"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
Spring was late in coming, but at long last the ice was thawing. Everywhere the midnight stallion set foot, mud squelched. It was everywhere, and the melting snow fed it endlessly. For all that he knew mud clung to every surface, Tyr still managed to feel a brightening within him. It had been a hard winter, even within the bounds of the territory.
There was no muscle tone beneath the dark skin, all in all he was a sorry looking fellow. Still, the grass was growing, the plants broke the frosted surface of the land, and life returned to the world. He ate what he found, and slowly the weeks-long hunger eased in favour of satisfaction. Warmth seeped into his spine again, loosened the overwrought muscles of his body and dried the mud so that it flaked away.
He could breath again. Deep breathes and shallow ones and they all felt wonderful. The fresh crush of new grass beneath his feet was intoxicating. One morning it mingled with something new. New, but familiar. Lilies were blooming near the creek he'd come to rest by. They were a rich counterpoint to the burbling water, sweet and heady. Beautiful. His nostrils flared and trembled, intent on this new target. A few steps forward, the creek singing so close by his side. Then, victory! Velvet petals bumped into his nose, the scent filled him like a strong drink.
He knew what to do with these.
A delicate snip, a fumbling on the ground until the stems came beneath his lips. He hoped the blooms did not get too bruised in the pick up. One two three, and his mouth was full of flowers. Vivid orange, if he could have seen them. He knew exactly where they had to go.
It wasn't easy, fording the creek, climbing the bank on the other side. He held the stems high when his feet slipped, focused on keeping them safe. And he made it, a little damper than usual, but intact. The scent of the lilies was thick in his nose, and he had to pause to sort through and let other odors in. Other horses, other animals, they passed through here frequently. Water drew them in. But there, he caught it. It was faint, but there. A trail he could follow.
The earth was uneven. Puddles of water interspersed the rough roots and stones, but the trail was getting easier to follow. The path opened up, and he breathed a sigh of relief to feel the ground flatten. The light wind brought the scent he was looking for near, and strong.
He cleared his throat, suddenly uncertain. It had been a simple plan, nothing extravagant. But there were doubts. He hadn't seen her since winter set in, but it was too late now. If she hadn't seen him as he approached, she likely would have by now. His head dropped low, to place the flowers carefully down, to give him a moment to breath.
"I found these. They... well, they made me think of you. Thought you should have them. Lilies for Lilli." He grinned, then lifted his head to exhaled on a laugh. "Sorry, that was stupid... But I hope you like them. How have you been?" He asked, head casting around to try and find where she stood.
11-21-2019, 08:07 PM (This post was last modified: 11-21-2019, 08:09 PM by lilliana.)
Lilliana prefers the beach. She prefers the quiet and she tries to keep to herself as much as possible. The chestnut mare has spent her winter along the Taigan coastline and she has let herself become as much a part of the surf and the shadows as any mortal horse can. There is something about all the wild places on the wind that has been a comfort. Lilli likes to imagine all the places those breezes roll in from, what worlds and what lives they had touched.
What echoes do they carry with them on their constant journey forward? On the rocky coastline, Lilliana has reminded herself that the wind never stops. It slows, it might change course but the wind never truly stops. It can be a gentle whisper, a fierce gale but it is always moving and so she reminds herself of the same thing: keep moving.
She hadn't meant to come so further inland. The smell of the salt has faded and the scent of pine and evergreen permeates everything. The rocks seemed to melt away as the snow had, hard ground giving way to the softness of newly-thawed earth and the sweetness of fresh grass that had begun to spring up in patches where the sunlight could illuminate the strongest, where it could awaken what once had been dormant and lost.
Spring has long been her favorite season - she has always loved the way that the sun warms the world after a barren winter. She loves the way that the land can come alive, the way that it hums and sings after a long winter of silence.
Lilliana is in one of those between places, where the sunlight meets the shadow and she can't quite make her mind up where she wants to be. Back to her tempestuous shore or here, where the first blossoms are starting to break through the ground? There is a reminder that gnaws in the back of her mind that she should check in with Tyr and Smidge, to see what they had made of the Taigan winter.
