"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 can taste the fear, it's written on my lips, woke up with an omen tatted on my wrist
Cloudless and orange beneath the setting sun, Beqanna's dusky sky is the object of Takhar's fixation as his obsidian paws pull him across the playground. The panther cub stalks, joints carrying him close to the soft loam as he nearly slithers over the grassy loam, and his gold-flecked eyes finally break contact with the heavens to sweep through the fading light of the meadow. The playground is empty, the children presumably called home for dinner by their mothers, and Takhar conveniently forgets that he and his friends have snuck away from their own guardians for the evening. A low growl escapes the boy's ajar maw, canine teeth just barely peeking from beneath the darkness of his whiskered lips as he hunts for Dante and Gypsey.
He can smell them on the air, the familiar scents of the windmaker and the kelpie, but they are nowhere to be seen. Yet. Takhar grumbles under his breath before coming to a halt, planting his hindquarters against the cool earth and flicking the tip of his tail, predatory and agitated, as his amber eyes continue to explore the widely spaced trees and gently-sweeping creek before him.
He's quick to grow bored (perhaps a trait passed down from his absentee mother, as Takhar has never known his father to be an impatient creature) and is soon on his dark paws again, extending his claws to dig absent-mindedly into the dirt as he moves. His ebony coat gleams beneath the fading sunlight and he knows that it will not be long before he blends entirely into the darkness, ever the predator, even when only playing with his friends. Takhar bounds his small panther body onto a tree that has snapped at the middle, still half secured to the remaining trunk that reaches defiantly towards the pastel sky, his claws digging into the bark as he ascends the wooden slope towards the sky.
"About fucking time," he mutters the expletive with amusement, still perched on his new throne when Dante and Gypsey find him, "Usually my dad is the most difficult one to get away from. Did you get lost on the way?" Takhar adjusts, his claws ripping fragments of bark from the fallen tree as his long tail works to balance his weight and his amber eyes look between the pair, curious of their plans for the evening.
Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night, wouldn't you love to love her?
In her mind, her father was always the hero. Countless times she'd heard the stories since her birth, how her parents had met and fell in love, had screwed under the full moon until they had conceived her. A surprise, she'd been told, the old red wytch had never thought she'd have any foals. Yet here little Gypsey was. Now when she thinks of the tale, she envisions her Pa whisking her Mama away, the story-teller ever the damsel in distress. Canaan had fought wolves, weather, dragons, all to be with her mother. Gypsey absolutely adored him. This admiration almost made her hesitate when it came to stealing away from Jah-Lilah to meet the boys tonight. Almost.
Closing her eyes and bidding the wind bring her their scents, she finds what she's looking for and her lids snap open. Picking up the trail of Amet's son @[Takhar] easily, (he was wearing that cat suit he so desperately loved) she crept east toward the playground. When she was certain she was far enough from where her parents had bedded down for the evening, she bolted. Her dark legs carry her over the grass easily, and she attempts to shift the wind to give her a boost. Stride lengthening, she eats up the ground. Her head held high, her creamy mane streaming out behind her, she is free. Gypsey has no idea how good she has it.
After plunging through the river, she slows to a canter, treading carefully as she approaches the playground. Spying Takhar lounging on a broken tree branch, she attempts to stalk him like prey. With an obnoxious yell she leaps behind him, failing miserably at scaring him, as usual. Breathless and laughing, she rolls her green eyes as he scolds her for being late. He should know by now she requires and grand entrance wherever she goes! Snorting, she responds.
"Pshht whatever. You know my mama is on me like flies on shit at all times, sometimes I can't even fucking breath. Plus, I didn't want to wake my Pa." Looking around, scrawny tail held high in excitement and anticipation, she turns back to Tak. "Where's @[Dante]? He should have been here by now too."
Takes to the sky like a bird in flight, who will be her lover?
