"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
She sleeps like a child with no worries, curled in a cozy little ball. She dreams about wild things, things that are and things that couldn't be. (Or could. This is Beqanna, and one never knows, but hey, she doesn't know that.) She dreams that she runs and her legs grow longer, carry her faster. She dreams she grows a pair of wings, and each time she flaps them sparklets of light flicker and flow down to disappear into the ground. So pretty and intriguing. She does it more so that she can watch them, stops running so she can dance with them. And she laughs. But then, the dream changes. The world changes. A mountain rises from nowhere and all the land's change shape. Her wings she'd just grown vanish, her legs resume their normal shape. No more sparkly lights. Oh well, her dream self thinks. Those things didn't belong to her anyway. And she likes her little legs. She carries on the way she always has, but then she trips and falls into a hole. Falls and falls until she lands with a thud. It doesn't hurt, but when she goes to rise, she finds she cannot. Something holds her down, and then the lights go out and it's dark. She can't breathe, buried.
The small girl jolts awake to realize she IS buried, but in snow. Her panic dies away when she shifts her body and raises her head and the snow allows her movement. She pokes her tiny nose upward until she feels the air blowing a cool breeze to greet her flaring nostrils. She waits just a moment before leaping up in a burst of motion, causing the cold white stuff to kind of explode around her. The girl giggles and shakes her small body, breaking loose the clumps that stick to her fur and mane and tail. She is fortunate for her thick coat that keeps her warm, but dang it there's so much of it that she knows she looks like a tiny fluff ball. Of Doom!! Mwahahaha! She laughs again and goes to move off, but because she is so small and there is so much snow, she has to sort of hop and kick. It's kinda fun though! She makes a game of it, suddenly pretending she is a snow alligator with her eyes and nose above the surface, and her lil bum 'floating' behind her. The snow alligator stalks her prey...
Weir knows of dreams, both from lands make believe and real. He knows places and words and objects that others never would, that they perhaps could not ever grasp the meaning or notions of. Weir knows the real world, the human one, just as intimately as he knows that which is equine. How he keeps such an expanse of knowledge within the confines of his russet head we may never know.
The roan stallion is lonesome, meandering the meadows in his slow and cautious way. A pronounced limp takes his steps, one which had not been there before. One he had earned the misfortune of when he had come to the aide of the raid, when he had fought the Amazon girl as though he had no care of the outcome. But he did, he cared but perhaps not for the right reasons. Weir cared that Warshyshippy was safe, he cared that he never again be pitted against his dearest friend in the throes of war, he cared for all the wrong reasons maybe- but he cared. Is there not something to be said of that, even if the safety of a single friend was not worth as much as the safety of others in whole?
At times he was too soft for this world, yet he stayed, he committed. Once a vagabond, aimless, roaming and now he stayed, rooted himself to this realm, even at such costs. Weir had lost much and more, yet his family was safe, taking sanctuary in the Mountainside, resting their weary souls. He could not deny them the safety and comfort in that place but Weir for some reason could not stay put. He was the man, he had to forge the path, make a way for his wife and children so that they too could come down from the hills and find peace.
A cloudy colored rump protrudes from the snow drifts, pulling his somber thoughts to the present. Beneath the pristine white banks is a child, or a very small horse. Either way Weir chuckles, the first pleasant sound to leave his lips for some time and he finds his throat raw from disuse. Once he knew the joys of winter, that magic coursed through his veins with a passion and while he ached for the Magic of Christmas he was delighted in the game nonetheless. “Oh my, what sort of beast have I had the misfortune of running into?” he asked with amusement, stopping in his tracks so as not to misstep atop the girls back or head.