And she promises herself that she will. Lilli has brought them here and so in her mind, she is accountable for their welfare.
She has done a poor job concerning it so far, she thinks. A whole winter hiding away.
It seems the Winds agreed with her because she turns her head to see the midnight form of Tyr coming around the trail, carrying.. flowers? Lilliana stands suspended for a moment, torn between wanting the comfort of the sound of crashing waves and being polite enough to address the approaching stallion. The latter wins out and Lilli has to swallow to clear her throat as she looked to grinning Tyr, "Thank you." She manages and then lowers her head, smelling the blooms that oddly put her in mind of Culloden.
The smell brings back a memory.
"My nephews used to bring me flowers," she murmurs as she brings her head back up. "One would bring me a bouquet while the other would scamper away." They had taught sweet-faced Kildare to do it in the end, the one they knew whose gummy smile she couldn't refuse while the twins would sneak away to whatever adventure they sought. And then she sighs, "Glad that winter is finally over. How have you been, Tyr?"
He worried for a moment that he had misjudged his nose, and the trail had run him wrong. Perhaps this was simply a place she had stopped in, and he was speaking to thin air. Or worse, an unfamiliar horse might be watching him and think he was simply crazy. Either way, it was a relief to hear her voice at last.
Her voice was as sweet as he remembered, but heavy with some unknown emotion. Sorry or worry, maybe. Weighty things that seemed wrong for such a lovely creature to be feeling. His smile dimmed a little, wanting to know the source of her melancholy but knowing it wasn't his place to pry. If she wanted to talk about flowers, well, then they could talk about flowers.
"They sound like great kids," he offered, amused by the idea of her bashful relations. A little piece of him also worried that perhaps he'd made a mistake in bringing the blooms to her. Was it a childish thing to do? Too late now though for second thoughts. Now he must pay attention to the moment they were living in.
His ears twisted in their usual manner, picking up the birdsong and the wind in the pines. The little catches in Lilli's breathing and the not too far off thunder of waves breaking on a beach. He'd know that sound anywhere. All this was stored in his mind for later reference.
"Can't say I'm sorry to see the cold go either. Winter's never been the easiest season for me..." He trailed off, not wanting to draw attention to his poor condition. He knew he looked rough, even if he couldn't see for himself. He searched for a change of subject, latching onto the sounds he had collected a moment ago.
"Is there a shoreline here?" He asked, feeling more certain as a whisp of salt air mingled with the scents of the flowers, and of Lilli. The salt tang made him a little nostalgic for the island, for his family. They held brine in their blood, and he'd be lying if he said the ocean didn't have its own kind of hold on him was well. Not in the same way, maybe, but it was exciting learn that the land he'd come to might connect them all the same.
11-29-2019, 11:53 PM (This post was last modified: 11-29-2019, 11:54 PM by lilliana.)
"They were heathens," comes a voice that starts years behind in her past before it steadily rings in the present. It is faint at first, barely a trickle above the nearby creek. And then she smiles because how can she not when she speaks of Tarian, Liam and Kildare? How could she not smile when she thinks of those boys that have brought so much joy and love into her life?
It can touch her even here, even when she stands here buried underneath the shade of Taiga's redwoods.
"But then," she adds with an impish flourish, "I was accused of being far too indulgent with them." Lilliana says this as an incredulity - as if she could ever be accused of being anything other than what she is and finishes with that familiar grin of hers - beaming laughter ready to break through the spring sunshine. But Lilliana doesn't laugh. Instead, she takes a moment to note the way that Tyr's ears prick forward, to the attentive way he listens to the very heart of the forest around them and she finds herself relieved that he has made it through these last frigid months in one piece (at least what she can see with her eyes). His dark blue coat is thicker than hers, a gift from his ancestors in the way that hers do not grace her with and other than a lack of muscle definition, he is no worse than the last time she has seen him.
She has to do better, she thinks.
She must do better, she insists.
Tyr seeks to change the subject but Lilliana doesn't excuse herself so quickly. "Forgive me, Tyr." Her voice is firm, unwavering in its insistence that she should have done better by the celestial stallion. "I should have spoken with you sooner. I hope that the winter here wasn't too harsh for you." Her first had been - what a rude awaking a Taigan winter had been after being more acclimated to climates that would have been far more suited to Tephra or Ischia. Even after three years here, she still bears a copper coat that is far too sleek and thin for these blustery winter breezes.
