"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
02-02-2017, 11:34 PM (This post was last modified: 02-02-2017, 11:35 PM by Rhonen.)
rhonen
molten eyes and a smile made for war
Leaves crunch underfoot, and he lowers his head to inhale the spicy scent of them broken beneath him, admiring the bold colors that complement his own. She wasn’t kidding when she said Autumn forest.
Rhonen had waited a while after Karaugh gave him the instructions to get here; he didn’t want to seem too eager. Instead he had wandered around the Meadow and the Forest, watching for the signs of his evils having been released, making some idle conversation. Only after a few days, when he once again got so on edge from watching the constant stream of coming and going and strangers did he admit that he had to get away. He’d gone to the Field to find an escape, and it was time to escape.
Here, the watch would be easier. Once he got used to the people who lived here, it would be easier to watch for the coming of War, Conquest, Famine, and Death. Here, perhaps he could find out how to get his powers back before the seal broke open again inside him. Here, perhaps he would hear news of the other seal holder’s fates during the upheaval.
He doesn’t let himself think the other things, except in the dead of night when he awakes from nightmares that darken his coat with sweat: here, perhaps he will find a family; here, perhaps, he can replace what he has lost.
Rhonen doesn’t call for her. He doesn’t call for anyone, instead he sets about exploring, taking stock of this new place he might call home. Leaves, trees, leaves, trees; is there anything else? Oh, yeah, rocks. It is before one of those enormous boulders that he finally stops, head tilted, studying it, imaging the force of nature or magic that it would take to heave such giant rocks from beneath the earth and leave them in the middle of an otherwise perfectly boring forest.
The journey to the Field had been long but the journey home had been longer. She wasn't about to make the trip again anytime soon so she made it count. She hoped she was successful in her mission. Quite persuasive at times but they had their free will. She wouldn't force them to be here if they didn't wish to be.
Upon reentering the colorful forest of Sylva, leaving the darkness of Tagia, she sighed in relief. It was good to be back. Halting briefly at the border she inhaled deeply. Drawing in scents of those who had passed thru recently. Nothing was strong enough to spark her interest so she continued on. Weaving her way thru the trunks of the never ending woodlands. Thinking back to the red one she met in the Fields. The secrets he seemed to hold so tightly. His displeasure for this world. A slight smirk crept upon her lips as she thought of how he resisted her so. The sting subconsciously still pulsed upon her flesh. Only time would tell if she had successfully intrigued him the way he had her...
The sound of movement draws his frown away from the giant rock (he still wants to know if it’s natural, or perhaps dragged from the ground by the hand of magic?) and he puts dark eyes on someone who is not a stranger. Not yet anything else, but no longer a stranger. Rhonen turns from his geology contemplation to face her, waiting for her to notice him. Only once she has looked at him, recognition in her face, does Rhonen speak.
“Karaugh,” he lets the word fall from his lips in an easy manner, not as rigid as he had been in the Field. This is different – something about the dappled, warm light filtering down from between the trees puts him at ease. A smirk follows the name, still all sharp edges and fierce. He remembers the way she had pressed against him, and he remembers the feeling of the sharp nip he had delivered. It had been new the violence, but strangely satisfying.
(A part of him hates himself for it, but the anger in his chest revels in it and he pushes that part away).
“Well, I’m here.” he continues after a pause, glancing idly around. “Care to show me around this great land of yours?”
Maybe she was exhausted from her travels and that is why she had missed his scent. Maybe she overlooked him standing idle before the stone since his copper tone mixed well with the landscapes backdrop. Regardless his bright white markings gave him away. Seeing him looking upon her, waiting for her to see him she ceased motion. Lobes flickered forward in greeting as her name was placed upon his tongue. He had came. She smiled happily as she continued forward towards him. As she twisted thru the brush her attention never shifted. Dark orbs studied him as she neared looking for any rejection of her advancement. Something was different today...
Halting before him she took in that smirk as an invitation. Happily she returned the expression. "It's good to see you again." Their last meeting had been intense to say the least. Maybe she pushed too hard but that was her ways. She remained still this time though. Had he wanted to be closer he would do so on his own.
Content on her position for the moment she rested. Hindlimb cocked as her hips shifted. It had been a long walk and her cave was across the kingdom. He asked for a tour of the lands so she nodded her crown in agreement. "These are not my lands but I would gladly give you a tour. My cave is on the western ridgeline. If you wish to join me."
