"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
She’s back here again. Back among the sea of deep green, the trees she just emerged from at her back and the world in front of her. Rolling hills morph into the Mountain in the distance, far into the distance. Mid-day brings a warm sun, but autumn brings a chilly breeze that tugs at her thick creamy hair. Her freckled coat bristles, it’s grown thicker in the last month or so in preparation for winter. She always grows a hefty, healthy coat for the snowy seasons and therefore prefers frigid mountainous, mostly northern regions.
She grazes for now, sticking to the tree-line and keeping her yellow golden eyes peeled for any movement in her immediate space. It is obvious she travels alone; it’s obvious she’s healthy, that she’s seen a few battles – the scars tell a story of a chaotic, violent past. Rusty stains outline each bright glass-eye and streak down each cheek. They weep fresh blood each new moon (not precise, but approximately), and her pale face bears the marks of former emotionless tears and forever will.
So as she has many times before this very moment, she waits with patience and a keen eye. A few wandered too close and she lets pinned ears, a snapping jaw, even the occasional screech let them know they are too close. She’ll choose who comes close, clearly.
Serious inquiries only.
in the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
Returning to the common lands once more brought back some familiarity. He had spent many days wandering these parts. Today was different though. He was not wandering without purpose today. His large frame moved with unbelievable grace for his size. Two beat pace was set as he traveled across the open terrain. Equines of all sorts lined the field. Some lost in thought, others in conversation. Sky blue orbs scanned the area as he moved to a high point atop a hill. Coming to a sudden halt, large head tossed high. Silver drapery hung from his strong neck, covering his dappled hide...
A light figure caught his eye along the treeline. Another silver horse of smaller frame, hinting to him it was a lone mare. Ears flicked forward in interest. She seemed content on her own, not seeking others out for attention. He whickered softly a greeting hoping to catch her attention. Then he chose a new pace. A slower one that wouldn't alarm. His long strides carrying him nearer fast enough. His head always hung low in a neutral way. Studying her movements as he came to a halt a good distance from her. If she should come at him he was far enough off to see it coming. His head raised a tad as he offered a greeting and his name, "Hello. I am Orion. May I ask ye's name?" Always the proper gentleman he was raised to be he waited patiently for her response...
It's the best she can do, to continue to return the field and try to find more to fill the borders of the hills. She was working so hard, and she truly wanted her home to be a success. Though even if it wasn't one day, she wanted to know that she had worked her hardest and tried her best. Which is why she is here today, approaching the field once more having left her beautiful home behind. Each and every time she leaves it, she is saddened to see it behind her rather than in front of her as she heads south.
It's rolling green landscape with sharp and jagged boulders poking out here and there while surrounded by mix matched vegetation, towering trees and turquoise rivers is a sight that she would hate to lose. It was so beautiful there, snuggled up comfortably next to the mountain's edge. Slowly stepping into the field, she tears herself away from her thoughts of home and slowly scans the few groups in search of someone she could in the least, extend an offer to.
It takes a while, but then the short spotted mare sees the fleabitten mare, and her ears prick curiously. She watches her move as she steps through the yellowing grasses and each scar that she can see is noted until finally her eyes come to rest on the stranger's face. The rusted stains draw her in completely and for a moment she takes a step forward as the other warns the rest to keep their distance. Though the mare's nature doesn't bother her. Instead it makes her chuckle slightly. Her attitude is certainly appealing.
It's about this time, where she's ready to make her approach that a much taller horse makes his way into view and approaches the other. He's a darker gray this one and it's when he comes to a stop that she moves forward, her small spotted body elegantly slipping through the tall grasses. Her eyes remain on the mare, her attention not as much on the other until finally she reaches their one-on-one group. Glancing up at him as she passes him she nods a hello before looking back towards the other and coming a stop a bit closer than the other.
It is not too close, she too keeps her distance, but she is unable to discuss at further distances due to her smaller stature and softer voice. It wouldn't help anyone if she couldn't hear what the other had to say. "And I'm Crota," her eyes dance across the other's dished features until finally her voice slips through her lips once again. "You don't strike me as the type to wander into a simple place like this."
The corners of her lips tilt upwards in a show that her statement means no harm. In all honestly it simply means that Crota finds her too interesting to be wandering the fields. "What brings you here today?"
