed off because “rather impressive” didn’t capture the essence of the Valley’s cosmic fire barrier. You couldn’t fly over it, you couldn’t tunnel under it, and only those with good intentions could cross without being burned. Luckily, Fennick had an all access pass. The brand beneath his left eye still burned occasionally. It was a cursive V with miniature dancing flames in it. Fennick thought it made him look like a badass.
He turned back to Hestia and looked at her questioningly.
“If you want, you could see how it fares for yourself. We’re recruiting, and we could use someone like you.” He tried to sound tempting, tantalizing, and most likely failed. But still, the message was delivered, and from here she could make her own decision.
She muses over the last few days in her head, looking up to the winking sun as she does. Yes they had been very fateful in leading her here, and not only here, but here in front of a man calling her home... "hmm" she sighs more to herself than anyone else. Would it be to much to hope that this time could be any different than in her past? She takes note of how Fennick ignores the underlaying message of her question. She had tasted the bitter things, she had been to that wonderfully dead and dark place. She had at one time walked through that valley and known every secret it had to offer. Now, well now it was a mystery to her, a old friend that she would dearly love to go and see. Hopefully the kings and queens that had ventured there had taken care of the land and not completely altered it. She smiled at him, offering him the closest thing to a compliment that her lips had ever uttered "It was amusing enough" It was a moment in time where emotion and dare I say a flicker of warmth that procided her every thought and feeling of her beloved land Beqanna would unveal itself in her words and dare to encourage another being other than her dark whispers. Wrapping herself back up in her protective blanket and sarcasm the warm moment and soft lyrical tones drop and her voice becomes like ice once more, the creases of the smile gone, replaced with the stoney look of self preservation. "Well I dont see why not. Not like I have anywhehre else to be at this time, and it would appear that our company could not handle our encounter after all." She shakes out her mane allowing the tendrils to fall naturally against her neck and sweep across her eyes, taking off at a leasurely trot to the border of the Valley. Wether he follows or not, she guessed she would find out when the time of arrival approached
I'll post for you in the Valley.