• Logout
  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "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


    paint it black; any
    #1
    dark son of gunsynd


























    It felt like a closet door creaking open after being hidden from the sun. The light burns your eyes, burns your skin but you instinct to live keeps picking you up when you fall. It tells you to keep walking long after the blisters have wept.

    Lior finds himself in the field. All around him are throngs of horses. Big. Tall. Fat. Skinny. Mares. Stallions. Foals. Their warmth, their breathing made his jaw clench and his eyes squint tight to slivers. He is no prize amongst the living souls of Beqanna.

    The dark male is massive in height compared to the other field dwellers but his gait slow and methodical as each hoof falls in it's proper place as though mapped out and carefully stepping over landmines.

    Lior, dark gray eyes peer outward from the ragged fall of a dark forelock. The edges if his lips slip into a slight grimace to find himself int he field but he must start somewhere.

    When the soil grows softer and the grass more lush, the thick skull of the black male dips to tug a few shards of green upward. He chews slowly while looking outward and awaiting to see who would approach.

    LIOR
    Reply
    #2

    Love is friendship set on fire ...
    There had to be a first time for everything, right? Even if you didn’t know what to expect or how to behave, or what others expected from you. She guessed she would have to figure that all out for herself by trying. Recruiting was more of a diplomat tasks, and she had signed herself up for the army, she found herself in the field. Igni had been curious, even somewhat excited to see the place for herself. She had barely ventured outside of the Tundra’s southern wall and she had been wanting to see the place her father had been before he had been picked up by a previous Tundra king.

    From everything she had imagined the place to look like, nothing had been correct. It was just a field. Nothing more, nothing less. And it had horses all over it. So this was the place the diplomats visited to find new, valuable members. But what did they exactly mean with valuable? In Igni’s opinion that would be really tough warriors or smart ass little ponies. Offspring would guide for her perfect picture of a warrior and her father Brynmor would probably be how she saw a diplomat. Probably not the best examples, but the ones she had in mind.

    It was due to that that she was lured towards a big figure in the field. He was tall and black, almost scary looking. He matched her view of a warrior perfectly, after all, he somewhat took after uncle Offspring. So she approaches him, a content smile tugging on the corners of her dark lips. Due to her young age, or the fact that she only sees what she wants to see. And right now she sees a great member for the Tundra and she is convinced he would accompany her home if she would tell him that. ”Hi there, fancy meeting you here. I’m Igni” she introduces herself. Her way of speaking isn’t diplomatic at all, still somewhat childish, but she tries.

    And she thinks she’s doing a great job. This would make uncle Offspring and her father happy, right? ”So, what is a big, tall and handsome stud like you doing in the field? I can’t imagine you don’t have a home to protect at all.” Blunt. Where Brynmor is always so direct, his young daughter still had to learn the refined ways of conversing. Learning what you could say, and what you obviously could not.
    ... and fire is the burning passion within.
    Reply
    #3
    dark son of gunsynd


























    He stands tall, unwavering, by the scent of panting mares and the animistic grunts of testosterone fueled stallions. The inky black man gazes outward as he allows his dark view to crawl over the tangle of bodies peering from the brush of his brow. Unnoticed at first but rudely firmly penetrating his solitude, a little voice pipes up. 

    It's feminine and high.

    He moves to look upon the keeper of the young voice and...well...his eyes are not disappointed. A small blue roan girl, leggy and rather delicate as she stands next to him. And from what Lior can see, she is attempting some idle chit chat. Long lashes fall over the darkness of his eyes as he stares down at her from the length of his nose.

    Blink.

    "That's adorable." The stallion mutters from the heavily whiskered lips. He inhales her scent and stores it away before proceeding to dip his skull a little closer to her...and of course disregarding her space. "Igni. What land do you come from?" He ignores her questions and cheekiness rather bluntly but instead commands the space between them and replaces her questions with his own. Lobes move within the nest of dark mane as he awaits her reply.

    LIOR
    Reply
    #4

    Love is friendship set on fire ...
    A confident smile tugs on the corners of her lips as she looks up to him. Not really because he amazes here – although she cannot say he is not attractive – but simply because he is so goddamn tall. She’s awaiting a reply, an answer to her question. If she got one, she could tell him about her home, and convince him to come with her to live there too, easy as that. However, Igni is not prepared for the reaction she got.

    Adorable? It takes the blue roan girl aback, surprising her, and she can only blink her eyes a few times in return. She honestly doesn’t understand where the comment had come from, and she even glances around to see if he’s reacting to something else, but no. It’s just her and him. ”I.. I’m sorry?” she somewhat stutters in return, before managing to get herself together again. ”I didn’t quite catch that, what did you say?” Now Igni is somewhat smirking again, trying to overcome her previous flustered state.

    But once again she doesn’t get a reply. Instead he moves closer, his big head lowering towards hers. Instantly her heart is beating in her chest, rather loudly, and she fears he might hear it. She can only look at him for a moment though, eyes wide and lips parted in a silent gasp. What was this? This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. She should be the one convincing him and then guide him to the Tundra. Not the other way around. ”I uh- the Tundra..”

