"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
With the turn of the sun brought cooler weather and changing leaves – with it, it also brought mischief.
Deep within the silent forest, where the coolness of the autumn air is still and unwavering, there is movement. Nothing is seen except for a twitch of tail, full and white, bouncing quickly through the underbrush. Dark, slender paws thrum quietly against the dirt, barely touching the forest floor for more than a second. The smallish figure darts gracefully, her movement lithe and quick with each bound. Her fur is a brilliant reddish orange beneath the speckles of sunlight that shine through the open branches of the tall trees, the brilliant white of her underbelly flashing as she runs. Her fast moving body kicks up dust that catches the light, sparkling like gold in the autumnal world around her.
Finally she halts, her ribcage expanding and tightening with her quickened breaths. A single paw is curled as if she is going to take another step, her black nose twitching as she inhales the scents and smells around her – scents that she had never smelled before in her equine form. She flicks her tail, her blazing and fiery red eyes peering out into the darkness of the forest. She is expecting Crevan - the behemoth of a wolf that she could confidently say is her only companion. It is normal for him to hide within the shadows and attempt to catch her off her guard, and sometimes even fight with the vulpine despite her small stature compared to his own. It taught her resilience and gave her strength, so when the sudden sound of another approaching catches her trained ears, she is ready for a battle.
Ears, brilliantly orange and white, flick backwards as her dark lips peel back to reveal her fangs, small and delicate but incredibly sharp, while the fur on her back begins to bristle. She crouches low, swishing her now-bushy tail back and forth behind her in agitation.
“Show yourself,” the little red fox snarls with the fierce demand, her eyes searching through the trees for the figure she knows has been watching her.
04-17-2018, 07:51 PM (This post was last modified: 04-17-2018, 07:53 PM by Jesper.)
Jesper swore to return to the Forest, whenever possible. The ebony equine found comfort amongst the looming coniferous trees. Their trunks are aligned randomly and, create a maze of paths beneath their protective canopy. Today, he navigates through the shadows with ease. Unshod hooves leave u-shaped prints in the soft earth, which he knew would soon be covered in fallen leaves and, pine needles. Nasal caverns draw in the crisp autumn air to allow olfactory sense to filter through the aromas around him. Attention catches a unique fragrance and, without hesitation, muscled haunches propel stallion towards the captivating scent. Bronze-tipped lobes swivel frantically to scan for any sounds betraying the location of the bearer but, nothing could be deciphered over male’s own footfalls.
It was then that a rustle of the ground cover caught Jesper’s light blue gaze. Quad pillars align into a halt as orbs survey the landscape and, finally, land upon the flicker of white amongst the dark green. Light-boned steed remains still while glossy pools visually stalk the strange creature. It moved with grace and lightness, but with a bounce that seems unnecessarily jaunty. Abruptly, it stops moving. Jesper holds his breath as if his inhales and exhales alerted the other to his lurking presence. As her voice permeates the stiff silence, stallion allows his lungs to push the captive air from his chassis. Busted. Cautiously, jet-black male steps forward through the shadows. Light blue gaze curiously notes her odd features. A small, square nose caps a narrow proboscis with beady eyes piercing into the shadows. Dark-tipped triangular lobes nestle atop canine skull. Thick russet pelt covers petite figure down to underside (which is strikingly colorless) and, lower limbs, which bear soot-hued stockings. Gaze slowly returns to her head where a sharply pointed tooth flashes from beneath dark-lined lips and, causes Jesper to hesitate. All of a sudden, he worries that he is walking into a trap. Poll lowers and, bronze-tipped ears fall back from their alert post atop cranium. One more step bring sleek raven pelt into the sunray cascading through the canopy to the forest floor.
@[Merida]
You have permission to attack him if Merida would like, radar
Her black-lined lips curl menacingly (though only a fox, she has the ferocity of the wolf that is her only friend), growling with warning as her tail twitches behind her, crouching lower as her fire-red eyes scan the darkness, ready to attack whatever dared to show itself. Though the thickness of her red and brown fur, splashed with white, hides all traces of scarring or fighting, her horse-form is littered with them - from mock battles with Crevan or from setting her eyes on much larger prey than herself. She is ready to take on whatever lies within the shadows, hackles rising on her neck to make herself appear more threatening.
As he emerges from the canopy of shadow, Merida’s eyes flash to the dark equine that appears. She holds her position, her haunches quivering as they await her command to spring. She stares at him a moment, snarling, before her black nostrils open in a soft snort of amusement and her muscles relax. She stands now, fully erect, her ears flipping lazily to the side - he is not a threat, nor is he dinner. He is simply a horse, which Merida tries to convince herself she isn’t. She wonders if he thinks she is a true fox - without a horse soul living on the inside. She tilts her head slightly, fire-red eyes narrowing slightly.
