"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
Why can’t I stop shaking? The itch of sweat and debris is annoying, making my muscle twitch, and my body squirm. I whip my tail, a slight sting to my rump, I sigh in relief, the panic releasing through the pain is more pleasure than any stallion could offer in this moment. I can stand to live in my skin for a few minutes longer. The sweet smell of grass and fresh air tickle my sensitive nostrils, if crawling from my skin was possible I would do so now. Standing here in the open, standing here in the sun, standing here I will my spirit into the dirt, take comfort in the pain I can lacerate my body with.
Not for the first time am I jealous, jealous of my human self, the self that the fairies swept away and romanced with a prince. A prince that rejected my attentions… only to return here to a thrashing, and a jealous ghost of a lover. I cannot help but wish for a life that was other than my own. One child, one child that despised me enough to run off, one lover who is dead, one owner who had no use for my wiles. Am I angry? I cannot say, my heart beats a burning cloy that suffocates the air from my lungs. It takes all that I have just to make it through this moment. This moment of torture, this moment of need.
The painted sky pains my eyes, I divert my gaze to other softer places, like the trees. My neck is low because gravity is too heavy for me to fight. I take a step then another, maybe a walk through a spring would do me some good. Bramble scratches my hide another relief, one that has tense muscles going limp with exhaustion. The state that I am in makes it easy for something in the air to tickle my nose I snort it out, the rush of air wet, and cold leaving the rims of my nostrils irritated. This too I relieve, the cool water runs over my nose and ankles, the sharp contrast of wet and dry pointing out every sensitive nerve in my body. I immerse myself, it pulls and tugs at my legs, but they stay steady with the strength that I am granted. Stepping to the other side after kicking through the depth, struggling for footing where there was none, my neck is the first to appear. Glimmering with the droplets of fresh water.
A leaf sways, a snap alert me to another’s presence. I can live through this, the water dampened the fire in my lungs, and the spasms of my muscles. Ears flick forward intent on finding out who was there. Hello? My voice cracks with disuse. It is unfamiliar and sounds upon my ears as another soul was forming it.
Nixie
OOC: someone could probably groom her anger, and help her find some purpose in a kingdom... maybe
It was spring for a couple months now and summer was creeping on them. The days got warmee and longer, but still providwd the occasional breeze to cool off from. The large roan stallion ventured out to the field, searching for someone to bring back to his herd. It was a peaceful day for him so far, a border patrol on the kingdom as well as the herd and a peaceful stroll to the field.
Once he reached the field he scanned the area that was oddly busy, multiple groups of equines most new scents. He scanned rather annoyed he didn't come early enough to introduce himself first. He gently closedd his eyes as a breeze stroked his body, lifting his mane from his neck gently setting it down. His eyes popped open scanning the area once again, his view stopped on a pink mare. An odd color, he has seen plenty of horses with colors of the rainbow, but never a pink one. Instantly striking his interest he grew nearer, she seemed rather distressed possibly the reason no one has approached her yet.
He gently stepped forward curious if he could hear her mumbling to herself, but his cover was blown. She heard him approaching and called out to him, her voice was gentle, a worriesome tone was detected, in fact the voice cracked. He stepped forward from hiding in the trees to reveal himself to the mare Hello, my name is Archam. You seemed upset so I came to make sure you were okay. He hoped to not have overstepped his boundary, some mares hate a stallion who wants to help, while some are seeking the help. He was a rather kind stallion and regardless her path he wanted to make sure she was okay before departing.
07-05-2016, 09:43 PM (This post was last modified: 07-08-2016, 09:24 AM by Celeana.)
⍢Celeana⍢
Celeana enters the field for the first time, the stench of body odor and sweat over powers her lungs, causing her to cough harshly as the soiled air enters her young lungs. She searches the crowds of equine for someone alone, for someone worthy of her kingdom. Her body shifts away from men, her fear is empowered by her determination to find another sister to join her kingdom.
Azure eyes scan the area, setting upon a pastel pink mare. She's alone and quite frazzled. Perhaps she shares the same hatred for the masculine gender as she did? The nares of her nostrils flare as she guides her slender appaloosa body past the crowds of stallions, allowing a kick to fly every once in a while as a fair warning of caution. This bitch is not to be messed with.
By the time the amazonian girl reaches the magenta women, she finds a roan bastard had already confronted her. Pestering her with a sympathetic pick up line. Something she had seen too often. Indigo eyes roll in a rather dramatic motion, as she steps out of the foliage. "She's fine. The last thing she needs is another stallion in her life." Her normal sassy tone is released from her lips. Celeana could tell by the pink mare's scent that she had previously been apart of a herd, the scent of the asshole who had held her captive was laced with the aromas of undergrowth and rocks.
Hesitantly the appaloosa mare, throws a kick in the stallions direction. Her hoof doesn't come in contact with his skin but, barely misses, only by possibly a few centimeters."I'm Celeana of the Jungle." She pauses her eyes lingering upon the stallion. "Care to share a name?" She questions. Turning her attention towards the roan brute she adds on, "And sweetheart, I can tell you hoarde your little toys. Their scents are all over you. Now run along to the playground hun. Go play with someone your own size." She chuckles at her own joke like a naive little bitch, that's because she is a naive little bitch.
