"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
When cold was banished by the warm sun, the painted mare finally makes her way to the field.
plop
plop
plop
Her feet catch in the muck of cold winter run off and melted snow. A frown attemptes to pull her feaures downward as she disapproves of the disaster formerly known as the field. A sigh follows along with an eye roll before she decides she has gone too far to turn back and continues her muddy trek towards the land.
The sounds of birds and squirrels chattering away lightens her mood. The field was much the same as it had been before the Reckoning and it's familiarity was something of a mild comfort. Wreath knew the next step was to wait and see who offered her a home so she best make herself well aquainted with the land for it could be days or weeks before another found her.
With a nose towards the ground, the delicate velvet of her lips split to seek whatever fresh shoots had started to grow during this quiet spring day.
The warmth of spring was a welcome change for the buckskin. He had grown tired of the bite of winter, the sharpness of air as it had stung his lungs. At least in Tephra the weather had been milder, warmer. He had long since grown accustomed to the sulphur in the air and become comfortable with the humidity, but it did mean that his winter coat had become stunted. Where years in the Gates had trained him to welcome winter (mild as it was there), Tephra required no such protection. He was as sleek in the dead of the season as he was during the summer—which was fine there, but brutal when he ventured elsewhere.
All of which to say that he was pleased to find the field more welcoming than it had been. He smiled as he made his way, head tipping backward for a moment so that he could consider the sun as it washed over him, the cloudless sky brilliantly blue. It was if Beqanna was as excited for the change in season as he.
When he glanced back down, he saw her, striped bold red and pristine white, standing out amongst the vegetation as surely as a swath of wildflowers. It made him smile, and his expression was warm as he made his way toward her. “Hello!” he called when he was close enough for her to see him in return, his own coat a dull, hammered gold in comparison to her unique hue. “My name is Magnus.” He wondered at how often he had offered up a similar greeting, at how many times he had begun the same way.
“It is a pleasant day today,” he smiled crookedly. “What brings you to the field?”
Wreath is absolutely elated to hear a kind greeting. Her features return the brightness as she lifts her head to see a strong gold man making his way towards her. Perhaps it was her upbringing but the young mare can see not a stich of animosity across his (rather attractive) features. "Hello to you as well!" her retort comes back to meet him as he makes his way towards her.
Lobes are already trained towards him, perked and curious as he nears her to have conversation. Wreath shifts her weight as she bites back on the excitement of being picked in the field. "Well it is lovely to meet you, Magnus." The young woman chirps brightly with a smile. "And I must agree that it is a lovely day. Please call me Wreath." Her voice lights with a small laugh as she is nervous, running her sentences together. A moment passes as she attempts to ground herself, try to appear a little more adult. "Looking for a home, I suppose." She speaks to the stallion whilst giving a glance of her surroundings with a furrowed brow, further expressing her desire to leave the desolate field.
Oh the sloppiness of spring, but yet, the happiness it brings. The season of new life, and rebirth of nature. Naga had wished she was having a kidlet of her own, but, she knew that with the stress of running a kingdom and having a lovely blooming relationship with a lovely woman, that it was not to be any time soon. But, she liked admiring others and their newborn children, watching them learn to walk and see most of them bobbling about. She loved children and the new freshness of spring. Thus what fueled her desire to make her way to the field.
Sloppier than usual but still full of horses of all shapes, sizes.....and colors. Naga's bright green eyes catch a glimpse of red and white in the distance and also something golden. Her delicate small pointed ears flicker forward, her pace quickens toward the pair. Her hooves squelching into the cold muck of the once lush meadow. Though she was glad the sun shone down on her salted black coat. As she finally reaches them, she only manages to catch the brightly colored mare's last words. "Looking for a home, I suppose".....perfect. Just what she liked to hear. Our dark queen nickers warmly to the pair, nodding her head respectfully to both mare and the golden hued man. Her usual deep sultry voice slipped smoothly through dark velvet lips. Her ears perked forward, eyes bright and full of hope.
"Hello, hope I am not interrupting, but I heard you say you are looking for a home?
She pauses a moment to let the two speak before moving on.
"My name is Naga, queen of Nerine. Pleased to meet both of you! I would like to extend you an invitation to come stay with us, in our ebony sand beach Kingdom if you would like. We are a predominantly female run kingdom, but we also welcome men as well. New and still creating new traditions and memories. But we are a pretty peaceful bunch."
She leaves it short and sweet, leaving room for the golden man to speak and maybe offer his land to shelter her as well. But, our warm black feline woman hopes for the best out of this situation. The kingdom needed more bodies desperately, and she was determined to bring a kindhearted woman back with her...with hopes to redeem herself. Her short absence was not taken lightly with some of the women, but she was not going to let that stop her from continuing her dream of creating a new and welcoming kingdom for women, a safe haven for them, and kind misunderstood characters alike. She wanted it to be an accepting place, though still full of that sisterhood pride. Here goes for hoping. It had been so long since she had recruited anyone, but she had a positive outlook.
Magnus was pleased to find her so happy and kind, it was not always what one could expect here. He was always shocked to find the venom someone greeted him with in the Field, as if he was the reason that they had found themselves there, lost and homeless. He did his best to forgive them for the vitriol, chalking it up to the stress of the situation, but it was difficult to not always feel his hackles rise in response.
Which is all to say that he relaxed when she smiled, his own smile warming in response.
“Wreath, what a beautiful name,” he offered, his crooked smile charming and genuine. Before he could respond further, they were joined by the dark woman, his half-sister, although he had no way of knowing. Not that he would have been particularly surprised. Atrox had more than a handful of children.
He dipped his head. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Naga.” This was the second time he had heard of Nerine and the sisterhood. He had wanted to ask Celeana more of it, to know that the women of his childhood home had fared well after the Reckoning, but she had not taken kindly to his presence so he had never had the chance. Perhaps now he would. “Have the Amazons fared well in their new home?” His nose scrunched a little as he laughed and shook his head. “Or perhaps you do not call yourselves Amazons anymore? I don’t wish to be rude. So much has changed.” It would be difficult to re-learn that.
Swinging his head back to Wreath, he caught her gaze. “I also have a home. We call it Tephra and it is just north of here, nestled beneath a grand volcano.” It was stunning to look at, the vegetation lush, the air humid—much like Naga’s old jungle home—but it was not right for everyone. He had grown used to the sulfuric bite in the air, in navigating the occasional rivers of magma, but that did not mean everyone would appreciate it. “I would be happy to tell, or show you, more, if you are interested.”
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