"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
{Are you insane like me}
Mom was gone again. But this time the young fae wasn't about to wait around for her to return.
{Been in pain like me}
It had been going on since she was about 4 months old; her mother would disappear for days, weeks, sometimes a couple months on end and then reappear expecting everything to go over just fine. At first Sretan always welcomed her back with open arms, but eventually it wore on her and she now only accepted her mother back into her life with a small pit of anger in her gut. Oh well.
{Bought $100 bottle of champagne like me}
Her long pistons pulled her forward into the Field. Plenty of horses were around, none of whom she knew. But how hard was that really? Outside of a couple siblings and her parents, Sretan had scarcely even talked to another soul, and who knew how any of them were doing. Surely her mother was fine, just off being a loner, but she hadn't seen her father or siblings for a couple years now. She could still remember the first time she met Sahm and Sidra, the former being much more accepting of her existence. By now Sretan was certainly as large as they, holding the same blue-hued coat that linked all three of them to their father, a kind and magical being. Of all the equines she had ever come across, dad was her favorite by a landslide. Anyway... time for a home.
{Just to pour that motherf*cker down the drain like me}
What's that you ask? Why yes, Sretan is homeless. With a bum of a mother and no contact with other horses how did you really expect her to have a home? Silly question quite frankly. Continuing on now, Sretan wanted a home, note necessarily for the comfort of a herd, or acceptance from others, no. Sretan simply wanted a place where there would always be enough food from her, and somewhere that she had a right to be, where the towering stags wouldn't just push her out of the way. The blue mare could definitely hold her own in a fight, but she preferred not to waste her energy. Besides, that way, when the time finally came, her opponent wouldn't be prepared for the sh*t storm she could bring.
{Would you use your water bill to dry the stain like me}
The vixen picked a wonderful place for sure, knowing very well that scouts and recruiters often came to the field looking for the lonely. She stood in the most visible place she could possibly find, slightly elevated from most of the surrounding area and nowhere near any foliage that might block a stranger's view of her. Here she would stay, pretending to nose around in the grass or simply dozing off with a back hoof cocked, waiting to be approached.
Who cares if hell awaits?
We're having drinks at heaven's gate.
In response the recent changes in the Tundra, Maribel decides to put her best hoof forward and attempt to recruit new faces. The land of ice and snow was rather pretty in the other three seasons, each unique and offering their special touch to the Tundra landscape.
The palomino mare is young and alert to the ins and outs of the field. She often listened to the new horses that had been invited to her home and how they talked of their experiences and this helped to boost the honeycomb woman in her own confidence. Slim limbs being her to the depths of the grass sea. Equines of all shapes and sizes and ages mingling, parading around. Her blue eyes avoid contact with those currently engaged till she finds that of a pale grayed girl...the edges of her lips curl in response as she moves fluidly against the grain of the grass.
"Hello there." Mari is warm and welcoming in every aspect of her life. She lives and loves openly, thinking freely, happy. She is electric. "I'm Maribel of the Tundra. What's your name?" The inquiry is offered as blue, blue eyes watch the unknown face. Her lips curl once again in a slightly lopsided smile as she listens for the other's reply.
At this point Sretan was still rather unsure of what kind of dynamic she wanted to end up in. To her the terrain mattered less than the equines that inhabited it. She wasn't looking for good natured or bad natured, just a group that would accept her and leave her be for the most part. Too much social interaction in one sitting tended to stress her out and make her crave the dark and empty; I suppose that's what happens when one is raised mainly in isolation. The mare could get along well enough with others, she wasn't awkward or off-putting, she just preferred to do it in small doses.
Do the people whisper bout you on the train like me
Just as she thought perhaps giving up and moving on would be a new plan of attack, another fae approached. The newcomer looked happy and kind, which honestly relaxed Sretan a little bit. A battle was not what she was looking for today. A small smile crossed her black lips and her auds perked forward to listen to the cheery-eyed stranger. It always seemed so silly that anyone would include their territory in an initial introduction, but the blue-hued mare let it slide. "I'm Sretan, homeless and wandering."
Saying that you shouldn't waste a pretty face like me
Her voice may have been sweet but underneath it held some level of quiet sadness, the kind of sadness that ever so slightly pulled down the corners of a full smile, and caused a quick glance at the dirt, but rarely surfaced beyond that until it's too late to stop, ending in a broken creature that's either as cold as ice to those around them or dead.
And all the people say "You can't wake up this is not a dream"
Quickly changing the subject, Sretan asked, "Why are you here today?" eyebrows raised expectant of an answer.
"You're part of a machine you are not a human being"
The left side of his hide is riddled with scars, like a spiked grate had punctured through the skin leaving holes in their wake, which in a sense had been precisely what had happened. Now, after he had forced the other horse to surrender in this last battle, he unfurled himself and found several more wounds that would end up being scars as well. Currently the new ones were still fresh and just beginning to scab over. Teeth marks in his withers, small pieces of flesh ripped from his ribs, and blood staining his left cannon where a hoof had scrapped the skin off. Still kingdom life had to keep moving regardless, thus he begins where he had left off. The field was as good as a place as any.
His wings provide temporal relief to the aching muscles. The blue and black stallion uses them to move from the Plains to the field. When he finally does arrive the grasses are hued with pinks and oranges from the waning sun. They sway and rustle their welcome, and he scans the nearby clusters for any group that seemed to have an opening. Interrupting, or simply staring both made him feel awkward. So be begins to move, gritting his teeth from the sore exhaustion that he is feeling from the recent events. After several minutes of wandering he spots two mares, he sighs deeply. Firstly, because he found a group he could slip into easily, and secondly because once again he was embarrassed to be the only male in the female company. How he always manages this, he could never tell you. But life is life and likes to throw things in one’s way just to be entertained.
