"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
It was as if the stars were incapable of aligning correctly. Something was off, and drastically so. Although his presence was very unknown, these vast expanses of various terrains were still what he could consider home. Indeed, all of it. While all he truly knew was the Chamber, and it was the closest he would have considered to his home, it seemed to be long gone. Dagro had tried desperately to wander paths he once knew, but it was all different now. As he travels, he finds that the lands he once knew were no more. They were all that he knew, aside from what was left of his family. When mother died, his sister, Abyzou, was all that he had. She raised him, and raised him well for as youthful as she was. Their personalities clashed, from a broader perspective. She was wild, reckless, craved chaos. Dagro was more humbled and hushed. Despite the difference, they were all that they had. She taught him everything that she knew - told him stories of their ancestors, of the lands around them.
Yet, it was all gone. Perhaps he never should have left.
Dagro draws himself to a halt in a forest, a cool breeze sweeps past him and the grasses sway at his fetlocks. He inhales sharply, only to exhale slowly as he absorbs everything about the unfamiliar atmosphere with an underlying, haunting pang of familiarity. It was home, but it wasn’t. The entire feeling was strange and uncomfortable. He grinds his teeth together as he ponders, blankly staring into the dense forest that lies ahead of him - where should he go from here?
dagro
landen x scire
ooc: this is crap and I apologize for the cringe-worthiness :x just getting back into writing, i am very rusty eep!!!!
Pandorica's black pelt contrasted with the orange and pink hues of the early morning sunrise. Her back still wet with the dew, she clambered up from her sleeping position and walked deeper into the forest, the cool of the night still clinging in the air. Birds were up, tweeting their melodious chain. As she wandered, her lobes sensed the beating of another.
Her head swiveled, orbes scanning the trees. Her breaths slowing, quieting so she could hear better. There. Pan located the movement.
Pan turned fully around. "Hello, fine morning isn't it?" she said, restraining the urge to give him the warning to not startle her and to not tell anyone else he had.
Even through gritted teeth, the calls of birds that rise with the morning sun soothe him, even if slightly. He found himself holding his breath in a bout of restlessness, perhaps even frustration. However once the sun managed to peer through the entanglement of trees, Dagro exhaled slowly and released the self-inflicted tension. It was uncalled for, really. There was nothing he could other than make the best of his situation and continue moving forward - so why bother wasting the energy on unnecessary frustration. With a flick of his tail, he presses on for a few more steps before a rustle in the forest catches his attention.
He refused to bend to the whim of high hopes. However, curiosity alone compelled him enough to look to the source of the noise. A figure, black as pitch, moved toward him. He flicked an ear forward as she spoke. “I suppose it is.” he responded to her question, looking toward the pale array of colors which dappled the spaces between the trees. “Didn’t even realize it was morning.” it was an offhand, rather quiet comment. He looks back to the stranger. There was a silence that had settled between them. Dagro was unaccustomed to casual banter. After deciding he had let the silence linger for too long, he spoke again. “I’m Dagro. And you are?”
12-28-2016, 12:46 PM (This post was last modified: 12-28-2016, 12:48 PM by Djinni.)
djinni raene
She rather likes the quiet forest at dawn, though today she had meant to leave before the birdsong awakened the equines in attendance. Djinni had lingered too long, she realizes as the sound of voices reach her dark ears; everyone is waking up.
The layers of leaves soften the heavy thud of her feathered hooves, and the light dapples the already spotted blanket that spreads across her hips and hindquarters. When she steps around a broad trunk beside the pied stallion and the black mare, Djinni does so looking identical to a long-absent mare (and nothing like her true self) .
She's always been the best at hide-and-go-seek
"Hello there," She says in greeting, smiling at them both with the ease of a young woman raised in a land of plenty by parents that adored her. "I'm Raene. What brings you both out to the Forest so early?"
She shifts her weight, clearly at ease. Her gold-flecked eyes flick from one horse to the other, noting the small stature of the black mare and the interesting pattern of white on the bay stallion. She'd rather like to imitate it, but her appearance does not falter.
current appearance: black spotted blanket appaloosa with draft build
Pandorica looked at the bay stud. She snorted slightly. 'How do you not realize it's morning?" Not long after she said this, they are joined by another. Her shoulders relax, another mare is actually quite comforting.
Ash on snow, the vixen talks. She asks why the girl is out so early. "I live here, it's that easy." She hadn't told them her name, but that was intentional. She wanted to know a horse before they knew her name.
A mystery she would be, and a mystery she would remain.
