i want you to remember; charlemagne

[Lior]

Winter wraps her delicate fingers around Beqanna's throat, clutching with pale fingers and dirty nails. Lior ventures from the sanctity of Nerine to reacquaint himself with the secrets nestled snugly against the warm breast of this world. Feathered limbs pull him along as he finds himself comfortable in his equine skin and leathery wings, tangled mop of dread locks gently drumming against the thickness of his neck.

There is a clarity that exists between the shades of gray and white. Any swatch of color is a disruption in the frozen perfection of the forest. Lior can hear the small patter of snowflakes that fall from the swollen sky. He pauses for a moment to peer upward, the strands of his forelock falling to the wayside over a single eye. He breathes it all in deeply, his chest expanding and the heaviness of his wings lifting to stretch outward under the eye of a gray sky.

I want you to remember

[Charlemagne]

He cuts an impressive swathe of black against the stark white landscape. His scent says he has been abroad. His stern look on his face says he has something on his mind. Charlemagne watches him from her place up on the bluff, her heart does what it can to lift up into her hardening eyes, as if trying to remember the girl of her youth. But no matter how her heart was pounding when he entered the forest--and these days she always knew who entered the forest, having made a home here ever since that night--she forced herself to swallow it down, tucked her wings deep into her sides, and pulled a hoof after another sure-footed hoof down the minuscule hill.

She makes no secret of her presence here--and has no reason to.

She has not left this section of Beqanna for nearly a year, constantly looking for fleeting glimpses of the woman... being, who had found her in the middle of the night. Memories that were hazy, and moments that were stolen from her. Carli has remained here since that day, looking for that one who could help her remember exactly who and what had happened. She remembers almost nothing, but what she does remember, is that her wings had been changed, that day. No more were the feathers of the Reckoning on her body. Charged by the intoxication of pure magic, they had changed and flashed to the dragonfly wings that she had remembered so well. When the moment had ended, her canary-golden feathers had been burned away, revealing only the skin and membrane that was stretched across them like a naked mole rat stretching out in its burrow. There was nothing attractive about these wings, and yet she bears them proudly, as a Queen of old. She will get her magic back one day, And she will remember what happened.

One day.

But for now, Lior's presence--his return--is enough to balm the soreness of loneliness in her soul, and as she once again stamps down the hunger she has... she approaches him knowingly, purposefully keeping her distance, wondering what has brought him back to her this time. "It's a bitterly cold day to be out, Lior. But it is so good to see you. Though, it saddens me to see that there is no smile on your face. What can I do to change that?"

[Lior]

Charlemagne.
Carli.
Once queen of magic and lore.

The dark male is not surprised to see her appear from the wisp of gray landscape, gilded against the bleak forest with it's sleepy elms and hibernating bears. She is almost blinding to his adjusted silver eyes but her voice guides the direction of his dark head till he is able to look upon her properly through the thick of his forelock.

She stands steady, intriguing with smile and a pair of wings that seem as if they are made of glass. Lior tucks his own against his spine as he admires the way the sun fractures against the thinness of her appendages, creating small rainbows against the powdered snow. "Carli." Her name is offered as a greeting, gravely and dark like rainfall on hot stones. 'Good to see you again as well." He adds with a curt nod as he settles into the ground, hooves rooting momentarily in the slog of wetness. "What brings you to the forest?" The stallion disregards her question momentarily, uncertain why she would suggest changing his typical expression.

I want you to remember