04-22-2017, 12:40 PM (This post was last modified: 04-22-2017, 12:42 PM by Ruan.)
He came and the Winter followed. It clung to his purple-peppered coat in a sheet of glittering frost, trailed his breath in lines of steam on each side of his dark face as he walked. The chill surrounded him, grasping to swallow the heat of any others in his immediate area. And so he had even more reason to keep his distance than he had before, more than simply the isolation of a broken.. king. No, not king.
God, he hated that word.
Hated, too, coming to this place. It was rare that he did, elusive and concealed in his home of dense trees and fierce, wild hearts. The forest would always be home to him, and it was from the forest that he came. His weight quietly pressed on the damp, fallen leaves of Autumn, leaving behind a light dusting of snow that almost immediately melted after his chill followed him far enough away. Gone were the days he could control it, have it sit so silently within him until he reached for the icy magic. He'd been thrust into too many changes all at once, too much turmoil and strife, and the Winter was released.
So, he was at her back, as she kept the forest at hers, and slid in place a neutral distance at her side, facing the others as she did. It was less than the wide berth her other potentials gave her, but enough that she remained just on the outskirts of the cold chill surrounding him. She wasn't fragile, wasn't going to break if someone came too close. Could take care of herself, clearly. With a glance, he noted the scars sketched across her, far outnumbering the large, welted slashes down his own sides, the stains on her face, the mark across her shoulders like the bloodied hand of some god that only added to the wary heat in her firestone eyes.
His gaze settled on the male, Orion, took in his figure thick with muscle and a warrior's grace. Some kind of protector, maybe, but oddly serene for one. He gave him a nod of acknowledgement before drifting to the other woman, Crota. The scent on her was entirely unfamiliar, and he peered at her in mild curiosity at her question, finding it strange. Or perhaps unnecessary. Why else would someone come to the Field? But these were the way of diplomats, he knew. Small talk, friendly chatter. Nothing he was well-versed in.
"Ruan," he introduced to them, glacial blue eyes sliding back to gold ones. "From the Taiga, the forest," he added before falling silent and watchful.
If she felt he was too close, he was ready. How many times had he claimed his own space in the same ways even to his own daughter? It didn't bother him, but the cold of his skin might burn. He wasn't really sure, had only touched his fire-born daughter since the magic became as feral and untamed as he was. He would stand and take it, and claim his space right back. As was the way of wolves.
04-26-2017, 06:46 PM (This post was last modified: 04-26-2017, 06:47 PM by City.)
C i t y
A few fools, a few jesters of the like, many pass by without a thought and some try an approach – she’s chased several away by now. A big boy, she can smell boyness from where she stands, he’s off in the distance and he’s rumbling for her. He approaches without an answer, oh yes, he’s big. She likes big. She likes smart too though and in her experience big often means dumb. He doesn’t seem too oafy at first glance, she ponders, turning broadside and eyes him with her facing eye. She sucks in a breath of cold autumnal air, her tail, long and creamy blond, tosses a few times and rests to spill across her freckled hocks. Her ears flip upright and then one back again, she says nothing to him and slides her sleepy gaze to the next subject.
She. To be truthful she’s always preferred woman – in all aspects, they’re just better. Conversation, sex, fighting, leaders, lovers. Those hard yellow eyes of her betray no interest at all, though, and she again tosses her thick spiraled tail flick back and forth and then rest. She wonders deviously if any of them plan on having a fresh womb – even a Queen, her eyes find the spotted mare, can have plans for another’s womb. The Moth’s child squirms in her, but her body shows nothing of it. Come spring she may have to fight. Her eyes drift back to the dappled man only to linger for a second and find the little mare again; she has a n interesting inquiry, City thinks on her answer for a moment. “Desperation.” She laughs, but it is not of humor or light-hearted fun, it is a bit darker, a little manic even. Though her stare doesn’t quite say ‘lunatic’, there is certainly something sinister clawing beneath the surface of her sulfur gaze. Her voice is raspy and low, still feminine, but steely.
