"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
I bear my cross, my soul myself
I forgive but I never forget
Mother told me this day would come.
Straight from the battlefield and into the womb, so she frequently says - she warns her when she becomes of age to beware of battles and the emotions they stir. But let it not be misconstrued; Mother would always want her to fight - it was in her blood to do so. Ithaca was not keen on any of the ideas Prague had for her but for a year she has listened to the stories of old and new, watched with her mother what has transpired from beneath the surface. Ithaca has not existed to the outside world beyond her Mother and the Gods but tonight would change that. The silver lioness had hoped that many of her children would be a good fit, a successor if you would for the Jungle but time and time again they had failed. Prague had pulled them from the Jungle, unbeknownst to them, and sent them wandering. Ithaca has been gifted the luxury of having a historian for a mother, so even at her ripe age of one she knows more than likely most of those ten times her age. She had been carefully plucked from the lot of children and with Lagertha's sudden disappearance her training would become an abrupt reality.
"Go, Ithaca - it is time for you to go, walk among them" the silver lioness whispers as the canopies of the trees rustle about, the old mare uncloaking her daughter from the ground and forcing her to move through the river and towards the opening. She's watched Lagertha call a few mares but now Lexa rules, Ithaca has no real opinion of her but Mother says she is fine. She slips quietly through the jungle, since no one is watching she doesn't bother hiding her gift - instead she walks right through the trees. There was no point in weaving if no one would see. Mother taught her lots of things but she didn't tell her what her real purpose was here, with the rest of them. The young filly was barely old enough to sustain on her own but here she was, ready to forge her proverbial sword and swear to protect the Amazons.
One day she will have purpose but for now she is content with just being.
She sees that a new day is on the horizon and surely the sisters would be around when it crept through each nook of the Jungle. The red ombre filly waits, she has no responsibilities yet and no sense of diplomacy. What a grand opportunity for a new Queen, to mould a young mind to fit her needs.
i t h a c a
ooc: I have no idea what this is because it's 1:20 am and I can't sleep.
basically prague has been keeping her hidden, she's only a year old so be nice. she is baby. <3
Odezsa was wandering aimlessly through her new home. She had yet to meet many of her new sisters, a word she liked to roll over in her head constantly. She'd never had siblings, although the thought of someone related to her by blood who had not helped birth or make her sounded more than appealing. Alas, no sisters or brothers. Well, until now. She had really only wanted to join the warrior ladies because she wanted sisters, and because Vaughan and Lagertha seemed to have bad blood. As simply, childlike and kind of the mare was, this particular little run in and peaked her interests. She intended to gain more knowledge about the relationship between the two. She had missed Lagertha, having not seen her for a while. But for now, she wandered through her homeland, admiring the plants who had fought so hard to go back from the fire and tried to keep her mind in one place.
Deep down, Odezsa wondered what would happen if the Jungle were to be attacked again. She was not a fighter by any means. In fact, she had no real ideal how to fight and knew she could never hurt another creature, not intentionally. For gods sake, the girl hated the thought of accidentally stepping on ants. Perhaps her heart was too pure for this environment, perhaps she could be forged to be a proud warrior. Only time would tell.
That's when she saw her. Hardly a yearling, maybe, the filly looked much younger than Odezsa, even given the mares petite, lanky frame. Her scent and face were unfamiliar, which did not mean much as the silver mare had not been calling the jungle her home for too long. But nonetheless, a new face excited her, and it showed.
Her tail raised, her ears perked, and she picked up her signature aloof trot until she was in earshot of what Odezsa already considered a new friend. She really needed to work on her conception of society. Not everyone had the heart she did.
"Hello there!" She sang out, finally reaching the stranger and smiling warmly at her, goofily showing some of her teeth.
"I'm Odezsa, resident of the Jungle." She smiles. It's the first time she's actually said this and it sounds so lovely to push her homes name from her tongue, knowing, for now, she is safe somewhere.
"Who are you?" Her excitement is apparent, her heart so boldly on her sleeve. What a treasure, to be such a gentle soul. To bare everything as you feel it when you feel it. But what a danger, to be so naive and believe that everyone out there has some degree of good in them. What a dangerous, dangerous game to play in assuming others have the same heart as you.
I bear my cross, my soul myself
I forgive but I never forget
The filly is startled by the incoming mare and bolts forward by sheer fear, she had not walked among the tangible and the living just yet - it would take some time. Ithaca quickly finds that the mare seems eager to meet her and thus, the probability of an enemy or predator is low. Still, a small part of her wants to cry out for her mother but alas, she knows she will not respond. Mother was not much on coddling. "Hi, Odesza - resident of the Jungle,"she repeats back to the mare, trying to store her name in her mind. She processes each word as she says it, she's not accustomed to talking but it flows rather well. The black and maroon ombre child thinks for a moment after her next question.
Where was she from?
She was from nowhere and everywhere, traveling in the womb through space and time; she, too, had been merely stardust until oxygen coursed her veins; a gasp, a blink and alive she had been. She had been cloaked in invisibility, magically transported here; there - everywhere. She had watched the raid, she had memories of the war, all of it she soaked up like a sponge that had been dry for years. Her amber eyes blink idly as she looks upon the mare, what is appropriate to say when you're unsure what is an acceptable answer. "I'm from here, too, but I've never walked the jungle floors; I'm Ithaca," she says, after mulling over all the options - she speaks as if she's grown but she is very naive even with her mother's teachings. Some things you simply can't know better until you experience them. What is expected of her? What should she be doing right now? "What is our purpose here? What should I be doing, Odesza?"
Such heavy questions for someone, unbeknownst to Ithaca, that was just recently initiated - perhaps the new Queen would have more of a firm answer for the girl but until then it was simply a lofty question.