He delicately folds his wings avoiding the fresh wounds, and draping the feathers over the others gently. His hide still clung to the scents of death, sweat, and blood that laid as a heavy mist on the Plains. His mane sticky and tangled clung to his skin. His tail feathered out and around his ankles, wrapping themselves around them while the real feathering draped over his hooves full of dirt clods and the blood of others as well as the dried trickle of his own. He nods to the ladies, his breathing still a little heavier than normal. After the mare replied to the others question that he had just overheard, its only then that he makes an effort to introduce himself.I’m Phaedrus, of the Dale and Golden Plains. He then offers a slight smirk and continues answering her question as well. I’m here to recruit, what about you? He stops then, lately it seemed that he was needing to talk more and more.
In fact that was exactly what he was on his way to do… again. By nature he was a quiet loner who brooded over all the things that he should have done differently, and made every effort to chide himself on all the things that he did do, right or wrong, it didn’t really matter. If she wanted somewhere that she could disappear when she needed to, the Dale, or the herd… possibly both, would be perfect for her. He would know, because yearly he managed to do the same thing. Even with how busy he would get in other times of the year. Its then that he realizes that he was doing it again, brooding that is. So he shakes out his mane and attempts to focus on the company around him rather than listlessly meandering from one tree to the next, or the horizon, even the grasses would occasionally snag his attention.
Who cares if hell awaits?
We're having drinks at heaven's gate.
The deep blue pools are focused to the other woman. In the time that passes between their words, Mari nearing her head a bit closer so they their exchange was more private. Lobes are trained when she makes her introduction and Mari's face warms and brightens as she seems to practically bubble over with the excitement to meet another horse.
Maribel has not had much interaction with horses outside her own home. Mares had recently been allowed to climb the ranks of the Tundra and that was absolutely outstanding! Mari wanted to race the wind to tell all the other mares of this exciting news! (It is truly hard for the golden girl to hide her emotions and suppress emotions whether good or bad.)
When Mari begins to tell her of her purpose in the field...well, a large black stallion moves over to their tiny pow-wow. Mari stares at the scarred and bloodied stallion with a small cocked skull. Nimble limbs move her away from the sapphire and onyx beast as it was in her gentle nature to be polite. (Offspring had raised her right.) "I'm here as well to offer Sretan a home in the Tundra." A lopsided smile falls across the young mare's lips as she is glowing with pride. She does not boast nor brag. She would not discourage another's decision. The only thing she can do is offer a home.
"It's nice to meet you Phaedrus." The velvet words quip from her pretty mouth before her attention is returned to the fog colored mare. Perhaps if Mari really knew better, she would be more aggressive...assertive. She should be attempting to convince Sretan with quick words and promises but Mari doesn't care really. Everyone should live with who and where makes them happiest. "In the Tundra, Offspring has opened the ranks for women to excel up the caste system. He is a fair and just king and a heck of a nice dad." A tinkle of her small sheepish laughter follows. The silver of her tail flickers against muscles at the bite of the autumn flies. Mari knows Phaedrus would probably try to encourage Sretan to join him but truth be told, Mari would just like to have a gosh darn female friend. They were hard to come by in the Tundra.
Seemingly out of nowhere a stranger appeared. Going off of his appearance he probably wasn't have the easiest of days, with sticky and drying blood covering a decent portion of his pelt. Sretan was completely caught off guard as he answered her question rather than Maribel, and a little insulted. Her words had not been directed at him, and it was rude in her mind for him to have interrupted their conversation so abruptly. But she brushed it off. Perhaps he wasn't in a proper state of mind, being beaten and bloodied as he was.
Living on a screen
Sretan offers the newcomer a nod in response and politely listens to what the other mare has to say. Admittedly, the blue mare knew very little about any of the lands, having spent only a short while as a filly living in Silver Cove and the rest of her life as a (mostly) lone wanderer. Unfortunately, because of this she had absolutely no idea what would possibly work the best for her. "Luckily for at least one of you, I'm looking for a home... It's something I've never had," she stated with a small smile on her face, orbs shifting between the two figures before her trying to come up with a compromise in her head that wouldn't cause even the smallest bit of contempt between any of them. Maribel chimed in about her home, highlighting a small promise of power within the ranks. But, just like her mother, Sretan had little interest in power. Power brought responsibility, either for the land or the protection of those that resided within it, and Sretan wasn't at all interested in being burdened with tasks.
Low on self esteem
She turned her chiseled skull towards the stud, trying hard to hide her admiration of his beauty, even when in desperate need of a bath. "Phaedrus, I am curious as to what your home has to offer, but there is no need to tell me, I will find out for myself. As for you Maribel," she twists back towards the fae, "Look for someone who wants to move up in the ranks, I'd hate to take that opportunity from anyone as I hate the idea myself... But if you ever want to find me I spend an awful lot of time in the meadow and the nearby forest, it's a much shorter walk than going to the Dale" She offers a warm smile and a slight nod. "Sometimes it's nice to have someone to talk to."
So you run on gasoline
With that the vixen once more looks at the stallion, noticing the reds and oranges reflecting oddly off of his bright mane and deeply black coat. "As for the journey, I can't fly, and it's an awful long walk to be starting right now. I can travel it alone if need be, or we can wait a few hours for you to rest if you would prefer. You don't look like you need any sort of excitement right now if I may be perfectly honest."