The same desperation that bring you here. Her eyes do not stray, but hone, even bore into the eyes of Crota. Small but strong, – maybe even fierce, intelligent. She startles in place as he slides out and stands rather close. Her tail slashes this time, four or five times instead of once. A hind hoof striking the ground, flinging earth from the gauge in the turf. She is not accustomed to being snuck upon, but it peaks her interest that it has been done. She says nothing, doesn’t strike out, only looking at him, head low and eyes half-lit, like a displeased cat. She bands an ear on him as he speaks his name, his home. His common sense of the whole matter certainly impresses her, but she lets none of that notion cross her face. Instead she sighs and looks to Orion, then Crota, and back to Ruan, “City.” She nods, cordial but not necessarily quaint and full of friendliness. “I was away when the mountain was raised, but I’ve heard stories. Seen some of the aftermath, but I’ve not travelled far,” She looks to Crota, “The Kingdoms are dead, yes?” And now to Ruan her golden eyes settle, “Is there any militia, governments, groups? If it is a simple herd you’re offering,” She finds each one again and loops back to settle on the purple-spotted stallion. “I’ll pass.” She breathes between words. “But I’m open to other sorts of opportunities.”
in the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
probably errors galore, forgive me! i didn't have time to edit before going to stuff my face with food and know me i'll be be much too lazy to run through and fix stuff so just pretend i'm literate <33
Old man winter's bite was nipping at the heels of autumn. Waiting to unleash its fury upon the lands of Beqanna. As the foilage dried and trees turned bare, the first signs of what was to come. He had prepared the best he could. His coat thickened and weight gained. Hopefully the coastal land of which he resided offered some shelter from what lie ahead in the coming months...
As he stood before the mare awaiting her acknowledgment of him he viewed her sleek form. Not being too large nor too small she seemed a suitable fit for life in Nerine. More so even at the events that unfolded before him. A smallish spotted mare slid quickly past him. Offering a nod of a greeting, which he returns, then onto boldly approaching the other and questioning her. Content on listening to what was said and the others reaction. It wasn't much longer when another arrived. Sky blue eyes watched as another stallion came stalking up from behind her. Once forward ears pressed firmly to his skull as his head raised. He watched the mares reaction to the spotted stallions advance. Tensions rising as the gathering was becoming a crowd. Nares flared as he motioned to step forward but halted as she began to speak. Her name simple, but her words full of strength. A simple life would not satisfy her. A grin pulled at his pale lips. He did not offer a simple life...
He saw his moment, his opportunity. His gaze slid to the purple-spotted stallion as a step was now taken toward the speckled cream mare. Large head tucked to his deep chest as he moved with purpose. Heavy frame caused imprints in even the dried packed dirt that a many had traveled upon. He placed himself beside the spotted mare but a step ahead. Not giving her a glance. His focus slipping from the other stallion to the one he seeked to entertain. His voice was deep and rough naturally. This time he did not try to soften it as he purposed an offer, "If ye wish to be apart of a great kingdom join us in Nerine. Ruled by our Queen Nayl, protected by those who have proven their worth. 'Tis not a land for thy meek." Blue eyes held her own gaze, waiting for any signs of interest. Surely if he misread her and she wished for simplicity he would turn and leave without hesitation. Nerine was far from simple and only the strong would survive...
i'm nothing more than a simple face in world full of unique beauty.
It's unusual how the other ignores the first, though the action draws her in further. She is more than intrigued by the other and she wants to know her, not only try and recruit her. For Crota had always been one that was easily attracted to those who were different. Who had an air of toughness and touch of mystery. Caw, Spear and Scythe were in all honesty perfect examples. Upon meeting them she had felt an instantaneous connection. Though if Crota were able to read the other's mind, hear her thoughts about her wonder of another womb, she probably would have felt the slightest bit offended. Only because she never would use another mare for her womb, or her children. For she couldn't do the same to others and not expect them to want to do the same for her. Though despite that being said, she would have understood the stranger's thoughts. If it were her in the other's position, she certainly wouldn't trust them either. Especially with her coming child if she was pregnant.