Another reminder of a life, of a history that couldn't be ignored.
"There is," she responds. "Taiga has a coast that reaches from Tephra to Nerine." And Lilli would know - she has walked those beaches, dreamed on those beaches about all the unknown places that those blustery sea breezes blow in from. She sends her wishes and her thoughts on the salt air like she does her stars. Somehow, perhaps some way, she likes to think that they might be heard by another soul that likes to listen for distant echoes on the edges of the wind.
Another airbender, another star-talker that might hear these things and speak her words out loud to someone who might understand.
"And there is a shorter span of shoreline to the east, towards Silver Cove," says the Diplomat. Tyr can have his pick of beaches - Lilli would show him all of them if it meant helping him find his own place within the Taiga. If he decided that he wanted to stay. Lilliana tilts her head, listening to that same birdsong as it balances against the pulse of the distant coast as it calls to her, "I could take you, if you'd like?"
It was wonderful to hear the lightening of her tone as they spoke, the way she radiated love for the ones she was close to. He smiled, then chuckled, as the gentle mare described her relations. Heathens, she called them, a term of endearment on her tongue.
They had not interacted much since the falling of winter on the land. Yet in the space of a brief greeting he was reminded why he had trusted her to bring him here. If she had been accused of over indulgence, it must be in testament to the heart that seemed to swell within her. For a moment he thought that she would laugh, and in that moment he realized he very badly wanted to know that sound.
The moment vanished though, the joy swallowed back. He was only left to wonder why for a moment, when her next words fell like stones at his feet. A frown creased his brow beneath the thick tangles of his forelock.
"Ah, Lilli..." He started, feeling a twinge of guilt at the regret in her voice. He should have cleaned up before seeking her out, made finall himself some kind of presentable. It had not been his intention to put the weight of his existence on her shoulders. "I made it through alright, don't you worry. Nothing a bit of good grass can't help. Only had one close call, and the fella ended up being more interested in harassing the next one who came along than running me off." He grinned half heartedly, knowing there had been more to that encounter than likely even he knew.
He had not touched her, not once since they'd met, but he longed to brush the worry from her mind. Instead he smiled with more warmth, and tossed his head gallantly. "I won't lie though; I wish you'd come to talk to me sooner too. Warm conversation goes a long way to soften the cold." Antares sank beneath the horizon in the winter months, hanging in the skies on the other side of the world for a few months. Conversation, warm or otherwise, was the one thing he found himself missing most when winter reared its brittle head.
He blinked at the confirmation that there was indeed ocean nearby. It touched everything, it seemed. In a way it was comforting to know that the water was never really gone. It was his connection to home and family no matter how far the night touched stallion wandered. Always, he would have salt water and stardust in his veins.
"I'd like that quite a bit." He agreed, pleased at the prospect. Not much a swimmer, that stallion still enjoyed spending time where the waves made an audible heartbeat for the world. It was easy to feel connected in such places, especially when one spent so much time alone. "Are you busy today? Or would there be a better time to spend a few hours showing a blind man the sights?" He asked, wincing at the awful joke.
12-05-2019, 10:06 PM (This post was last modified: 12-05-2019, 10:08 PM by lilliana.)
Lilliana gives one small, firm shake of her head. Tyr seeks to put her worries to rest, and she appreciates that he tries, she does. It doesn't stop the admonishments in her mind but the look she casts him is a grateful one. Still, as he said, he made it through alright. That was something to be thankful for when the winter here was trying enough. And there is a resilient spirit in Tyr, she thinks. A light that was entirely different than the one that Antares shares with him.
And then thought freezes as he says more.
"Somebody gave you trouble?" she asks, the words coming out much colder than she intended. In Taiga? There were troubles enough outside their borders, with Loess and Nerine both staking their claim. But inside? Perhaps it is because Lilliana has been forced from one home too many - perhaps it is because of creatures like Maverick and Frostbane and Ostere that forced them to be always moving - but the only solid thing she has is the ground beneath her hooves. In spite of everything else that has happened, Taiga has been the one consistency since the moment she arrived here and the thought that something has happened inside Taiga that ignites a spark.
