[open] As the Winds Blow

[Simeon]

What the..

With a groan, he rolled onto his belly, shaking his head and neck in an attempt to rid his mind of the fuzz. What happened? Last he remembered, Simeon had just returned home to the Jungle and was being greeted by... someone? He couldn't quite recall. Clenching his eyes shut, the bay roan stallion rocked himself up onto his feet so that he could shake all the dust off. Where was he now? Lifting his lids once more, he quickly scanned the area. Ah, the Meadow, one of his favorite places to go within Beqanna where he could always clear his mind. But, how did he get here? And what happened to his home? He couldn't be sure, but somehow he knew he wouldn't be able to go back. Something was different now, but he couldn't put a hoof on it. Flicking his black tail, Sim began moving toward where he knew there was a large pond. At least the Meadow hadn't changed. Whatever had happened had left his throat parched and lips dry. The more steps he took, though, the better he began to feel- about everything. The weather was cool, but not cold. Sun high overhead and clouds mingling. Soft breeze gently blowing over the grasses and tickling his skin. Whatever it was that had happened to Beqanna, it didn't feel like a bad thing at all.

His heart did that fluttering thing, and adrenaline pulsed through his veins. Muscles bunching, the stallion threw his head and launched into a lope, loving the feel of the lush grass and soft ground under his hooves. A short whinny bubbled out from his chest and he kicked up his heels, bounding into a lengthened stride. He covered ground quickly until he reached the water, where he leaned back on his haunches and slid to a halt. Energy coursed through him still, and he lifted his fore end high off the ground. Neck arched and chin tucked, his fore legs struck out before landing himself just at the edge of the water. If anyone was around to witness his release, Simeon wasn't paying any mind. He lowered his head to dip his muzzle in the cool surface, reveling in the feel of the liquid sliding down his throat. Once his thirst was quenched, he mosied over to a tree, still facing the pond and the trees that rose behind it. Feeling more refreshed than he had in a long time, he leaned a shoulder against the sturdy trunk and took in the scenery before him.

[Gunsynd]

Gunsynd

I wanna chain you up       I wanna tie you down

A new day has risen. The dust has settled. And Gunsynd is left alone with no place to call home. No, it was more than that. The Valley had been his lover, his only lover. His mistress. And now she was gone. Wiped from the map as if she had never existed in the first place. Would he ever smell that earthy musk again? Would his pelt lose her scent? Would he remember her every twist and turn? (He would, he would never forget.) 

He moves about the meadow aimlessly, for where is he to go? His eyes are red from lack of sleep. His body heavy and uncomfortable. The black male is despondent. He needs to find a way to fix this, but how? Even the magicians have lost their powers. It is all holed up in that mountain, ever present, watching them scurry around like ants. His bloodshot eyes dart to the peak with malice. He could have forgiven the loss of the magic if it had left his valley unharmed. 

Suddenly, the beast’s movement is halted as he haphazardly walks directly into another equine. His attention snaps back to this new form and realizes that he had been headed into the path of a tree. Past the point of caring, he simply moves back and observes the stranger apathetically. “Sorry.”

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[Simeon]

He was completely relaxed and introspective. Wondering what had happened for Beqanna to change their world, wondering how it'd changed, and wondering how many had been affected. This place is full of wonder, and unlike anywhere he'd ever explored. He supposed that's why he always came home. Despite the face, of course, that all his family was here.. somewhere. Weren't they? His parents were together in the afterlife, but he had siblings. A few he knew, probably a good number he hadn't met. He wondered where they were now and how this shift in their universe was affecting them. He yearned for his family, for even more than that. That was the main pull for him to return home. Oh, the Jungle.. Was she gone forever? Or would he find her again one day? Time could only tell, but for now, he could only move forward and be grateful for his health.

