"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
How refreshing, she had last been in beqanna some time ago. Here and there, whenever she could find time with Chemdog, although the herd has been disbanded since and she left beqanna only coming back here and there. But today she was curious and returned, she lingered in the common lands for a while, listening to the whispers of the others. She heard of Sylva, and she heard of Loess apparently the two 'evil' kingdoms interesting. She had to see these kingdoms for herself, she could not deal with the happy go lucky living in there own world kingdoms. No, Sabe needed a rough around the edges, non cookie cutter kingdom.
She walks into what she believes to be Sylva, a whinny escapes her maw Oh Sylvans, do show yourself. She demands, a flick of her tail irritated with the flies that pester her. She lingers further into the kingdom, she was never one for rules, or waiting. She was a bitch herself and she did not fear others easily.
There was something new stirring in the shadows of her forest. Slithering silently through the darkness of her beloved shadows, the Demon Queen kept her fear aura tightly against her. Though her recent changes were still developing, she had felt herself growing in confidence with every passing day. Her eight pointer crown of horns were fully formed a top her head, arching backwards and twisting violently. The leathery wings upon her back still lacked the strength to carry her but she sensed that would come soon enough.
Edging nearer to the unfamiliar figure she sent red glowing fingers of light to tickle the lone figure of a mare. Patiently Astarael lingered just out of the mare's sight, feeding on the fear her aura pulled from the depths of her otherwise self-assured physique. Astarael listened to the stranger's voice as it called out, almost mockingly as she challenged the forest dwellers to meet her there. Chuckling, the queen stepped forward, revealing herself in all her demonic glory.
"Be careful what you wish for, sweetling," she hissed, her voice seething with the promise of all that the strange made had been in search of.
It was no surprise that when Sabe spoke another approached hostile. The mare spat her words, be careful what you wish for she announced, although Sabe could only chuckle. She did not fear her, she did not fear anyone or anything, and she surely did not plan on starting now. And why is that? Is there something else I should be wishing for? She glanced over the ebony mare with wings atop her back. A grin curled on her lips, she eyed the mare up and down.
Sabe remembers a time when Chemdogs herd was full of mares, when he chose that bitch over Sabe. She did not take it well, and she challenged the mare until the herd was disbanded, she did not play nice but did everyone play nice in the baddest kingdom of all? What is your name? She snorted the demand, that is no way to greet a potential recruit now is it? her gaze leaves the ebony mare and flicks to the surrounding forest. It was shadowed by all the trees, a similar setting to her previous home, this kingdom would do just fine. She flicks her gaze back to the stranger, awaiting a response.
The mare was arrogant. Astarael did not react to the dun horse’s coarse chuckle, instead one brow rose to mark her amusement. The mare lacked a respect for the darkness that pulsed just beyond the place where they stood. Vain ambition dripped off the golden coat of the newcomer, telling a story that the Demon Queen was not quite sure she liked. Astarael listened with half of her interest invested as she allowed the mare to make her assumptions. The horned mare felt her fear aura as it clung to the stranger hungrily. Demands and interrogations, the mare thought herself deserving of a place among them and, yet, Astarael did not truly believe that she knew the true depths of their intentions. Still, she had wandered into their clutches and wished to know more about them. The she-demon would be glad to oblige.
Astarael ignored the would-be Sylvan’s question, though it seemed to be the only way the dun knew how to speak. She spoke of names and recruitment only to prove just how little she knew of the dark forest.
“Recruit?” Astarael barked, hating the taste of the word as it fell past her lips. “We do not recruit within these borders. You are either a part of the darkness,” the nearly black mare cast a judgmental look upon the dun. “Or you’re not.”
And anyone who does not serve the shadows shall feed it.
When she had first arrived within the fold of Sylva she hadn’t sought Mortem’s permission to stay. She’d demanded it and he saw the hunger and hate that boiled deep within her. It had not even been a question upon his lips as she’d secured her place beside him.
“I am Astarael, Queen of this land,” she allotted. “So tell me, do you serve the darkness or do you serve yourself?”