He is cautious in his steps, as if wondering if she would actually attack him. She flicks her tail at the thought, wondering now if she should have done it anyways. Crevan would have enjoyed the retelling of the story later, or perhaps he would show up within the shadow and have attempted to take him down with her.
The sun turns across the sky as the early afternoon turns to dusk. She can hear the cicadas begin their nightly song within the bellows of the forest, but she does not turn her ears towards them. The fox sits on her haunches, curling her bushy tail around her feet and tapping the white tip against brown-black paws. Her chest is stark against her red coloring, her fiery gaze set on him micheviously.
“It’s getting dark,” she purrs to the tall stranger, her voice burning as it leaves the black-lines of her lips.
The ebony stallion emits a soft exhale as the copper canine lowers her guard. Jesper was not aware that he had been holding his breath; however, when the ruby-eyed creature relaxes, he feels the tension escape his chassis. He allows his light blue gaze to focus upon her narrow profile. The onyx male, enthralled by her unique features, attempts to study her compact form. She, too, keeps a close watch on him. It’s getting dark, she purrs. Bronze-tipped lobes process her words with curiosity. The words themselves are simple. However, the stallion is baffled as to how he can hear her – understand her. Jesper had met countless creatures that are not equine and, each one had its own language. The parrots of Ischia sang and twittered; the rodents of the Forest squeal and scurry; and, the wolves and bears howl and growl. But, he had never once been able to converse with one of them.
While this is Jesper’s first encounter with a creature like her, he had no reason to think she would be any different. Perhaps, she isn't quite what she seems. Ah, the magic of Beqanna. Cranium tilts in response to her smooth voice before curious steed pushes himself forward a couple of steps. Left hind then crosses over right hind as male pivots around his forelimbs to better position himself. Normally loquacious steed finds his voice though, only offers a few words. “I do not fear the dark. My name is Jesper, by the way.”
Aquamarine irises soften as they focus upon the petite canine’s form. Jesper’s gaze starts at the ground and, follows her thick, white-tipped tail. The bushy appendage wraps around her dainty front paws, which are soot in hue, nearly up to her elbows. From there, a rich auburn hue stains the dense fur of her shoulder, nape, torso and, haunches. In stark contrast, a smoky white colors her breast and, underside. The crisp evening breeze rustles her dense fur and, Jesper finds himself entranced by her slender figure. Yet, just moments ago, she was a fierce sight to behold. With her fangs now covered by her plush lips, her face portrays an expression of mischief.
Glossy orbs shift from her fiery gaze to her resting posture on her haunches. Although, the male had the four limbs like the female, Jesper had never considered sitting as she is. Muscular nape curves to swing whiskered muzzle around as raven steed assesses if he were capable of assuming this position. He had done so once before, in the River, while helping his sister. Soft snort escapes flared nostrils as steed decides to try – not as a mock but, rather, she looked so comfortable.
Male attempts to shift weight back onto his buttocks slowly; however, gravity takes control. Mass begins to fall to the earth and, rump soon meets the damp ground. For a split second, onyx male appears to sit but, the equine does not stop there. Spine becomes perpendicular to the terrain before gravity continues to pull him over. Limbs flail ungracefully into the air as right scapula meets the soil with a solid thump. Next, crest presses into the cool earth followed by right side of mandible. Embarrassed huff exhales from salmon-lined nasal caverns before front hooves dig into the ground and, roll Jesper onto his underside. Once in a more dignified, equine position, black bronc offers a hearty laugh at his ridiculous attempt. He could only hope that the minx saw his attempt as one driven by admiration and, not mockery. Alas, he allows his laughter to soften until only a goofy smile remains upon his lips.
The fox’s tail bushes up slightly, her ears flipping back with amusement and a laugh in her throat. It almost sounds like a bark as her lips part to reveal her teeth, a mischievous smile on her two-toned snout. “You should,” she replies, and though there is a coyness in her voice, there is a seriousness in the flaming-red of her eyes that lets him know she is not kidding. His bright blue eyes fixates on her (reminding her of the past, of a dark raven with a hauntingly icy gaze, of promises unkept and broken), and feeling uncomfortable beneath his stare, she leaps up nimbly onto all fours once again.
He offers her a name - Jesper - and though the name means nothing to her, Merida is aware how important a name truly can be. She keeps it in her mind, lifting her snout slightly to inhale with quick, short breaths as she tastes the air around him. He is of the forest - damp and earthy and musky - and because it is familiar to her, she relaxes slightly as he continues to stride forward towards her. He is almost inspecting her the way he crawls cautiously towards her, and her mouth snaps shut as her nose begins to wrinkle - she still disliked his unfamiliar stare, though she is sure he is merely curious as to why he is able to understand the words of a fox.