The bay roan was completely relaxed with hoof cocked and weight leaned against the tree he stood next to, totally aloof. So when the other bumped into him, he snapped to attention with a jolt. Grateful for the tree, else he might have been knocked over, rich milk chocolate gaze leapt to the other male. A simple sound came out from him, a simple word. "Sorry." Simeon would have laughed at the simple accident, not one who was quick to respond with anger, except the black stallion before him seemed so... off. Down-cast, eyes shadowed. Immediately, he wondered how much the stranger had lost. "Don't worry about it, amico. There is no harm done." His voice was deep, tones smooth, and he carried a faint Italian accent having practiced the native tongue of his father for many years. Amico, the Italian word for friend, as Simeon sees everyone until proven otherwise. He tilted his head at the other, wanting to do or say something to bring some life back into his eyes. Hesitating a moment while studying him, he says, "It can't be so bad, can it?" Oh, ever the optimist. And perhaps because he is so much of a wanderer, and completely normal compared to most Beqannians, not always the best at socialization. Still, he stands by his estimation. Things can always be worse.

[Gunsynd]

Gunsynd

I wanna chain you up       I wanna tie you down

Worse? He can’t imagine a possible scenario worse than this. 

The beast is not used to such friendly banter, so his bloodshot eyes watch the other male carefully as he speaks. Almost as if waiting for the snark, the sarcasm, the hostility. But none comes. This male seams peaceful, happy, content. All the things that Gunsynd was not. He carries the scent of far off lands, which means he has only recently returned. Gunsynd had been away for a while as well, but not really elsewhere, just not here. It was a long story.

He couldn’t expect the younger male to understand his situation. Perhaps he had never been in love before. Perhaps he was content with a life untethered by ties of commitment. Of course the dark male had never loved another horse either, but oh, did he love his Valley. She held the chains to his pathetic excuse for a heart tightly and vehemently. The loss of that tug was excruciating. 

He can only sigh at the roan’s words. All of his fire is gone. What has he to fight for now? How could he possibly explain this torture to him? “I wonder if death would have been better.” He says roughly (and honestly). “There is little purpose left for us now.”

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[Simeon]

Love is a powerful and complicated thing. It can make or break someone. Undefined and interpreted in so many ways. Everyone's experience with it is something different from another's. Oh yes, Simeon has felt love. Love for his family, always at the back of his mind. Love for his home, the Jungle, who always had been there to remind him of where he'd come from, where he'd belonged, where he always returned. Love for adventure, the soul-deep tug of his heart to see new things and meet new people (or horses, whatever). He even felt a love for things he hadn't discovered yet. The stallion wouldn't say he was without ties, they were just not so tight in a knot he had no room to budge. They say time and distance are the best tests of love and loyalty. It either strengthens or weakens. Simeon's recent years away had proven just that. He'd been away for long enough that the draw to come home overpowered all else. He had wanted to come back, maybe for good this time. Maybe he would finally find his rightful place. Beqanna had changed, but he was unafraid. One cannot love adventure and harbor fear of change. Maybe She is testing them, maybe she has something to prove. He has faith he will see the Jungle again in time, just that time wasn't now. Another adventure to discover the meaning of all this, to step out of their comfort zones and fight for what they believed in.

Now, if only everyone could carry his optimism. But they can't all be the same or think the same. How boring that would be. Eyes of rich chocolate studied the stallion before him. He was a few inches taller than Simeon, more broad in stature, but his aura was so low and dim. He could remember feeling so down, as though he had no place nor reason for being. It'd been long ago, and had steered him to go off again in search of himself. Time and distance had changed him and brought his return. He listened to the other as he spoke, his voice so full of heartbreak that it tugged on Sim's heart strings and almost had him wanting to sympathize. But somewhere deep down told him that wasn't what the black male needed. He couldn't stop the snort that slipped out at the stranger's next sentence, shaking his head before staring directly into the other's eyes. "So give up then? Give in? Is that the way you plan to handle this? Forgive me for being so forward, but you're wrong. There is always a purpose for us whether you'd like to see it or not." Blame his mother, dear Scorch, for that little outburst. He simply refused to believe that change (no matter how huge) was worth the loss of life. After a moment, though, Simeon took a deep breath and lowered his tone. He took on more empathy and sincerity with his next words. "I truly am sorry for whatever it is you've lost. But if it meant so much to you, then moping around about it sure isn't going to bring it back. I don't know what's happened exactly or why, but if you're willing to fight for it, just maybe we can get it all back." Hell, maybe they'd find something better, who knows.