"If you have any more problems," comes the saber-edged words, drawn and ready. Her voice is quiet and an octave lower than it usually is. "Find me."
What she will do, she doesn't yet know. But there is something within her that is so tired of this. She is so tired of the worry, of the anxiety that wondering about all these looming 'threats' and if they will actually amount to anything. Will they fade into the silence of history or will they actually bring about the drums of war? Lilliana, as frustrated as it makes her, has no control over the things that happen on Beqanna's grander stage. That is something far about her and Tyr - but within Taiga? Within Taiga, she might be able to make a difference.
She hopes, anyways.
It's what Lilliana always does. That hope that never seems to waver - that lights into an entirely different emotion now.
Her lean form is taut with that momentary anger. It isn't something that comes often but when it does, those blue eyes turn into shards of ice. That gentleness burns into a quiet ferocity - an ember that threatens to build into an inferno. There are more ideas that dawn, things that are being realized against the blazing edges of her mind. A quiet exhale - the only sign she gives to the fury (and helplessness) she feels - emits softly between the celestial stallion and chestnut mare.
Stop, she thinks.
She wanted a career in diplomacy. She had wanted something and so here she is, sliding further behind a wall of responsibility and concern. "East or west?" she chimes, eager to change the subject. "I can't promise that our beaches are as tropical as Ischia's but they do have their own rugged charm," she adds with a smile that comes easier than before.
He can fell it in the air, the way her temper shifted into something hard. Not toward him, he doesn't think, but it's a surprise none the less. As sweet and kind as the mare had been to him, it seemed she bore the capacity for anger as well.
Life was perhaps not always kind to her, and that struck him as deeply unfair. Why was that the way of things, that the kind ones were those who were handed the worst of the world, that those who touched cruelty and violence got to take what they wanted? There was no justice to it, and he knew he had no power to make things different than they were. Still, he could lessen the anger that had reflected itself in the hardness of her voice. He could do that, at least.
His voice was steady, maybe even light as he shrugged off the encounter he had had with the stallion's Aten and Wolfbane. In particular, he did not want her thinking she ought to confront the latter. The violent man had seemed to find sick joy in threatening Aten's assumed mate, Tyr thought that it would mean nothing to harm Lilli for interfering. "It won't happen again," he assured her, knowing he couldn't be certain of that. Not without leaving the Taiga.
There was a moment of hesitation where his body stood stiff and doubtful, before he let his muzzle reach out to the emptiness he knew held her within. He moved slowly, not wanting to bash into her. Wild, clean scent filled him as his mouth touched her with the lightest graze. "I am very grateful to have such a valiant guide in these woods." He murmured, withdrawing the contact after a moment had passed. Her breath cut the air forcefully, a gust of emotion he figured was normally held tight to her chest.
His lips tugged into a tight grin as she steered the conversation away from whatever had forced the air from her lungs, head shaking ruefully. "North, East, South, West, which one do you love the best?" He gave the rhyme a singsong lilt. "I reckon East might be a nice change for the day. And on the way there, maybe you can tell me what's got you so tense. Or don't. If you're more at ease being the tour guide, I'll listen either way."
His expression was mild, but intent, ears fixed for the moment on the woman before him. Troubles, he'd found, could be lightened by the listening. And Tyr was nothing if not good at listening.
12-14-2019, 08:57 PM (This post was last modified: 12-14-2019, 09:00 PM by lilliana.)
"You can't promise that." The words fall flat in the spring air around them and Lilliana hates herself for ruining such a lovely afternoon. This is a bright, vibrant day and even Taiga's fog doesn't linger close today. The fog has been reduced to an apparition - a memory of silver and shadows as waves crash against a rugged shoreline.
There is an electric current of energy as the anger charges underneath her copper skin. There are so many places in this world - in this universe - that are exposed to hardship and trial and cruelty. When she looks up through the branches of the redwoods, on those quiet nights and she manages to spy a single star, those are not the things she hopes for this forest.
