anyone;

[Sinder]

Did it happen? (Perhaps) But she's gone now... When Sinder stirs it's as though he's been asleep for years. He remembers Yael providing him an opportunity to gain a voice (or was it telepathy?). They were discussing it and hadn't yet come to a final conclusion so is it null? His lips purse tightly together as he blinks away the hazy vision of the morning. Everything seems different yet the same. It's still the Desert. The dunes expand far beyond his vision's reach and the heat still bares heavily down on his back. Sand has swallowed a majority of his body after so long of having been stagnant. In reality, he should be buried beneath one of the mountainous peaks but his head at least remains exposed. How? (Don't question it, idiot) When he stands Sinder can hear the falling of dirt and debris in a loud rush until all is quiet again. Silence is what he knows, what he thrives in. It makes him listen when others aren't. A brow raises underneath his unruly forelock before he sidles away from his resting place. The oasis is calling for him as it always does, the shadows providing solace as he wraps his mind around what may have happened. He had Noori, he had a son, he had life. SINDER

[Pevensie]

The buckskin pony has been a relatively quite Queen thus far. Perhaps it was too much of a culture shock, to go from isolated wanderlust to centre of a sandy kingdom in one fell swoop. She might need more time to adjust, to change her ways to an altogether more social being and really come out of her shell, embrace the limelight.

Pevensie decides to save that for another day though, because at present she wanders alone across the dunes, musing to herself, completely comfortable lost in her own thoughts. The feather, put there by the gods of the desert, flutters lightly in the breeze. She snorts, noticing a stallion away at the oasis, far below the dune she had taken use of as a watchtower. It wasn't that she was guarding the kingdom as such, more that the view from this post was particularly pleasant in the soft light of spring.

She dances down the side of the dune to greet him, more like a bulldozer than any elegant arabian faerie. She smiles though, a nice enough smile, warm and welcoming, rich and inviting. The sun-queen glows a little as she draws near to him, enjoying the soothing heat of the sun on her spine, the clear cool air drawn in by the breeze. It is a good day to bring forth a smile.

"Hello, I'm afraid we haven't met before. My name is Pevensie. What has brought you to the Deserts today?" she introduces herself, parking her rump a respectable distance him his own, tail tangling around her legs, toyed with by the light wind.

[Sinder]

He looks almost inattentive and disinterested. The gales of wind lift the unruly locks of his tail as he navigates his way to the oasis. It calls to him or maybe it's just his imagination running rampant. Sinder hasn't reached out to anyone; his inabilities are becoming a greater hindrance that buckles him down into a land that he has so few friends in. All family has been wiped away, erased like the burning pages of a book. Even Noori he hasn't seen in years. They have a child together, but where is it? A pink tongue slides dryly across his lips when Sinder finally perches himself in the shade of a towering palm. It's then that she joins him as though just birthed from the sand dunes. A hooded stare greets her while his lips remain tightly pursed together. Can't fucking talk. (Do something, idiot) Another magician seems necessary. A breath slips from him in quiet consideration. At least she's a female making communication a more probable success than he had in the Tundra. The distance shrivels between them as he inches toward her until his lips are warmly pressed to her neck. For an instant, he thinks of Noori because this is how they met, but then his eyes drink in the sight of her skin where she lacks bark. "Ss..n..dr.." He cannot speak, but is able to at least makes the simplest of noises with his tongue against his teeth. The heat of her body invites him to remain near her rather than straying from her side. Dark eyes meet her own, searching her curiously. SINDER

[Pevensie]

This isn't the first time she has met a horse without words. Her own sister had been born with a stutter, her brother never spoke a word his entire life. How she was the only one of the trio to be spared, to have full use of her vocal cords, was anyone's guess. To be honest, it's the first time she has fully considered the matter. She does not, of course, know that he can't speak, initially. She just stands their patiently, judgemental, allowing him time. Sometimes all someone needs is a little time, to come out of their shell, just as her adopted son had once done. He hadn't spoken a word either, but she loved him no less.

Perhaps she attracts these wordless beasts, with enough wind on her lungs to talk for two if she must.

He does soon rattle forth a vague sound. Supposedly his name, though she doesn't quite catch it. Sadly, her talents do not quite extend to magic and telepathy. Her begin and end with her ability to bend the sun.

She smiles at him though, nodding as though she has understood him perfectly. No use wearing out his vocal cords in effort, besides, faces and just as important as names. She bobs her head, gesturing toward the oasis and the inviting pool of water. "Fancy a swim? I know I do. I've never really got used to this desert heat. My ancestors were much more at home in a tundra than on a sand dune," she smirks, because no doubt he can already see that from her thick wooly coat and large feathered feet. Not built like an Arab at all.

The buckskin leads the way, snorting out as the cool water laps against her sides, relief in an exhalation. She smiles, closes her eyes, enjoys the massaging ebb and flow of the current. After a moment, she looks back, wondering if her new friend will join her.

[Sinder]

She doesn't understand. (No shit, Sherlock) I'm a fool. (You're a damn mute. A waste of air now) I won't be. I can't be. Sinder had ambitions but they've been smothered by his silence. It's both a blessing and a curse to lack the ability to speak. He has to rely on others to understand him or magicians to cure him. It's preferable to not rely on anyone, but the hooded male is at a loss. The conversation is plunging now. Although she smiles and bobs her head Sinder can tell she didn't understand the noises that he pushed between his teeth. The muscles of his jaw clenches in frustration as his hollow eyes look down at the sand shuffling beneath his hooves. She doesn't reciprocate or lean into him like Noori had; instead, Pevensie invites him to the oasis to satiate her need for shade and for the water's cool, inviting touch. Sinder hesitates but obliges with a inhale of air. Perhaps she can be another Noori, a replacement. (Fuck Noori. She's gone) We - I - don't know that. (She's gone, idiot. She doesn't want you) No, she wants love - something that doesn't exist. With an abrupt turn, Sinder joins Pevensie in the water. It laps against his shoulder and neck as he moves toward her, quickly closing the distance. There is an odd brightness in his eyes that plays against the thin line that his lips form, unsmiling. (Smiling is for the weak) I'm not weak. (Is she?) His mouth reaches forward to nibble her crest before he begins to paddle, enjoying the relief from the desert heat. SINDER

[Pevensie]

Her body takes on a soft glow as he joins her, wearing her emotions on her sleeve. She glows like a star, fallen from the sky, an aura of natural light pulled from her surroundings and warping about her apple-curved thighs. The buckskin always loves to make a new friend - god knows she doesn't have enough. She had lots, once, but they've all died. Died or left. Either way, they've no longer here to support her, to hold her up. She's had to learn the hard way to do that herself.

The light she expels plays across the rippled surface of the water. She doesn't notice though, because she is so used to glowing that she doesn't even realise she is doing it anymore. It is almost as if she were born with her gifts, certainly she's had them for far longer than she ever went without them. A life without her sunlight wings, her pearly yellow horn, is unthinkable (though she only adorns them both for special occasions).

"There. Much better," she pronounces, cocking her head curiously toward her companion. He doesn't seem to share her enthusiasm, or if he does, he's being very subtle about the whole affair. Pevensie looks at him, trying not to stare too much, but trying to read his character. Maybe he's upset? "Is everything alright? Are you upset? If you want, I know someone who could help us... communicate. There's Yael or Cammie, either would be happy to help you. But it's up to you, I don't mind the silent type,"

With that, she dunks her head under the water, shaking the droplets from her mane, thoroughly enjoying her bath.