"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
06-01-2019, 08:42 AM (This post was last modified: 06-01-2019, 08:46 AM by Let.)
Winter is starting to give up its tight grip and hibernating creatures are crawling out into the warm spring sun. The women, mother and daughter, stand on the crest of a small hill in the corner of this familiar old place, the sunrise at their backs. It took little discussion between them to know they had to come, and together of course, ever since the Plague it seems that Let will not be without her mother. Kota is not a coddling mother, rather unceremonious about motherhood on the surface really – but deep down, in the chasms of her dark little cracked heart, she would never deny anything to her only child. They look more like sisters, their matching serrated markings only separate in placement and color, their builds very similar. They are stout, muscular, almost square-ish and perfectly proportionate. By human standards, which is irrelevant, they have beautiful conformation. The daughter is just slightly shorter, but with distance between them and prying eyes, it is not obvious.
“I hate this place.” Let’s voice breathes softly between her lips for her mother to pick it up, a smirk pulling at the mother’s lips. “Me too.” Kota moves passed her daughter’s teal spackled shoulder to allow her eyes to drift over the vastness of the open field and its pockets of gathering bodies. It is a quiet announcement of their arrival.
There is no better distraction from grief than to fill his time with anything else. Pteron is only partially aware that he does this, but even had he known he could consider it a solid choice. There is no harm in keeping busy, and there is much for a young kingdom man to occupy himself with in this newly healthy Beqanna. Patrolling the borders, mocking with fellow warriors, visiting foreign lands and recruiting. The latter seems most appealing on this spring day, and so Pteron has left his limestone nest for a day-long venture to the Field.
The piebald pegasus makes a striking figure on the horizon with his tricolor hide and bright wings (even tucked up to his sides as they are now). This is not his intention though, and so he soon descends to the busier part of the open field, content to engage in idle conversation with strangers as they pass by. He is comfortable here, sociable and charismatic, and his mind is soon filled with the stories of others rather than his own. It is one of these stories that alerts him to the presence of the pair of overos; a palomino mare telling him that she’d come from that direction when she’d arrived in Beqanna and Pteron following her gesture to the place where the black mare has just stepped a little ahead of the teal.
Though he does his best to stay engaged in the conversation with the palomino in front of him, the young stallion’s gaze frequently drifts back to the pair through the entire course of it. The golden mare finally leaves with a roan stallion who’d given a more convincing pitch than Pteron (who was unable to promise endless summer fruit and a foal each spring that it seems she’d wanted), and leaves Pteron free to seek out the two white-marked mares.
“Hello,” he says with a polite nod of his head. Pteron’s olive green eyes flick from one to the other, polite but curious, and he adds. “I’m Pteron, from Loess.” The addition of his home is done without thought, a standard inclusion during conversation in this place. Though he has little information to work with, the pegasus is fairly sure that these two are here to find a home rather than to offer one.
The summers heat had returned and so had he almost a year later to the same place Magnus had first found him. The place Magnus had asked him to come with him to Tephra and to serve the land there mentioned.
Since the war between Tephra and Loess he had been searching for lost Tephrans to take back home with him, she was flourishing once again. The havoc the Loessians attempted to bring upon Tephra had not won in destroying the lands, only the lives of the living. On both sides.
Today the black stallion had stopped to graze among the field in hope that he would maybe find a few wayward Tephrans. His ears swiveled and turned attentively to the groups of others that stood near by hoping to catch word of his homeland.
Instead they landed on a word that brought a shiver down his spine. His face snapped in the direction of the word Loess, his midnight blue eyes scanning a small trio a few yards off. Two mares and a stallion he had never seen before, with his recent travels he had pinned alot of faces to memory.
The mares held his attention for only a moment, long enough for him to not forget them in the future, but his attention was for the stallion who announced his home as Loess. Jakubs ears threatened to pin back for only a second as his hatred for the land had a grip on him, much like the claw like burns that patterned his back. The magma from that night leaving its mark so he would not forget where he came from.