Like Ischia, she wants it to be a haven for those who are tired. She wants it to be a place for those who are lost to find. She wants it to be a place where families can raise their foals without having to worry that the place they consider home could vanish. (All it takes is a fog to change everything but perhaps Taiga's fog is a barrier; perhaps it is the very thing that keeps them all safe.) Tyr moves slowly towards her and Lilliana stands guarded with her anger. She knows that danger comes in all shapes and forms outside their borders but the helplessness she feels that danger could be inside their home is enough to rile her to this point.
She had offered protection to Tyr - had given her word that he would be safe beneath these branches - and instead, he found trouble.
Winds help her, what is she doing? Doubt trickles down through the anger and tempers it. It turns a different shade as she wonders why she thought she had any notion of politics or diplomacy or even trying to be a fragment of what her parents had been, what they had stood for - she has neither the iron-will of her mother or the golden steadfastness of her father (she measures herself through their eyes and will always come up wanting by doing that, though she hasn't yet realized it).
The stallion moves slowly and Lilliana stands quietly, watching him from beneath her wavy forelock. She doesn't make any movement or indication that she will move away from him. When he does reach her and his mouth lightly grazes her neck, the copper mare turns her head to his direction and finds herself calming beneath the kindness of his touch.
His murmured words make her apologetically shake her head as a half-smile emerges against her dark maw. "Don't thank me yet," she teases. "I could just as easily get us lost." With that, Lilli turns and starts down a trail she knows. She only ventures a few steps before she calls over her shoulder, "I think this direction is East." Laughter warms her voice. While her sense of direction might be lacking outside of Taiga, she has learned this forest and its intricate trails. She knows these paths - she has spent countless hours getting lost and winding her way around the Taiga to know the way they weave through the redwoods.
She starts down the trail and considers what he had said earlier. An ear remains flicked back towards him as Lilliana continues to walk - remembering another day where she led another horse through this same forest and how a shadow came alive. ('Lilliana I think I know the perfect place for you and Neverwhere, if you know it.') She blinks back the memory and forces her attention back to Tyr, "You really want to know?" She counters. Silence before she moves over to another part of their path and adds, "Watch out. Move more to the left. There is a large boulder ahead blocking part of the trail."
Another exhalation as she considers her words. "Taiga has been part of Nerine since..." and she stops, realizing she doesn't know. Lilliana realizes she should mend that. Another history lesson with Aten might be in order. "Well, the Reckoning I guess. I don't know." The chestnut uses her voice as a guide, letting it float back to the celestial stallion as a way to follow her. "But now Loess is involved and both kingdoms think they have a claim to it." She ducks beneath a fern as she lowers her head and it brushes lightly against her topline, "Leaves ahead."
Lilli tries to keep the steeliness from hardening her voice. But she can't help it. Old wounds not fully healed open up. "We moved around a lot when I was young," she admits. "Taiga is the first home I've known since I was born." Part of her knows that it isn't the place that makes home.. well, home. (She can hear Malachi in her head, echoing from past conversations: 'Home is wherever we are together.') It does nothing to ease her worry and she finds herself biting her lip as she walks before she says, "It just worries me. I'm not used to things being so complicated."
Complicated, she thinks, is a rather appropriate term for her these days.
And then like before (she doesn't want to burden Tyr too much with these problems), she changes the subject."Were you born in Ischia?" Remembering her own visit to the tropical island, she curiously asks: "Has it always been a sanctuary?"
He snorted at the certain way she disagreed with him, so very sure she was right. And he knew it was not impossible that he would never be bothered again in these woods. That didn't mean he couldn't be flippant about it though.
"I just did, so that's enough arguing from you." He grinned. He was not typically so vocal, had long ago discovered that others were less likely to give him trouble if he remained agreeable. With Lilli though, he was finding the courage to speak his mind a bit more freely.
The moment of tense anger faded, thankfully. Then they were laughing over the directional challenges the territory presented. The thick carpet of dry needles rustled softly underfoot as he felt the warmth of her fade from his nose. She was moving off, and he listened to figure out which way she was going. "I trust you." He said, stepping cautiously after the scent of her.