I quake in my skin, and after the words disembody themselves from my lips the creatures steps out of the shadows. It’s a male, another one, I dip my head to the ground in a form of submission. I know my place; I know better than to cross a male. I prepare myself for the worst, for the forced intentions, and the needed physical expressions of supremacy by another one of the male kind. More words echo in my ears, and they prick forward with interest and surprise. Pale eyes dare to glance up at him for a moment before diving back to the solidity of the dirt beneath my hooves. None had offered a name before, only Zayn had asked how she faired… something in me feels a tug, and I withdraw into myself a little bit deeper. This is physically expressed through the weight shifting to my back legs. I don’t trust my voice at first, my lips part, but no sound escapes, they close and open again, this time a quaking sound stirs the air around me. I…I’m Nixie, thank you… before I can finish there is another that comes about, I clamp my tail to my skin my muscles tense with unrest.
I stare in awe of her spirit, he ability to speak her mind and treat the stallion as a equa….. lesser. For a moment I back up thinking of running back into the shadows, but my wonder at the actions of these two hold me in place. How would he respond to so brash an action? Would the woman submit to him? What exactly would happen, were not mares simply men’s play things? As she so eloquently put it. She too offers a name, and I respond quickly I’m Nixie, I do not smile, not of yet anyways. Doing so would not only be a strange feeling, but also an ugly look considering I had not done so in several years. My head raises to shoulder level, still hanging low for most horses, but not as submissive as I was prone to. Something about this new mare’s strength bolsters my own. It is at this moment that one of the faeries fly by giggling in the way that they do on occasion. It brushes my skin and suddenly nubs bulge under my skin.
I turn with a gasp looking to them as best I can, even as I look they tear through skin bleeding with newly formed bone. A cry of pain escapes my mouth, bewildered, and scared I watch as it lengthens and thickens until they are fully formed feathery wings. Just as pink as the rest of me, my heart sinks, as well as my head. If the fact that I just grew wings in front of these people wasn’t embarrassing enough, they too were just as eye catching pink as the rest of me. I stand there tender and bleeding, sore and humiliated. What was I to do now? How freakish they must think I am, I cannot look to them to see their revulsion, I dare not move the new appendages to try and furl them into my body, the pain is too much for that at the moment. So instead they lay there against skin and grass limp, useless and pink…. I’m sorry I panic and let the words slip out, how could I have let this happen in this moment of trying to find acceptance into a new home. I wouldn’t be surprised if both of them had taken off after seeing that display.
The bay roan gazed at the mare who dropped her head and refused to look at him, she seemed almost afraid of Archam. He certainly was not to be feared, he did not know her past but he would cause no harm to the pink mare. It was not long before the pair turned into a trio, his eyes stayed on the one who introduced herself as Nixie, her body grew more tense. Finally he turned his gaze to the black and white mare who approached, she reaked of the Jungle and surely had the attitude of those mares. The kingdom was a mares only kingdom, and for whatever reason each and every mare had some sort of hatred for males.
He was about to give a snarky reply to the black and white mare, talking rubbish about his herd life but in that moment a bloody squeal exited the mouth of Nixie. His head shot left to view what was wrong, nothing visibly, that is until blood started to drip down. His eyes grew wide in disbelief, he had no magical powers and could not help her, a few moments passed and wings started to form on her back. This was by far the strangest thing his eyes have every layed on. Traited horses was not a new thing although he has never seen a horse grow wings as an adult, they were always born with them.
Once the wings were formed and full the mare did not speak nor return her gaze back to him or Celeana, she stood there with distraught in her eyes. He stepped forward but stopped remembering her fear of the others, perhaps the Jungle would be a nice fit for the mare who eased with the presence of Celeana. Are you okay? the words came out and he felt stupid, obviously she wasn't okay, but what could he do to help her? He had no powers, he could do nothing to heal the mare all he could offer was support.
She isn't shocked. She isn't frightened. She isn't the least bit mystified as Archam. She knows Nixie is fine, she's more than fine. She's blessed. The Faeries had granted her with a gift, a gift quite like what the spirit of the jungle granted new sisters. This was not to think little of but, it did guarantee Nixie was not only needed within the Jungle but was destined to join the sisterhood.
The girl bows her head in a matter of respect. Something like this doesn't happen to often in beqanna, most equine are gifted with such abilities at birth, others earn them in the different dimensions of quests. But Nixie was granted her wings from the faeries of Beqanna. Her ebony lobes swivel to the deep vocals of Archam, once again asking the same god damn question. "She's fine. She's strong." Celeana states with a less snarky tone.
This conversation is going no where. Archam continues on playing the sympathetic card, as if he gave a real damn about Nixie. So Celeana decided to let out straight and simple, "The Jungle needs strong, dependent equine. Something that you seem up to the challenge?" She rolls her shoulders in a relaxed motion. "So, Nixie. Would you prefer a life within a herd? Or a life apart of a respectable sisterhood?" She tilts her head awaiting an answer. Whether she would return back with a future sister or return to her kingdom alone.