Jakub pushed the feeling of despise down as a calm collected facade took its place and he began to close the distance between himself and the others. As he got closer the stallions appearance reminded him oddly of the other stallion he has battled on Tephrans lands that night, but he placed that thought away to ponder later.
He eyed the stallion for a moment and gave a small nod as his attention returned to the mares while speaking to all. " Hello, I don't believe we've met. My name is Jakub, what brings you to the field today?" his gaze passed between the members of the gathered group.
JAKUB
and out he came, holding his brothers heel
@[Let]
@[Pteron]
Don't mind Jakub he's just here to possibly ruffle some feathers.
Let’s golden eyes were elsewhere when her mother’s gaze found the roan’s. Kota did not let her eyes linger but plucked them away quickly to scan the rest of the Field, returning soon after. Each time she did, his eyes found hers and they briefly level before flicking away again. This repeats itself a cordial amount of times before the stallion starts to approach and this time Kota’s pale eyes do not leave him.
His approaching footsteps bring the teal marked girl’s attention to him, eyes and ears alert. She steps up to stand beside her mother, shoulder to shoulder. “Hello,” the mother responds first, the daughter just nods and looks him over rather impolitely. She seems to let the name of his home sink in slowly; internally she is drawing up memories of her visits, of past leaders that are sure to be gone now. The mother and daughter make quick eye contact, but before Kota can open her mouth, another stallion starts his approach.
The stallion’s introduction seemed as bland as any other, what one would expect, almost forced – but that it what recruiting is, Kota reminds herself, a fuckin’ song and dance. She did not like the taste of it. It was not quite clear what was happening, as he remained rather casual, but something did not feel right. “I’ll give you a guess.” Her eyes roll. What does he think? What is anyone here for? To recruit, or be recruited, is the most obvious of answers.
06-02-2019, 11:43 AM (This post was last modified: 06-03-2019, 12:47 PM by kahzie.)
They make no attempt to leave as he approaches, and Pteron stands quietly as the teal mare steps even with the black and looks him over. There is no hiding what he is, though Pteron does make his left hind leg invisible (perhaps just before she sees it). It’s something that amuses him, though when someone unexpected arrives Pteron is briefly grateful that the invisible leg is on his opposite side. Perhaps Jakub will not notice. Beyond a missing leg, Pteron is remarkable only for his color and wings.
There is nothing familiar about the black stallion that approaches, but Pteron’s eyes flick across the recent-looking scars that mar the stallion’s dark hide. The pegasus is a poor judge of the timing of injuries, but he knows enough to wonder if they might be war wounds. For an instant his olive eyes narrow. Not in dislike, but it might look quite like it. Instead, he is trying to place the raven stallion, piecing together what he can. The man does not smell of any land Pteron has visited, but he is surely from Beqanna, Pteron thinks. He could have been on either side if those injuries were from battle in Tephra, perhaps he is a Pangean, Nerinian, or Taigan. Maybe he is from one of the islands, Pteron suddenly thinks, and the thought of hearing more about them brightens his pale face with interest.
“Conversation.” Pteron answers truthfully, before adding with a quick smile: “And hope that it might lead to a recruit.”
The older mare does not appear to be impressed by the black stallion’s question, but Pteron is not willing to let the conversation be soured so quickly. Having already answered himself, he speaks after Kota, asking: “Do we get a prize if we guess correctly?” with a curious raise of his striped brow, amusement sparkling in his olive gaze.
The black and white mare did not seemed to enthused by Jakub' and Pteron's introduction, it didn't bother him though. He had not came to the meadow today to make recruits, or friends. These mares did not smell of Tephra so his mild interest in them was mutual.
However, the other stallion seemed to be trying to stay on her good side it seemed. Recruiting for Loess? Maybe they had lost as many as Tephra. Though Jakub was set on protecting the innocent no matter where their allegiance stood, he couldn't help but hope they had lost some of those who had attempted to tear each other apart no matter who they hurt.