    He’s so close and she would only have to reach out a bit to touch him. She can feel his breath upon her skin, tickling it, as she stands there almost completely frozen. Just a few centimeters, that’s how close he is and Igni thinks about how easy it was for her to reach out to him. It’s then that she suddenly stumbles backwards, now taking a deep breath and creating some distance between them. What the fuck was that? Looking up at him again, after having taken another deep breath, she puffs out her chest and held her head high. ”Do you think you have what it takes to live there? To survive the harsh winters and compete with your brothers and sisters in the castes?” Her voice is less cheeky and sure as before, but at least she’s not stuttering anymore. For now.
    ... and fire is the burning passion within.
    Reply
    #5
    BUT HOW COULD YOU KNOW THE SWEETEST SUFFERING
    OF MOVING ON
    It could be a meager attempt by now with having been approached by a female (so delicate, the fairer sex) but Tiphon’s shoulders ripple in a resigned shrug. From afar he watches in the appearance of the male then the mare soon after. Knowing well how the process goes, Tiphon pushes himself forward and takes an alternative mode of approach: walking. There is no teleporting or flying. It’s a run of the mill casual stroll through the knots of horses. An amused, lopsided grin finds its way across his lips as he tries to reflect on when he last decided to take a walk. With so many different options he tends to choose the quickest, but he is in no rush, not today.

    ”Hello,” the voice that’s emitted is deep but has the purity of a chord on the harp. It reverberates through their bodies and tenderly caresses their ears. ”I’m Tiphon,” the fact of being a soldier is evident by the stern but collected tone, but his body is unscathed and seemingly untouched by opponents. His coat, porcelain and molten gold, soaks in the sunlight hanging above them all. His eyes, calculating, observe the male warily before flickering to the mare as the space between them is closed. ”You must know her well to invade personal space like that,” it’s half-jokingly that he says this but he also regards the female for her objections.

    ”If you aren’t too deeply swooning over her, I have an alternative option for a home in the Dale.” Growth and power, that’s what the kingdom needs. There is so much room to climb and to find success, but he doesn’t indulge in this just yet. The opportunities that lie in wait are for those deserving, not just to anyone meandering the field. Additionally, he assumes testosterone will win and the stranger will pursue the poor girl; nonetheless, Tiphon remains steadfast and curious in the matter.



    TIPHON
    STARLACE AND INFECTION
    Reply
    #6
    dark son of gunsynd


























    He is a big ole grumpy bastard. He isn't exactly known to smile or laugh. And that doesn't change now either as the rather young mare seems to just exude some sort of playful coyness. The dark eyes of our all seeing Lior catch as she flinches against his words. His intent is none other than to get down to business but he can sense she is the joker, the class clown. Well...Lior is as funny as slipping and falling on your ass at your wedding.

    Simply put, he isn't.

    Well now, "The Tundra." He cuts her off and considers this place quietly as he has heard of the frozen desert but it is a woman who approaches. How very odd. Lior looks her over. She is scrawny, puny next to him. It is also when she is reeling back that he he watches her stumble before she attempts to throw some iron welded words at him. The large male simply walks towards her and -boops- her on her poll with his whiskered muzzle before moving passed her and ignoring her question. "C'mon, Igni, let's go." Lior tosses the porcelain and gold stallion a glance over the broad withers as he moves along, leading the mare if she decides to get her self together and follows him.

    LIOR
    Reply
    #7

    Love is friendship set on fire ...
    As he repeats her words, cutting her off in the process, she just stares at him dumbfound for a couple of seconds. After she just nods awkwardly, to confirm that she indeed came from the Tundra. Igni isn’t sure if he doubts her or not, but that surely is what it looks like. That meant that he hadn’t heard about the most recent changes of the Tundra yet. But the way he had caught her off guard and cut her off was enough for her hold back her tongue right now.

    She hears and smells him before she sees him. Instantly her ears turn backwards and her head jerks up, before she actually turns towards him. Oh, she clearly doesn’t like this stranger to intrude – after all, that was how the young blue roan mare saw it – because this big black stranger is HER recruit for the Tundra. Igni is about to sneer at him when her eyes land on the porcelain and gold stallion and well, she is baffled for the nth time today.

    However, she doesn’t get to greet him, nor she has a chance to reply to his almost sneering words, as she once again freezes when the black stallion’s muzzle touches her poll. ”Wha-“ Once again cut off, as the black warrior ignores Tiphon and almost orders her to go. It should be the other way around, right? Igni was the one recruiting him. She should be the one to lead him home, but things clearly didn’t go according to the books.

    ”I’m Igni” she mumbles before she takes off, trotting to close the gap between her and the black stranger. After all, she still didn’t know the stud’s name. But honestly, her mind was still too consumed with his actions for her to be able to ask him for it. The place his muzzle had touched still tingled and it was almost like she could still feel his breath on her skin. So she ends up just following him, a few steps behind and deeply lost in her own thoughts.
    ... and fire is the burning passion within.



    OOC: Guess one of us can start a thread in the Tundra ^^ If I had time I would've done it right away, but I should prepare to sleep and class tomorrow..
    Reply




    Users browsing this thread: 2 Guest(s)