If there was one thing that Zhenga had in common with her dam, it was her desire to run. Even though Raxa did it to stay in good shape to be a warrior for Sylva, Zhenga did it because she found it fun. She loved the feeling of the wind in her mane, her hooves thundering on the ground as she raced through the grassy meadows and trees that were found in her home. She was just a free spirit, and loved every minute of it. Even one day, when she'd take up an official rank in the kingdom, she would retain that part of her.
So, whenever she had a chance to go out and run, Zhenga took it. Often times, she would also try and drag her friend, Eiria, out with her. Zhenga would've asked Siba first, but she hadn't seen the filly since the kingdoms had changed. She figured that Siba was off taking care of her dam, since the medicine hat mare seemed a bit depressed that Nymphetamine wasn't around a lot. Siba was a lot like Raxa and Zhenga, in the latter's opinion, but also much more responsible, which would make sense if she was taking care of Nitika.
Zhenga let out a whiny of joy as she felt the warm sun on her back, the breeze blowing her mane and tail back as she sprinted fast as she could across the meadow. She heard another set of hooves behind her, and she laughed as she glanced back. This morning, she'd invited Eiria to come out on a run with her, and, looking back, she could see the champagne mare chasing after her.
"Come on you slowpoke!" Zhenga shouted, knowing full well that the mare could probably keep up with her if she really tried. Just to mess with her friend, Zhenga put on a burst of speed, her legs a blur beneath her roan body as she flat out galloped even faster, dust kicking up behind her.
Finally, after several more yards of running, Zhenga began slowing down, waiting until she was in a slow canter before tucking her hind legs under her and sliding to a halt. She reared up, letting out an excited whinny, thrilled with the joy that run had brought her. Once she came back down, she snorted and shook out her neck, her long black mane falling on both sides of her neck in its typical odd fashion. Her forelock split over the small white star on her forehead, a marking she did try to hide from her dam's friend Anahi whenever they met up.
She could see the pain in Anahi's eyes whenever she glimpsed the star marking. It reminded her too much of them... Zhenga couldn't know what that pain really felt like. She had known her sire, much like all of Anahi's foals, but soon after she'd reached weaning age, her dam had pretty much cut Jedi out of their lives. Zhenga didn't really know why, and had wanted to ask. Then, the lands changed, and Raxa made a point to leave Jedi out of their lives again. The roan filly was somewhat disappointed, but she sensed her dam had a reason. Raxa had a reason for everything she did, and despite Zhenga's rebellious streak, she knew to listen to her dam. Perhaps Raxa was right, perhaps she was wrong. Zhenga just wouldn't question it.
While waiting for Eiria to catch up, the wind shifted. Zhenga's senses turned as her nostrils were filled with the scent of two other horses, not far away by the strength of the smell. One, she recognized, the other, no. So, immediately, she decided she would check this out.
Calling to Eiria to tell her to follow, and ignoring the slight fatigue that had been building up while she waited, Zhenga galloped toward the source of the smell. Her eyes glimpsed two forms in the distance, by the edge of the tree line before it gave way to meadow grass. One was a dark horse, a mare that Zhenga identified as Karaugh. If she remembered correctly, that dark mare shared the same sire as her friend, Siba. Sibs's paint markings were a shade or two lighter than Karaugh's, thanks to Nitika's own colors, but the resemblance was there just enough that a wall-trained eye could make it out.
Sliding to a stop once again, a few yards from the two horses, Zhenga took in the other one's form. A young stallion, chestnut, with white points on the legs, and a blaze down his sleek face. Glancing between the mare and stallion, a playful glitter flashed through Zhenga's eyes. She was never one to pass up the chance at teasing, which is what often got her into trouble.
"Hey Karaugh," Zhenga said, taking in big gulps of air to catch her breath. She stopped a few feet from the duo, her black tail flicking back and forth to get rid of the flies buzzing around her. "Who's your friend? Another newcomer from the meadow?" she asked teasingly.