Jakub eyed the black mare, his mild interest shining in the dark blues of his eyes. "I'm here to find friends that may be lost" being as casual as he could. They did not need to know his true job.
His gaze flicked to the teal marked mare, giving a slight nod of the head. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a tad curious to see what proposal he has to offer you in Loess" he added towards the black and white mare.
Kota laughs, she did not really mean for it to slip by but she could not help. She didn’t bother to say what she thought, which was that there are many places to have a conversation. She smirks when he finishes the sentence with an obvious detail she had already picked out – she had to give him credit for his nonchalant honesty, however. She let her blue eyes stay with him for a bit longer than the black stallion, but Let addressed the other man with a softer expression than her mother’s (but not by much).
The teal girl with wild sun-gold eyes was oddly fascinated by the dark stallion and was about to open her mouth to ask about what he meant by lost friends. Her mother found his presence irritating, for now, and pegged him for a serpent. She kept it to herself though, and when he said his last comment both mares flicked their eyes to the black stallion and back to the conversationalist. Have they wandered into a squabble of some kind? They looked on, almost expectant of the two stallions to address just what the fuck he was referring to. “So…you know each other?” The mother questions them both
“We’ve not met.” Pteron says in response to Kota’s query, but his olive eyes do not leave Jakub. He cannot be certain, but there is almost enough evidence that the dark haired stallion is a Tephran. The young pegasus knows that some of the residents of the jungle had ran from the fires and been lost to Beqanna; Father had said as much. The Loessian contingent had not followed those that fled, knowing that their true ire was deserved by those that remained to fight. They deserved the fire and more, and Pteron has been assured that they will be served it in time.
He’s sworn it himself to the little grave where his baby brother lies, a loss for his family and kingdom that no Field recruit will ever fill.
Still, he knows better than to pick a fight in the Feild, so rather than name Jakub as a child-murderer, he instead projects happiness into his own mind and exhales the breath he has been holding in a quiet sigh that he knows is not entirely fitting to the situation.
“I could propose something in Loess,” he tells the pair of mares, “or in the Taiga if you’d prefer a home in the woods rather than one in the hills.”
Jakub had stood half listening, half watching other groups of horses for Tephrans, and half watching the pair of mares. The black tovero asks if they know each other and Pteron answers for the both of them. In fact they have not met but their lands have.
He doesn't bother to answer only giving a slight nod in aggreance with the stallion's comment. His eyes linger on the teal mare for a moment, his mouth qwirking up on one side. She seemed more agreeable then the motherly mare.
No sooner did Jakub's eyes and a single ear linger away to a nearby group did Pteron say something that pulled his attention slowly to the conversation at hand. His brow crinkled slightly Taiga? Why are you recruiting for Taiga AND Loess? he said keeping his tone level and seeming only mildly interested in Pteron's reply, even though he was anything but.
His memory trailed back to the kind, golden protector, Aten, who had offered to help Jakub in his task of finding wayward Tephrans. What the hell kind of business does Loess have in Taiga, he thought to himself.
The air tightens when Pteron’s olive eyes settle on the dark stallion, the mare’s gazes follow but Kota’s only linger for a second before making their way back. “Loess..hm?.” the mother’s silky voice chews it gently, humming afterward as if that might help her think. “But I do like the trees.” Her tone draws out as if the words are only thoughts let out of their cage, unrefined. Thinking aloud, if you will.
Kota has been here before, sandwiched between two recruiters who are not fans of one another. Let has not, but her mother’s confidence spills easily over to her and she just looks on. There is space left for the dark stallion to respond, a predictable man would have told the women where he was from – but this guy, so far, was rather hard read (or so Let thought so). Jakub fills the space with a question for Pteron and Kota cannot help but scrunch her face in distaste. Really? her mind growls, but outwardly she just watches, moments from interjecting to announce her leave for Taiga.