The stallion begins to move in a strange way, and warily Merida watches him with a slight ripple of her lips in warning. A quick stamp of his forelegs could easily snap her spine. But his intentions are completely innocent, shown by the way he attempts to sit on his haunches like she had been only moments before. He is unable to do so, and the weight of his bulk causes him to thud dully into the pine-needle encrusted floor beneath them, which causes her to scitter away a leap or two. A laugh leaves his lips as he positions himself as an equine would, a silly grin on the charcoal black of his lips.
There is a quirk of her eyebrow upwards as she realizes his failed attempt, and for a moment she merely stares at him with a narrowed gaze, unresponsive. She then moves, coming before him and lying down on the white of her underbelly, her forepaws stretched before her like a sphinx. “That is precisely the reason I remain in this form.” She lowers her head slightly, nipping at the air between them with her tiny teeth, drawing her head back with a quick snap. There is no laughter, but a amusing smile curls on the black-lines of her lips. “More graceful, more agile.”
The fox tilts her head, a huff of air leaving her closed lips - somewhat of a soft bark.
05-02-2018, 01:43 PM (This post was last modified: 05-02-2018, 02:12 PM by Jesper.)
Jesper resolves himself to remain on his underside after looking like a complete fool. Ebony steed is aware he is most vulnerable laying down and yet, on some level, he trusts the auburn minx would hear danger approaching long before it posed a threat. Hindlimbs tuck as close to chassis as possible in the event that steed needs to haul himself to his hooves. Forelimbs fold at the knee to balance stallion as he makes himself comfortable in order to study and listen to the canine. Aquamarine gaze softens as she lowers herself to the ground in front of him. Bronze-tipped lobes prick forwards to catch her words while glossy pools peer out from beneath bronze-highlighted tresses to match her ruby gaze.
That is precisely the reason I remain in this form. She had certainly ensnared his curiosity now. "This form?" He pauses as he digests his own thoughts. "You mean, you are able to choose what you look like? Were you born with this gift? Or, was it bestowed upon you later in life? What is your alternate being?" He could suppose that the answer to his last question is: equine. This would certainly explain the lack of a language barrier. As for how long she had been blessed with this talent, he guesses it had been the better half of her life as she seems completely comfortable in this skin. Jesper nods at her next words. She is definitely more graceful and, more agile than I. Ceil blue orbs catch a glisten of her pointed fangs as she snaps at the air. Her antics simply mesmerize the ebony equine and, he offers a smirk in response to her amused smile. "Thank you for your stimulating company, Merida. I am very much a fan of your style. Hopefully, with some practice, I will master the 'sit'."
The onyx stallion felt a connection with this canine. So, Jesper maintains his relatively relaxed posture before the vixen, curious to learn as much about her as possible.
Her comment alluding to her ability, springs up a well of questions from the man before her. She smiles micheviously, her black-lined lips upturning on her white and red mouth, her flaming eyes sparkling. He settles onto the damp ground of the forest, comfortable sitting before the fox. Her tail flicks idly behind her every so often, a smooth and sweeping motion with the softness of the sound echoing in the silent forest. “I was born an equine,” she states casually, her white chest expanding as she inhales deeply, and then exhales in a quick snort. It is a form she rarely takes anymore, being with Crevan so long, though she it is still easy for her to shift to the onyx mare with red embers freckling her haunches and flaming tendrils of wild, unruly hair. Her life before the fox had been mundane, however, and she wandered listlessly throughout Beqanna. She had always been rather solitary, and though she does not know when or how, the gift of the fox spirit had been graciously bestowed on her. It only further encourages her recluse personality, diving into the depths of shadowy forests and listening only to the instincts that came with the vulpine form.
Merida does not go into all the details of this - she does not share much of her personal life with anyone, even her wolf-friend (who is her only friend at the moment). “There is the equine and there is the fox.” Her voice is simple, and a quick shrug of her shoulders show how much she cares for the equine side of her. Sometimes, though, her horse spirit begs for company - which is why she is sitting before Jesper now, instead of disappearing into the denseness of the winter-laden woods around them.
She is enjoying the gushing amount of compliments coming from the stallion, and with a generously vain expression, the foxes ears tip back slightly with pride, a grin pulling away her lips to reveal shining canines. Her tail thumps pleasantly, showing her delight. “It is hard for a horse to master much of anything,” she tells him honestly with a tip of her black snout upwards. “But perhaps you will be gifted just as I have been. Then, I can teach you.”