Seriously, did that filly have to make a competition out of everything the two of them did? Eiria supposed that was what came with having a best friend, but still, every time. Eiria was a fast mare herself, inheriting her speed from her dam moreso than her bulky-framed sire. However, Zhenga seemed unstoppable; she was impossibly fast for a filly, perhaps even faster than her dam. And that was saying something, since Raxa was one of the fastest horses that Eiria knew.
Following a quiet session this morning, training under the watchful eyes of their dams, Eiria and Zhenga had decided to go and check out this hidden grove the roan filly had said she found about a week ago. Always one for exploring, Eiria decided to tag along, eager to see what the place looked like. She definitely had her dam's curiosity, if anything.
Shortly after the two of them had departed from the herd grazing grounds, Zhenga had challenged Eiria to a race to the tree line, which seemed a bit out of the way to Eiria. Why all the way out there, close to the territory's border? Zhenga had clarified that the trail to the grove she found was easily found near the edge of the tree line, which is how she even remembered where it was. Otherwise, if they had gone another way, the roan filly would've forgotten.
Eiria swore that Zhenga would lose her head if it wasn't attached to her neck.
The champagne mare galloped along after the filly, pleased when she saw her friend slow down up ahead. Maybe they were finally close? The tree line was coming to an end, so Eiria hoped so. She loved to run, but she wasn't as fast as her friend. It was really only thanks to the stamina she built up running as a filly that she was still running now.
Before Eiria could meet up with Zhenga, the roan took off again, this time, heading in the direction of the trees. Trusting that her friend knew where she was going, Eiria followed, only to be surprised when she saw something after she rounded the trees.
Zhenga was standing next to two horses; a dark mare Eiria remembered was called Karaugh, and a chestnut white-point stallion, young by the looks of him if not middle-aged like Eiria's dam. As the more friendly and non-teasing of the two, Eiria decided to head up there and rescue the two horses from the playful antics of the roan filly.
Walking up, giving her head a light shake and struggling to speak without wheezing for air in between, Eiria spoke, "Easy there Zhenga. No need for teasing," she chastised. The champagne smiled at the dark mare, "Good morning Karaugh. How are you today?"
She comes closer and he continues to watch her, listening to her words. Karaugh claims it’s not her land, but he disagrees. If she makes a home here, she has some claim on the place. Like it had been his Falls, though he had never ruled it. He says nothing, simply watches her while he ponders it. Perhaps she does not feel the attachment to Sylva that he felt to the Falls; perhaps without generations of its people running through her blood, she can’t feel for Sylva like he once felt. He supposes he will find out, since he has no such connection to Sylva either.
Rhonen opens his mouth to agree to her tour, deciding not to say anything about the Falls, when they are not alone. A roan filly, younger than himself but certainly a young adult, slides to a stop by them, greeting Karaugh; and then there is another. He flicks darks eyes momentarily to Karaugh, and then muffles a sigh, accepting that he will not have her to himself for a while. Turning to the two strangers, the chestnut boy adopts what he hopes is a neutral, if not friendly, expression. “I’m not from the Meadow.” he tells the younger of the mares, something dangerous flashing in his eyes, his voice flat. But – it is not her fault, either, that he has no Falls. That he has no home.
Forcing a smile, however sharp-edged it is, he glances at the other mare as well, flicking an ear as she gently scolds the younger of the duo. It is certainly a better approach than his sharp words. They both seem to know his guide, and so he offers his own name. “I’m Rhonen. Originally of the Dazzling Waterfalls, and then out of Beqanna, but now I live here. I guess.”
"It is nice to meet you Rhonen. My name is Eiria," the champagne mare introduced herself. "And my companion here is Zhenga," she motions to the roan, "who has also seem to have forgotten she should not stick her nose where it doesn't belong."
The mare looked at her friend distastefully, showing she truly was disappointed with how Zhenga had handled the situation when she spotted Rhonen and Karaugh. She should've left them alone, but nooooo, she just had to go and ruin things because she couldn't deny her own curiosity.
Someday such a trait would get that young mare in serious trouble.
"I do apologize for intruding; it seems we've stumbled upon a situation we shouldn't have come upon. Though I must admit, Dazzling Waterfalls, it sounds wonderful. My friend and I, we came from a place known as the Falls. It was part of Beqanna, before the land was changed. Many of our other friends have left, but some remained, and the kingdom is holding steady under Djinni, it's leader. Have you had a chance to meet her yet?" Eiria asked.
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