The snow alligator lurks silently, wasting no energy while she waits for her prey to come near. While that happens- or doesn't, rather- she wonders what a snow alligator would eat. Her tiny ears twitch at the sound of some type of bird chirping. Hm, maybe bird? Nah, too feathery. Leaked blue eyes peer out from under her silvery forelock and she sees horses in the distance. Nope, horses are too big for the snow alligator. Warm air puffs out from her small, pink nostrils, and she delights in the way it makes the snow melt a little. She does it some more. AHA! She is fire breathing snow alligator! Chomp, chomp! Alligator's chompers are so mighty, the snow is no match for them! OH, but it's so cold in her mouth! She sputters and licks her lips, running her tongue over the roof of her mouth in an attempt to make the cold quit hurting her head. Snow wasn't very tasty anyway. Just like... well, really cold water. Bleh. She blows warm air onto the mound in front of her and giggles when it gives way under her breath. Take that, cold! That's what it gets for the brain freeze it gave her.
The little filly- op, fire breathing snow gator- is about to start swimming off when she hears a sound behind her. Surprised, the girl tosses her head over her shoulder to see what made it. The first thing she sees are a pair of red knees, and she looks up- and up, and up- to see a face. Darn it! She'd been spotted. He speaks to her, and she can't stop the devilish grin that plays over her little pink lips and makes her blue eyes sparkle. She pushes through the snow to turn to the red speckled-y giant who'd found her. "I no beast, see?" She giggles, the sound musical and very feminine, proof of her youth. "I'm just a Smidgen!" She beams up at him, hopping into a trail she'd made before so that she can move better. She dances a little, flagging her silvery tail as she sort of skips under his belly (with plenty of room to spare) and out to the other side of him, planting herself by one of his giant feet. "Wanna hear a secret?" She loudly whispers. She wants it to be a secret, but she also wants the giant to hear her from waaay up there. She looks around, just to be sure no one else was there to hear. Satisfied, she looks back up at him. "I'm weely a faiwy." She tries her best to look dead serious. I mean, of course she's a fairy! How else could she turn into a fire breathing snow alligator?
He delights in the distraction, welcomes it. It is something much needed after recent events. Leave it to a child to tug a smile at the corner of Weir’s lips where there has lacked one so much lately. There was always that, children. Both Weir and Eira loved children, the proof was in the countless offspring they had, either biologically or through the Den- they were not one’s to turn a child away simply because they had no blood ties. What was blood anyways, how did that constitute parentage wholy? There were ways to be a mom or a dad without blood ties, it’s not about who made the child, it was all about who raised them, who was there for them. If the kids could count on nothing else being constant, at least they could count on them to be, he and Eira.
A quiet chuckle leaves him again, the girl wiggling her way out of the powdery snow drifts. “Oh I see, just a Smidgen then,” he blinks down as she comes out from under his barrel, amber eyes alight with amusement. “Lucky for me then, why, I’d be at a terrible disadvantage to a great beast beneath the snow.” Oh and how true that was now, it wasn’t always but today it was certain.
As she tiptoes he follows, carefully watching her path and then she stops looking up to ask him a question. Does he want to hear a secret? Well, as a matter of fact he does but oh- she goes and tells him anyhow. “Why I would-” he starts but never completes the sentence, the grand secret reaching his ears before he can do so. “Oh a fairy? Why, I am truly lucky today then. No beasts but fairies instead, should I be a man I’d play the lotto.” There it was, that utter nonsense leaking from his mouth. Except it wasn’t truly nonsense, not to Weir, he knew better. But to the horse world all the information lodged in his rusty head was simply rantings, meaningless and confusing. They would never know what the lottery was, they would never know many things that Weir knew but guess that’s what happens when you can read. When you can read and a Magician Uncle saw fit to Magic books for your impressionable young mind as a child.
“Well then miss fairy Smidgen, I am a Weir, nice to meet you.” The chatter comes easy now, even to his own surprise. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. What ever is a fairy doing so far from the Mountain I wonder? Have you important business to attend down here with the common folk miss fairy?”
When he does that rough rumbly sound again, she beams even more. He repeats her name, the name she'd more or less given herself. Someone had once said this of her, "just a smidge on the small side, ain't she?" They hadn't said it to her, just about her. A reply had followed the question, a whisper they didn't know she'd heard. "Yep, just a smidge." Back then, she hadn't paid them any mind. She didn't know what it meant. But she had liked the word. Had played with it on her tongue. Smidge, smidgey, smidgen. Yes, Smidgen. Smidgen, the fairy child. She loves them, the fairies, sprinkling their magic wherever they went.