The situation seems all too familiar, though the roles are now reversed. She had learned everything from the wolf when she had first been given her new ability, and now she is here offering the same thing to Jesper - even though he does not yet have a second skin. She used to be nothing - plain and without defenses - but now she is something greater, something wonderful. She is haughty as she looks down on those without the abilities to shed their horse-skin, knowing that the freedom she has in her shifting abilities is far greater than any other ability a horse could possibly have.
Time seems to stand still for the ebony equine. From the moment the last words leave his lips, Jesper begins some measure of counting the length of silence between them. Bronze-tipped ears face forwards, ever ready to catch her response and funnel the words into cranium. In anticipation, chassis leans towards the vixen (as best as is possible laying down), eager for her to divulge more. Nostrils flutter casually as stallion maintains a calm rate of respiration. Aquamarine orbs hold a soft but, steady gaze with her ruby eyes. I was born an equine. Sigh escapes nasal caverns as she confirms his suspicion. All at once, relief regarding his ability to understand her is replaced with wonder and interest in the world of Beqanna. How many among him could willingly change forms as Merida does? How many other forms could an equine shift into? How is the transition? What is necessary to make the transition? Could one feel the presence of the alternative form while in the other form? His mind races with curiosity and, Jesper is caught lying there, frozen as he attempts to process this.
There is the equine and there is the fox. Her next words bring him back around and, as his ceil blue gaze begins to focus on her auburn and alabaster pelt, he realizes he let his musings take over. Soft but, sheepish, smile pulls at corners of mouth and, male wills hock-kisser to flick once or, twice, to demonstrate that he is conscious. Her comment regarding horses inability to master anything catches him slightly unaware; however, after a few moments of thought, Jesper finds the words. "I have not been a horse long enough to attest to that statement." He offers a wider smile to match her one full of fangs and, a pathetic chuckle at his own words. He then continues in a light-hearted tone. "I consider myself a master of finding and eating grasses and, also, of making friends. I am quite good at both though, perhaps those skills are not attributed to being equine."
He knew that neither of these warrant a claim to fame but, he took pride in being an equine. Of course, he did not know any other way. Her offer to be his teacher, if ever he adopts the ability to shift into a - what did she call herself? Oh right, - fox, seem genuine. All onyx steed can do in response is offer a warm smile out of appreciation. He could not be sure but, it seemed to him as though her gesture sparked from some part of her past. Intrigue sets in though, Jesper refrains from prodding. Instead, he channels their conversation into a safer direction. "Would you be so kind as to start my teachings now? What does a fox do?
He is enraptured with her. It isn’t something that Merida is used to seeing - even Crevan does not show her such attention (she doesn’t with him either, for that’s not how their friendship works), so she is quietly amused by the situation she has found herself in. Her red eyes sparkle mischievously, a look of mirth on her slender snout as a prim smile pulls at her black-lined lips. His words causes her to laugh - a stifled little bark from her closed mouth. He is witty, she realizes as he jokes with her about all the things horses do. Even as he lists them out for her, though, she cannot find any reason to prefer her horse form over the one she is currently in. With a press of her chin against the whiteness of her breast, Merida stretches out a charcoal-tipped paw and playfully scrambles at the rustling of leaves between them, brought to life by the autumn’s cold wind.
“If they are,” she mulls almost boredly as she comments on the attributes that may or may not be associated with equine, “it is precisely why I am not one. I do not make friends.” She pauses, her fiery gaze snapping to his icy blue one as if challenging him to argue with her. They are not friends, however it might appear as they bask on the forest floor together, and she is sure that he will understand this when they soon depart. The late afternoon sun will soon call her to burrow in for the night, but before that she must fill her belly - and she hopes that the wolf has a meal waiting for her (she would have to fight for her scrap, of course, but she is plenty fine with that).
He pries even more, and she realizes that instead of informing him, that she has now opened him up to a world of new possibilities and endless questions. Her ears flick backwards at the realization, that perhaps she has spent to long speaking with an equine and should take her leave - cut him off and dart into the blackness of the forest with the tip of her white tail being the last thing he would see. Her instincts tell her to run, before a sort of relationship or friendship ensues, to stop yapping about herself and her secrets. He already knew her name, and her other form.
He already knows too much.
“No,” she says simply, lifting herself from the forest floor with a fluid movement of her legs. “If you want to learn what a fox does, there is no amount that I could tell you that would make it understandable.” She pauses, eye to eye with the stallion now that she is standing. “You must become a fox. Then I can help you.”
With that, the vulpine flicks her tail once before leaping past him in an agile bound, the sound of her paws loosely thumping on the cold ground until she was seen and heard no more.
@[Jesper] I wanted to wrap this up now that he is in Sylva <3
Jesper