It is only when the other begins to speak to her first that her ears prick forward and in the direction of the other. "Desperation." It is a word she understands all too well and in response she chuckles lightly. "You and I both," her words are silky as they slip through her lips and touched with a slight hint of amusement. It was sometimes better to be brutally honest then slip around and avoid it and honestly she wasn't the type to bullshit even with as nice as she tended to be. The other's light manic like laughter and stare does not deter her though and it could go with saying that she almost barely noticed it. The darkness in others was something she wasn't afraid of or deterred by. She had come to learn over time that even though it resided deep within most, that it could be a worthy advantage to having within one's home. Especially when it came to times of needing to protect one another.
She is thinking of this, wondering about the other, as she allows her own gaze to match unfaltering with the other's. It only breaks though when the other startles and slowly her gaze slinks to the newcomer with ease. She watches him silently as he introduces himself and when he is finished she nods respectfully. She knows of Ruan, leader of the Taiga, and though she had not yet met him personally she had heard rumors of his strength and good leadership. But this wasn't the time to be pondering over politics and so she quietly turns her attention back to the mare. "City," her name is an unusual one, and makes Crota's interest peak even further if that was at all possible.
Her short story of her life draws Crota a step closer, curious as ever. She had not seen the mountain raised, instead she had only heard stories. She had so many questions and yet she forced herself to stay silent until City is looking at her and directing her next words towards herself. "There are rumors that they are not as active as they once used to be unfortunately." She grows silent then, listening to the other mare's next words and allowing Orion to take his place as speaker. For he was the first one to approach City after all. Looking to him she watches the other's features as he speaks of Nerine and her interest instantly peaks. She did not realize the big stallion was a part of such an interesting home. That's of course what she gets for ignoring him at first. But she is not deterred.
When it is her turn she looks back towards City and for a moment she watches her before shrugging softly. "Honestly, my homeland is a newer one. We are not as well built as Nerine, or even Taiga," she looks towards Ruan before turning her attention back to City. "But we are working on building ourselves into something great. Our goal at the moment is to become a land of Guardians and protectors of the different, the outcast, of those who may not otherwise fit within the mold. We are building a kingdom of the unwanted, the untraited, the different and in time, we plan to be a strong and recognized force. Though that is just step once. Once we reach our first goal, we will move on to the next."
She grows silent then, giving Ruan his opportunity to speak. She doesn't want to reveal everything she planned. There was no need. In all honesty, City didn't need to know it unless she chose to follow Crota home.
When the big stallion spoke she listened carefully. She heard him, each word he picked is a well-chosen one. She nods to him, but leaves the air between them silent and slides her bright saffron eyes to the small spotted mare. A smirk cracks at one side of her gray lips when she jokes, nothing too joyous but she’s humored somewhere in that dusty old body of hers. She’s snagged by this mare, though she’s not entirely sure why. She lets her go on and holds a steady stare onto the speckled woman. Nothing is said when she speaks of the dead kingdoms, the blood-teared woman only twitches an ear toward the draft and back to Crota.
When she talks of not being what the others have built City thinks nothing of it. She doesn’t note weakness or even a second guess of the potential, but the next few sentences cut the throat of optimism with brutality. “become a land of Guardians and protectors” … The rest blurred, slithered, melted together. City’s tail snapped back and forth as if bugs were bothering her in this chilly late season. She waits for the mare to finish, but again leaves the air between them silent and moves her oily yellow eyes to Ruan, fresh blood brimming at the bottoms. He remains silent, it appears.
She finds Crota again. “I am not a protector of anything.” The fetus in her squirms and she realizes she’s just lied. “I cannot carry the weak, nor would I try, though I commend you for the effort Crota.” Her voice isn’t laced with venom, or judgement, just truth. “We will see one another again, until then, good luck with it all.” She turns away without anything more, spinning on a heel to propel into a smooth run. “I’ll meet you in Nerine, stallion.” Her feet strike rhythmically and with long reaching strides that gauge ruthlessly at the soil. She disappears into the shadows and the tree’s enveloping passages, she’s headed for the coast.
in the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
i wish she wasn't such a jerk or she would've followed @[crota] !
character wise it makes sense she'd follow orions offer, but who knows what she'll do once she gets there XD
she's going to come find crota in the hills sometime i think
and if she ever sees @[Ruan] again she'll certainly say chello <:
i needed to get this finished and get her somewhere to poop out her beb 8D
@[Orion's Belt] she'll be in nerine soon! i'll tag ya [;