Standing next to the giant, she decides she likes him. Big Red Man. No, boring name. She ponders it for only a fleeting moment before she reveals to him her big secret. "Oh, a fairy?" He starts, and she nods her tiny head rapidly, silver forelock bouncing over to one side to hide one sparkling blue eye and leaving the other revealed. She tilts her head, smile on her face until he says something about playing a lotto. "What's a 'lotto'? I wanna play!" She bounces her front end in excitement, until she realizes her mistake. She's a fairy! She should know what this means. And then, an idea sprouts. "Oh! That's like when you have a lotto something! Like.. liiiike.." The girl's head turns so she can look all around. Of course! "Like dis!" She paws the snow in front of her with one tiny hoof. "The weather faiwies must'a played the lotto game and that's why we have a lotto snow!" She giggles and goes to dancing around in it again, making a sort of track around the giant stallion. When she comes back to where his head is, she plants herself in front of him and listens to the words that come next.
Her smile is radiant when he calls her miss fairy Smidgen and she takes a more proud stance (even though that's a little hard when you're like 1/25th the size of the one in front of you, but easier for a girl who doesn't know her size). She dips her head a little when he says he will keep her secret and follows with questions. She tries to adopt a more mature sounding voice when she says, "Tank you, Weir. I had a feeling I could twust you." Then she ponders an answer to his questions. What would a fairy be doing off the mountain?
She'd visited the place when it'd risen from the earth, finding it oh so intriguing and wonderful. A beautiful creation by the fairies. And yet, formidable. She'd felt the magic reverberating from the ground under her tiny hooves all the way to her bones. It was there she decided she was the fairies' child, one of many, and where she fancied the idea of magic flowing through her own blood. And of course, it was because of the fairies that she had even lived without a mother. She'd watched as others clung to it's cliffs and edges, crying and calling for something lost. Watched as others even fled far from its base, afraid or angry. Watched still, when she'd come back to the meadow, as others flocked together. Talk, so much talk. She'd shrugged it all off, imagining she could send waves of hope to all the other horses. So that maybe they could find something in what they'd lost. Whatever it'd been. Have faith in the fairies, was her thought she would try to project to them.
Snapping back to her giant friend, she smiles. "Faiwies can be ev'eywhere, all awound, all the time. I don't wanna be on the Mountain all the time. And actu'wy, I like it here. I do have impo'tant b- bisness.. (these are hard words) buuut, I don't 'member what it is." The girl appears to think about it for another moment, before she grins wide up at mister big Weir man once more. "So what You doin' here? Come to play with me in the lotto snow?"
Children are delightful, Weir had always thought so. It’s true, he had a soft spot for children, ever since he can remember really. Luckily he had found a partner in life that was equally enamored by the young, oh Eira, he thought with a sigh. The bay mare was truly his other half, his soul mate if you will and he praised the fae for the day he happened upon her. She had come so far since then, once afraid of her own self, her own gifts. With time she learned, with help she adjusted and with practice everything was okay- she was okay. It was sad that she had to lose her powers after all that hard work, after all that adjustment. After learning to accept herself, that was the true power, acceptance. Weir had never known the hurt of not doing so, he had always just accepted his gift and not the one of snow but he found that was as easily accepted. Of course when you could do what Weir could a little cryokinesis wasn’t much to lose sleep over.
Back to the present and he is smiling, lips pulled up into a big goofy grin. What a delightful girl, what an imagination!
When she comes up with her own explanation of the lotto he laughs, full and hearty. “Well, I suppose that’s one way to look at it,” she would never understand what it was truly so today he wasted no time in correcting her. Besides, her version of the event was much more amusing and interesting than the real thing. Especially for a horse, because what ever would any of them do with money?