After he offers his name, the silence falls again. Nothing more than birds sweetly singing their songs and small creatures rustling about the forest floor to begin their days. Dagro’s ears swivel to catch the subtle noises, something he is so accustomed to. His company had chosen not to respond to his question, which was a fair choice. He wouldn’t push it further. The sound of another creature approaching catches his attention, he finds another mare has joined them. Her coat has a generous amount of contrast, much like his, only her colors are polar opposites of each other - black and white. She also adorns spots where he is simply patterned with jagged blotches.
Her greeting is simple yet pleasant. “I’ve recently returned from a lengthy journey. However the lands I’ve returned to are...not as I remember.” he clears his throat. The nameless mare then speaks, questioning his own remark earlier. “Truth be told I’ve simply been wandering through the night, I arrived..oh about midday two days ago. I took time to rest briefly before continuing my journey. Hours tends to simply blend together when you’re trying to find your bearings.” He shifts his weight to give one of his hind limbs a rest. “Is it really that uncommon to see an early riser around here?” he tilts his head slightly, truly curious. Before returning to Beqanna, his lifestyle had required little sleep and he was often up before dawn.
The small mare doesn't answer the stallion's inquiry as to her name, but Djinni isn't sure if she's left it out purposefully or if she'd simply been distracted by her Djinni's arrival. Given the tone of the answers she does give, Djinni suspects it had not been accidental in the slightest.
The apploosa mares gives a little nod of agreement - yes, living in the Forest would mean being here all hours of the day and night. She can't imagine having the whole of the new Beqanna to explore and still choosing so stay in the age-old trees. Well, she supposes, to each their own.
When the pied stallion says that he is recently returned, Djinni turns her grey eyes on him curiously. He must have been absent during the Reckoning, she realizes. He is fortunate; at least there is a Beqanna to return to.
“I suppose not,” she says in response to his question about the rarity of early risers, “Though I’ve never been here myself this early, so I can’t say for sure.” She could leave it at that, but she is curious and so continues to speak. “You said you were continuing your journey? Where are you going?”
current appearance: black spotted blanket appaloosa with draft build
Pan had been here as long as she could remember. She nodded her head curtly as the mare speaks. You did say your journeying. I would like to know too." she grew more comfortble with the lady and lord. "My name's Pandorica.
(ooc: sorry the post is so short, my tablet is acting up. :/ it's typing five words behind where I'm typing.)
His ears flick to the question asked of him by the appaloosa mare, which is then echoed by the now named mare. Ah, curiosity could spread like wildfire. Dagro shifts his weight again. He knew where he wanted to go - and that was home. The Chamber. It was the only home he knew, the last place he had seen his mother alive, and where his sister had raised him. Granted, he didn’t know anyone else, they kept to themselves. They were young, and wary of others. They played their cards with an air of caution.
So perhaps, it wasn’t truly home. It was all he could remember of Beqanna, before it had been transformed into what it is now. He had searched though, however these unfamiliar paths were akin to that of a labyrinth, around each corner was little sense of familiarity, if any at all. “Well, I’m not even sure if what I’m looking for is even here anymore.” His voice is rather cool and unruffled. He hesitates, though. Wondering if he should even bother with the next question that stirs in his mind. “The Chamber.” he eventually lets the kingdom’s name roll off his tongue. His green eyes shift between the two mares, wondering if either of them knew of it.
The mention of the Chamber causes her to still for a moment, the word conjuring up memories. They don’t talk about the Chamber, Walter and Djinni. There is something in the way that the palomino stallion eyes the treeless horizon that keeps the name out of Djinni’s mouth for fear of…something. Something she’d rather not name.
“It’s gone.” She says when she’s gathered her thoughts about her. It feels like an age has passed, but it’s been no more than a handful of seconds between Dagro’s words and her reply. “All of the old kingdoms are. Only the commons lands remain – the rest of Beqanna has been reshaped around us.” She gestures toward the eastern horizon with her muzzle. It no longer disappears into the the Desert; instead distant volcanoes belch smoke and fill the air with clouds. She thinks of telling him of Walter, of another man that had called the Chamber home, but Raene does not know Walter.
Instead she looks down to the smaller mare. Pandorica – she’s seen fit to share her name now – had been equally curious about what brought Dagro to the meadow. That shouldn’t be surprising for a mare that lives in the Meadow, but has she always?
“Have you always lived in the Meadow?” She asks curiously, “Did you live here before the Reckoning?” She’s not unaccustomed to life as a vagrant herself, but with the endless expanse of new lands to explore she can’t imagine choosing to stay here these days.
current appearance: black spotted blanket appaloosa with salmon pink mane and tail