[Gunsynd]

Gunsynd

I wanna chain you up       I wanna tie you down

His dull eyes flash up towards the stallion at the eruption of words. He had not expected such passion from the stranger, nor had he been on his guard against such a display. Again, it is not the type of anger or sadism that he is used to, so he is simply stunned for a moment, fighting the urge of his lower jaw to drop. He can, however, feel his brows furrow in confusion. 

Before he can formulate a retort, the male’s words soften and he continues, offering advice and support. This only deepens Gunsynd’s confusion, unfortunately. But the words do strike a chord, despite coming from a stranger. He turns away, letting his eyes come to rest on the merciless mountain as he thinks. 

He sighs again, and lets his gaze fall back on his companion. “I will fight. I will do everything in my power to right the wrong that has been done here. But it will take more than just me.” He pauses, weary. “What about you? Do you have anything to fight for?”

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[Simeon]

He eyed the other, gaze steady as he'd spoken, gauging his reactions. The utter confusion that passed over the stallion was almost amusing, and just a small part frustrating. He managed to hide the grin that wanted to cross his maw; passion was a large part of his soul and sometimes he forgot the affect it could have on others. But after a moment, Simeon caught a subtle hint of fire in the stranger just before he'd turned away. Black tipped ears stood alert to catch his retort. Good, that was more like it. Even if his companion still held a good deal of melancholy over the whole situation bearing deep on his mind. At least there was enough in there somewhere that Sim could believe he had something left to stand for.

Nodding in agreement as he stated he couldn't do it alone, he moved to stand along-side the taller brute and followed his gaze out to the Mountain in the distance. The source of this great change, and undoubtedly where the Beqanna Fairy was holding residence as she watched over them all. Simeon took a deep breath and released it before he responded. "I believe that it will take more than either of us, amico. Perhaps more than all of us. But I think you are right in that none of us can do this alone. We need each other to make sense of all this, especially if we plan to fix anything. Maybe we needed to fix ourselves, and that's what happened." His tones were light, more musing aloud than actually conversing, although plenty loud enough to hear. The bay roan let silence weigh between them a moment before he answered the question he'd been asked.

Warm chocolate eyes shifted to meet the other's once more. "Yes. I have my life to fight for. Mia famiglia. I will find those that still stand, and together, we will work to rebuild the home we had before, or something like it. Whatever we must do." He kept his voice low, but all the same rich with his determined passion and love. He scanned over the meadow, wondering if any of his brothers or sisters wandered nearby. Uncertain if he should even scout for former Amazonians, he wondered how many he would recognize- or that would recognize him. Simeon hadn't changed much, at least not in looks, between when he'd left and the moment he'd returned. However, time could've changed those that'd lived there. This was the reason for his trek to the Jungle before it'd been torn from him, ripping away the opportunity before he'd had the chance. For now, he would seek out family and those that needed aid. Find a starting point, wherever that would be. "I'm Simeon, by the way." It made sense to offer his name, offer something. He paused for a moment, in case the same was offered. "And where will you go from here?"

[Gunsynd]

Gunsynd

I wanna chain you up       I wanna tie you down

Introspection. Analysis. Self-examination. This is what the fairy wanted. She wanted them to quake with the revelation that she had given selflessly for so many millennia. She wanted their penitence. She needed their sudden, unquestioning, undying loyalty and devotion. He, for one, would not waver. His Valley was the real goddess. She commanded his devotion with no effort. He would not bow to false idols. 

Such were his thoughts when the male came to stand by his side. He noticed, but it was lost in the torment of his mind. He listens to his words, but they do not move him (but really nothing could move him). His ears move towards the sound of his voice, but this is the only indication that he is listening. They couldn’t be farther apart. 

The beast sighs and nods. “Gunsynd” he offers, somewhat reluctantly. He shifts his weight once more, turning from the mountain to regard the male again. His body aches, the solidity of it stifling him, crushing him under its own weight. “I will do whatever I can to bring back my Valley.” He says simply. “I wish you well, I must get to work.” He nods his head and turns to leave. There was nothing left to say.

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