Then it’s on to the next topic, what ever was a fairy doing down here. Well, little Smidgen had an answer for that too. An adorable, darling answer and Weir was happy to listen to it. “Well of course, my mistake. Perfectly right, perfectly right. Fairies can be everywhere, my, I must have forgotten. Everything's a bit topsy turvy lately isn’t it miss fairy?” His amber eyes beamed down at her as he spoke, chiding himself for his forgetfulness. Of course the fae could be anywhere but why would they want to? Why, if he were a fairy he’d make himself a cozy little spot of world and never leave. Well, maybe only to visit the Den every now and again, or make sure no little children were homeless and lonely.
“Me? Well, I am exploring miss fairy. Looking for a new home for myself and my family. Everything's different and we’ve misplaced many a good friend in all the changes. Not to worry though, I’m sure I will find them.” He smiled and nodded his russet head in certainty, peeking down at the little grey body of company. “The world’s a big place though, going to take me some time to look properly. I bet, I bet you could help me look to, aren’t fairies good at finding things?”
09-20-2016, 01:05 AM (This post was last modified: 09-20-2016, 01:08 AM by Smidgen.)
There is a twinkle in her eyes, predominantly a striking blue with some flecks of brown, as she smiles up at the Big Weir man. Her ears perk up as he does that rumble again, though this time it's loud and from somewhere deep. She can't help but giggle along with him, for the way he laughs is really contagious, although she worries a little that she may have actually been wrong in her definition of 'lotto' and that is why he laughs. Fortunately, that worry is very short lived as he confirms she is- in some form- correct. The small girl beams proudly at her newfound friend, never minding the fact that it wasn't always best to talk to strangers, especially stallions. No one had ever taught her the dangers of the world, but even then, Smidgen had never been afraid of much, and she had yet to meet one of those 'strangers'. She doesn't exactly go running up to everyone, but she definitely doesn't keep to herself. She more or less has the tendency to wander into others, or vice versa, the latter of which has happened here today.
Looking up at the red speckled-y giant with the pretty warm-looking eyes as she explains her fairy presence in the meadow, she then listens as he covers his apparent mistake for not realizing what she'd said. She frowns and tilts her head at his words. Ah, he must mean what the Beqanna Fairy did when she grew the mountain and changed the world. Well, perhaps if he hadn't forgotten that fairies could be anywhere at any time, then she wouldn't have needed to make that change. The fairies are wonderful, she knows, but she couldn't imagine how they'd feel if they'd been forgotten. Something twinges within the girl's chest at the thought, as if it should strike a chord. She doesn't really remember, but she has in fact been forgotten as well. Maybe. She hadn't been born from thin air, when she'd been plopped and cleaned in the safety of the Den, but she'd never seen her mother. Didn't know her father. She'd only known the Guardian fairy who had tended her and kept her well. She'd seen other foals in the Den, dropped off by their own mothers, or some such adult who didn't want them anymore. She'd seen them cry out for their mommies, and some even received answers from not-mommies who then took them 'home'. Smidge had been grateful for the magic that reigned, and she'd never cried. She simply carried on, watchful in the brush and gaining strength to wander out. She didn't beg for someone to want her, didn't see reason to cry. She had herself and what friends she made along the way, and believes the fairies will be there if she ever needs them. She believes it is enough, even if she doesn't know it's not the way it's 'supposed' to be. The small girl is a happy child, healthy, and has managed to stay safe this far. What else could be important?
She snaps out of her thoughts as Weir speaks again, in answer to her question of why he was here. Hm, so he had lost, too. The girl watches his face as he talks of them, his family and friends, catches the slight change in his expression (worry? sadness?) before he smiles and says he will find them. She smiles too, and nods, thinking of what to say but then he speaks again. His next words spur her into excitement once more and she bounces. "It IS!! It's Sooo big!" She giggles and settles down a bit. "Yeah! I help you, Mister Weirry Man! Only..." and this time she shows a little bashfulness. "I dunno what dey wook wike." The way she says it, ducking her head and eyes so big and blue staring up at him, you'd think she just committed some horrible act. "You miss dem, don't you? I can tell." She doesn't want to say it, but wonders how good she'd really be at finding something. especially other horses. Afterall, she is very small. It takes the girl a lot longer to even cross the meadow than it would for someone his size. But she can try. Yes, she would do this for her new friend. "Wha'dya call 'em?" She pauses to wait, but then she wonders something else. "What do I say if- um, when I find 'em?"