His movements were slow, painfully so. The trail was not a particularly straight one, and the uneven earth was treacherous beneath him. The boulder was avoided well enough, but the feathery leaves of the fern caught against his forelock when he didn't duck low enough to evade them. His attention was split between keeping himself upright and following the tale Lilli was currently telling.
He'd never had to meddle with politics much. As a nomad, they served him only as far as he needed to know where he could and couldn't go. Now he was in a territory seemingly under dispute. This was a place like most others to the midnight stallion. He didn't feel particularly attached to it, not anymore than any other land he had overwintered in any other year.
Lilli though seemed quite attached to the place, seemed to feel the conflict surrounding them as a personal threat. Taiga was lucky to have such a loyal member in its ranks. He shook his head, unsure what he could contribute to the conversation. "I guess things are always more complicated, the more you care about them." He suggested, hoping it wasn't a completely inane thing to say.
Then just like before, the subject is turned back into himself. That she had shared as much as she had seemed enough for her. He would let it go. For now, he could speak of the place that had given him life. "Oh yeah, same as my sisters. I'm just the only one that didn't stay." He paused a moment to navigate a washboarded section of the trail. His head bobbed uncertainly until the rough ground was behind him.
"As far as I know, yes. But- Damn!" He stumbled on a small stone and recovered quickly. "I mean. Sorry, I don't really know. I haven't lived there in years. And I didn't really get much of a history lesson while living there. We mostly kept to ourselves." He grimaced, putting more of his focus into where he was putting his feet. It was a bit more multitasking than he was used to.
01-05-2020, 08:53 PM (This post was last modified: 01-05-2020, 08:54 PM by lilliana.)
something in the wind has learned my name and it keeps telling me that nothing is the same
Oh, Tyr.
There is something you have to know about my flower child. Her word, something that she has been taught to rarely give (her affection, her laughter, her smiles she beams like sunshine but her promises are frequently kept to herself), because her word is something that matters. Promises made to her have been rarely kept in her lifetime and with each broken promise, Lilliana has learned how important it is to keep hers.
So she doesn't make promises she can't keep.
Your safety, a safe harbor beneath the imperial redwoods, is something she gave her word on. There are many places of doubt in her life but she will not allow Taiga to be one of them. Despite the fog that this place is famous for, she doesn't let uncertainty cloud her hopes for her home. Taiga is not meant to be a place for struggle. The trees that stand proudly above her will not tolerate it (or so she dreams for this forest).
She has given you her word and as far as she is concerned, Lilli is determined to see it kept.
He grins and her mouth pulls into an unfamiliar frown, something that still feels foreign after all those winter months hidden away. (She hadn't smiled then either but her mouth hadn't tugged downward as it does now, hadn't been pulled away from the pull of gravity that often kept it upward.) Lilliana simply lets the silence linger and lets it speak for itself of her determination. The chestnut mare lets the subject gracefully drop and instead turns her mind towards the east, in leading the celestial stallion to a place where he might find some refuge.
Her stride is slow and while his is slower, Lilliana doesn't mind. Each step she makes has a deliberate sound - the crush of pine needles beneath her hooves, the stroke of a fern against her crimson skin, the snap of a twig against her - things she uses alongside her voice to use as a guide for him. (She wishes the breeze would cooperate and keep her scent downwind to allow him better ability to follow but the ability of her ancestors is not her gift to give.)
"I suppose your right," she concedes into the springtime air. "I just...," and Lilliana pauses, struggling to find the right words. "Sometimes I feel this place hum beneath my hooves," the chestnut mare keeps walking but warmth (love) floods her voice, affection softens her face into a thoughtful expression. "It's like I can hear the trees whisper." A rather embarrassed smile tugs at her face then and Lilli looks over shoulder to the stallion who follows behind her, "Silly, I know."
The Diplomat keeps walking but she is listening as well, an ear kept back for Tyr and there is a fair amount of fascination as she listens. "Is there a reason?" she asks before she realizes that the question that escapes her might be something too personal for Tyr to share. Lilliana sees another corner ahead and says, "I-" Its the start of an apology but instead, she offers, "I never wanted to leave my home. It's rather a curiosity for me, to learn what has driven others out into the world."
