so let's drink to your health; magnus

[Nao]

Her creamy mane tangles in the breeze as she moves through the spring grasses with a bold stride. She is a slender thing – quite beautiful and all too aware of the fact. Though she and her brother had only recently settled there, she brings with her the scent of the Desert (dry heat and rough sand). Regardless, she had decided she would see him again. She had liked the ease of him, the quick wit and the charm, though she is far from being lovestruck – like he’d said, interesting company passes the time. And when she has so much of it to pass, she would not deny herself the pleasure of such company as Magnus’ promised to be. Tossing her shapely head, she surveys the gentle land with sharp almond eyes. The kingdom might have suited Ikaro well, had he not made up his mind otherwise the minute the magician had spoken into the secret of their thoughts. The recollection irks her still – it had been a presumptuous invasion, and an unwelcome one at that. As for Nao, perhaps the Gates would have been too still and too peaceful a place. The corner of her mouth tilts, remembering how he had called it Heaven. And maybe it was, for some; but Nao wonders whether Magnus considers it his. Maybe it was only hers – this ‘someone’ to whom he makes promises. Promises he endeavors to keep. Perhaps she might meet this her here, too. Her call is short (self-assured), and soon she glimpses the winged buckskin drawing near through a sunlit grove. She smiles and closes the distance between them herself. The shadow of freshly-bloomed leaves cast hazy patterns across the sorrel of her coat. “Magnus,” she greets him, her voice liquid and smooth, “How are you?” Her eyes look over him, unabashed in their interest. “You promised me tales from beyond the deep blue, which I've come to collect.”  He was a handsome thing – after all, she would know – and so she leans in, brushing her muzzle indulgently across the silky feathers of one wing. Drawing back, she tilts her head at him rather casually. “This isn't a bad time, I hope?” And she blinks up at him, a subtle flash in the rich almond of her gaze. nao you could never feel my story, it's all you know give up, we needed the company so let's drink to your health

[magnus]

you and I both know that the house is haunted
and you and I both know that the ghost is me

Company as interesting as hers would be a difficult thing to pass up, and he is pleased when he hears her call—although the distinct scent of sand and heat is a hard thing to miss. Of course, the golden stallion can hardly blame her for her choice in home, and he bears no grudge as he makes his way toward her, eagle wings tucked at his side. She was beautiful—it would be impossible to deny it—and his scarred mouth curls with pleasure as he finally arrives near her. “Well, well, you’ve decided to see me after all.”

Magnus was not immune to the allure of beautiful things, or sharp-tongued women. He had been raised among some of the most beautiful and sharp-tongued in all of Beqanna, and he had learned from a young age to appreciate women for all that they represented. While he could appreciated the camaraderie of fellow stallions, it was not his company of choice. He much preferred to while away his hours with mares—they brought out the best in him—and, if he was being honest, he very much liked those like Nao.

She curls into his side and he smiles down at her, comfortable with the physical closeness. “Did I?” he muses as they walk, gold-flecked eyes flashing with amusement. “Perhaps that was before you broke my heart.” He pulls his scarred mouth into a faux-frown. “It’s hard to recall around the shattering of my emotions.” Magnus reaches over and deliberately pressing his muzzle into the slender, feminine slope of her neck. “Just like I thought, you smell of a home that is distinctly not the Gates. How will I survive?”

Chuckling, he alters their course closer to where the scarred Mother Tree still spiraled out of the ground, grand even in her wounds. “Fortunately for you, there is never a bad time to spend a few hours with a pretty mare.” He looks down, watching the flash of her among eyes. “But perhaps I want your stories more than I want to share mine.” He ruffles his forelock. “What do you say to that?”

MAGNUS

once general. once lord. once king.