Smidgen!
small in stature, not heart
((Gah, I feel like this is such word vomit. I am so sorry ._. ))
Well, Weir had a knack for excellent recruitment in the way of help didn’t he? Very good, even if usually he was the one being asked after for help but never mind that now. Without his gifts he wasn’t entirely useful unless someone was needing simple information and he can’t say they ever did. Horses weren’t terribly curious about man things and often the jumble of facts in Weir’s head went unused and collected cobwebs in the inner workings of his mind. Oh well, more for him to enjoy and that he did, often amusing himself with facts about the local animal and plant life.
Speaking of, there were bound to be bright new faces and interesting new plant specimens to observe. He would have to get to that right away, just as soon as he found his friends and a new home for his large family.
“You’re right it is big, a very big place, though I don’t know just how big. But I will,” he speaks, almost off handed about his certainty to explore this new world. His amber eyes are bright with enthusiasm and they look thoughtful too. Then they find the girl’s eyes, giant blue pools of lapis peering up at him. “They, well they all look different you see,” he starts to explain, thinking on how best to let her know without overloading her mind with so much information. “First there is my very best friend, Warship. You’ll know him because he is dark and a bit grumpy, with a grand glowing symbol on his chest, like so,” he demonstrates by tracing an infinity symbol in the dirt. “Then there is Offspring, he was king of the Tundra. He is big and black, much bigger than me even. He has a mess of hair and his eyes are very red like, well, like rubies,” he would have said blood but that just didn’t seem appropriate.
Would she know what rubies were? “Or um, like a rose,” yes that might be a better discriptions for the child to understand. “Suppose we should try to look out for Killdare too, the old Chamber king. He is also big but brown and he has wavy curly hair. Oh and he has scars on the right side of his face and his ear is missing too.” Well, that had to be enough for now he hoped, problem was Weir just had so many friends.
“If you should see them, tell them Weir is looking for them,” Of course that would be all that was necessary, those who knew Weir were not like to forget him. “Don’t worry though if you can’t remember, I’ll stay close.”
10-03-2016, 08:48 PM (This post was last modified: 10-03-2016, 08:50 PM by Smidgen.)
She really is so very excited that her new friend has asked for her help. Even through her self-doubting, she has been asked to do something! She doesn't think anyone has ever done that before. And surely, since he is the request-er, then he must have some sort of faith that she will be able to fulfill it. So she starts to believe it too! But there's still the issue of what, or who, she's going to be looking for.
Her bright eyes are twinkling blue pools fixed on his warm ambers high above her head, and she listens as he begins describing one of his friends. She smiles and nods, tiny ears perked forward to eagerly take in every detail. She watches as he draws the symbol in the snow, wondering briefly how he would have gotten this symbol and what it means. "Wawship." She whispers, studying the shape and committing it to her memory. Next, he goes on to his other friend, and her eyes widen with curiosity. Wow, a king? She wants to ask, but doesn't interrupt. Oh and bigger than the Weirry man? Whoa, a big and black messy-haired giant, with rose-red eyes. "Offspwing." She smiles and is more excited by the moment.
Lastly, he describes one more friend. Another once-king. Wow, her new friend must be super important to have such royal friends. Her chest swells with pride that she is given the task of finding them for him. Now, she is important too! "Kiwdayuh." She wonders how he is missing an ear. Was it the same thing that caused the scars? Maybe if she got to find them- no! When she finds them, maybe she can find out.
Excitedly, Smidgen bounces up on her hind legs and boops Weir on the closest thing she can reach with her muzzle (probably like the upper part of one of his legs). "Okie, mistuh Weirry man! I think I got it. I can do it, I mean I will do it. I find them for you." She smiles huge, eager to begin this search. Her little heart thuds in her cheat and she starts to dance a bit. Taking one last look up at her friend, she tosses her head so that her forelock moves out of her vision before she spins and starts off and away, bouncing like a rabbit through the snow. "Bye, fwend! Hope to see you 'gain soon!"
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