Riva is still sore that Lagertha just upped and vanished.
It stank of her own abandonment at an early age and the continuation of a pattern that she is all too familiar with.
The paint mare moves through the tomblike quiet of the Jungle. It is eerie how even the air has grown still, the humidity high as ever, but there is a stillness that seems altogether eldritch and it spooks Riva in ways that she does not usually (or casually) fear. Magic is afoot, or yanked out from under the very land beneath their feet and she can feel its loss keenly for all that she is plain and ordinary. Still, there is a prickling in the air of something that happens in the Jungle and Riva pauses, sniffing, considering.
She is almost predatory in her actions but it passes, since the magic rankling the air seems to pass. It stings, that the great gray mare has left them and in her place is someone that Riva has hardly heard of or seen. She supposes that Lagertha has her reasons for everything but her petty little heart doesn’t want to hear it - it raises murmurs of abandonment that snake their way through her blood and sets it to a low boil until she practically brims with displeasure. Her step is not kind to the Jungle soil, hard in its thud as she surveys the emptiness that holds only the quiet stare of a jaguar as it regards her in passing. She ignores it, and smells the two of them - filly and mare, both smell like the Jungle, like she does.
Riva almost thinks of turning tail and disappearing into the ferny shadows, but they’ve probably smelled her by now too, if not outright spotted her bay tovero pattern against the jungle green. A shame too, she could have just upped and vanished like Lagertha did but no, somehow, she’s stubbornly committed to this place and for no good reason. She sighs, it just slipped out automatically and approaches the two of them. “Hi, I’m Riva and obviously from here too.” God, she hates stating the obvious but why the hell not? At least she’s being decently polite for once, besides when she is with a certain fluffy mountain of a mare named Fayella.
Odezsa felt bad, she had not meant to startle the youngster. She felt a slight pang in her heart and reminded herself that sometimes, people were lost in their thoughts like she was and she needed to be careful in how she approached them. She made a mental note to be more careful with. After all, her careless approaches led to to practically tripping over a figure nestled into the earth that she believed to be another equine until it's wet nostrils had been poked in her face. Of course, he somehow still ended up being a horse which confused Odezsa to no end. Kryten, wasn't that what he called himself? How on earth could someone be two different creatures? Beqanna was still such a strange beast the the mare, a strange, untamed beast.
Ithaca...It was a beautiful named. The silver fox found herself most envious of the names she had heard in her time here. Everyone had lovely names that rolled so easily off her tongue, names she loved repeating. She was awesome by the maturity and eloquence with which the filly spoke. In comparison, it was Odezsa who spoke like a child. Of course, this was of her character and nothing new. But still, she was awfully impressed but not at all threatened. Odezsa was blissfully unaware of just how childlike and silly she really was.
The filly asked a question that struck the mare, and she took in a sharp breath. What was their purpose? Was their something they should be doing? Quite honestly, Odezsa had just been wandering aimlessly and exploring her new home since arriving. Lagertha up and left before she could get any further instructions, not that she would have fully comprehended them anyway.
"I um," She looked around nervously, then back to Ithaca with a look of despair. "I'm not really sure. I...I didn't realize we're supposed to be doing anything but playing."
An awkward pause, and then she caught it. A third scent had entered the air, and her ears pivoted first, followed by her gaze in the direction of the rather blatant approaching footsteps. The stranger introduced herself rather quickly, and Odezsa flashed her toothy, awkwardly warm smile and dipped her head at an angle. The obviousness of the other mare's statement was lost on her, as Odezsa was delighted to have met another friend. Jumping to conclusions was one of her strong suits.
"Hello Riva!" She sang, her eyes drifting back towards the filly. "That's Ithaca." Her tone was prideful, as if she known the youngster for more than a couple sentences. Her smile remained plastered on her lips, genuine as ever. "I'm Odezsa....maybe you can help answer some of our questions?"
08-11-2016, 07:50 PM (This post was last modified: 08-11-2016, 07:51 PM by Lexa.)
the dead are gone, and the living are hungry.
It’s loud as ever in the Jungle.
As she makes her rounds of the borders, the usual tumultuous sounds of the Jungle fill her ears. Howlers scream through the trees, dart frogs sing in their little hidey-holes, and macaws screech down at her as she forces herself through the undergrowth. The raucous cries bring a smile to her lips. Once upon a time, the loudness of the Jungle had irritated her to no end. As a child, the many sounds of the Jungle had often disturbed her concentration as she had attempt to train with her abilities. Now though? Now they are just music to her ears.
Her rounds finished, she pushes her way back towards the centre of the kingdom, her mind thoroughly elsewhere. She can’t help but wonder what her mother would think if she could see her now, sitting at the Jungle’s highest point …
An unfamiliar scent jogs her thoughts, and her head perks up and brown eyes swing about. There’s no one in sight, but the leads away from her in a clear trail. She follows it, now cutting through the undergrowth with the use of her carbon blades (in favour of speed) and comes upon the little gathering of horses in a matter of minutes.
She slips up beside her sisters, nodding in greeting to both Riva and Odezsa, She’s happy to see that some of her sisters are quite alert. Then, her brown eyes fall upon the girl.
She’s young, almost too young to be wandering the Jungle on her own (not that Lexa should talk, she’d done as much at that age). That is … unless she has some method of protecting herself. Hmmm.
She peers in closer for but a moment, analyzing. The girl does seem surprisingly self-assured for someone her age. “Hello there, I’m Lexa.” The girl smells strongly of the Jungle, so she’s clearly been here for some time. She catches the faintest whiff of another scent, one that she most certainly recognizes. An old ‘friend’ of her mother’s - Prague. Ah what is the old magician up to this time?
