"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
so bright, the flames burned in our hearts, that we found each other in the dark.
It’s been so long since she last entered Beqanna.
Despite the years in-between herself and this place, the memories are as fresh as if they happened yesterday. The blood, the screaming …
And yet, somehow, she is always drawn back.
But never to there, never to the place it happens. Instead she wanders through the other herd lands, taking rest in the quiet, uninhabited places. She’s surprised that so many of the territories are claimed these days. Back when her father’s herd still existed, it was one of only two herds still left in all of Beqanna.
She walks and walks and walks until her legs tire and her feet begin to ache. Her mind is still restless, but her body needs rest, and so she settles down in a little cave on the edge of the nearest herdland. It is occupied - she can detect the fresh scents of the territory’s stallion and mares - but she doesn’t think they’ll pay her any mind. She is quiet and alone, and a rather slender mare - far from physically threatening. More likely than not they will ignore her, and then when she is well rested she can slip away and continue on her journey.
Not long after the painted woman steps into the Ridge, another is close behind her. Green eyes peer from the dual tone of her brow. She watches for a moment before deciding to take up her feet and bring herself on over to the quiet mare.
Surprisingly, Cryil dips her head in greeting with the hints of a smile tugging her lips upward. Typically Cryil is a rather big pain in the rump but not towards this mare for some reason. "I'm Cryil, welcome to Gemstone Ridge...uh...?" She hesitates as she waits for the other mare's input.
He is always nearby his little band, all senses alert for any danger.
At first he does not register the scent of another horse - it is difficult to find in the maelstrom of ever changing smells of a herd of pregnant mares. When he identifies it though, it seems he is not the first to do so. Cream and Cyril are moving toward the stranger. Exhaling a sharp snort, he cuts in front of his two mares, doing his best to block them from proceeding.
Njenyi realizes quickly that the stranger is a mare and his sense of danger decreases dramatically. A mare is not danger, she is valuable property. Whuffling curiously, he nudges her shoulder in an attempt to wake her and find out what she is doing in his herdland. Surely his luck cannot be so good that two unclaimed mares have just happened to wander into his territory?
so bright, the flames burned in our hearts, that we found each other in the dark.
She’s woken suddenly by gentle nudges, and the sound of quiet whuffling in her ear. “Wha …?” Oh. Oops. So much for the stallion ignoring her. She eyes him for a moment, taking in the odd mix of spots and stripes - not a combination that she’s ever seen before.
He doesn’t seem hostile, merely curious, so she hoists herself up onto her feet and tries what she thinks is a friendly smile (through really it comes off as a nervous one). “I’m sorry. I was just resting, I’ve been on my feet for a while. But if I’m bothering you I can be on my way right away!” She glances towards the cave entrance, which the stallion is currently blocking. She can see the head of a paint mare peering through.
“Oh, hello. I’m Furrow.” She can just catch a glimpse of a pale mare beyond the paint. She’s really run into the middle of things, hasn’t she? She hadn’t realized that this part of the little herd land was so busy. “Again, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb all of you. If I could just get past you,” she glances at the multi coloured stallion, “and then I’ll be on my way.”
He watches from the corner of his eye as Cream leaves, but his attention is still focused on the bay mare. She wakes quickly, and the red stallion steps away to give her space to stand up, but still remains close. She chatters on rather quickly, and Njenyi doesn't pay much attention, more focused on her body language - startled, nervous, eager to leave.
Furrow doesn't smell of another stallion - nor of a coming foal as many members of his band do - and she seems relatively able bodied, even if she talks more than he has the time to listen. "Furrow", he says, having at least gathered that this must be her name. "Stay."
He doesn't move out of the way and the word is a demand rather than a request. Still, he makes no threatening move (other than to reach out gingerly and tug at the black hair of her mane in a mock claim). when he does step away, its only to stand beside Cyril, with enough room for Furrow to leave the cave if she's tired of being in the dark ,but still near enough that were she to run, herding her back would be an easy task.
"I'm Njenyi" he adds, because they all seem to enjoy having something to call him.
08-31-2016, 12:24 AM (This post was last modified: 08-31-2016, 12:25 AM by Furrow.)
so bright, the flames burned in our hearts, that we found each other in the dark.
He’s not moving.
The thought brings a bubble of panic up to the surface. She doesn't like being trapped. It reminds her of things she’d rather not remember.
The spotted and striped stallion repeats her name, then speaks a word that is far more a demand than a request. “Stay.” She tenses, her dark brown eyes going wide. “Oh but I …” Then her lips clamp down as he reaches out to tug at her mane.
Claiming. She hadn’t even considered it a possibility.
She sputters for a moment, staring at the stallion. Then she stops, beginning to collect her thoughts. There really isn’t anything she can do to fight him. He’s strong, and powerfully built and, well, she’s never been powerful anything. She’s never been able to protect anyone, let alone herself. So she’s stuck.
But, will being stuck here really be that bad?
She’s never really had a home, not since she left Orange County, and she’d never really felt at home there anyway after her mother died. It might be nice to have a place to stay for a time. And if it’s not, maybe she can find a chance to slip away quietly once he’s grown more used to her. But, maybe … maybe this place won’t be so bad. “Ok.” She shuffles her feet awkwardly and glances briefly into his eyes before looking down. “Nice to meet you Njenyi.”
