"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
Her mane was entangled with thorns and twigs, created in a mess of autumn morning wind. Trees around her—half naked and half clothed—allowed subtle light to escape through orange, red, and yellow blinds. As she exhaled, the soft crunch of fallen leaves crushing beneath her weight echoed in her ears against a silent backdrop.
It was a crisp morning, frost coating the tree trunks like silver spray paint. Nothing but the distant coo of song birds breaking the air. Her wings wrapped around her like a security blanket, hiding the scars along her ribs as if to pretend they never even existed.
Laying down was often a vulnerable position, but for Brine it was her only escape to safety.
Her blue roan coat was tainted from ill-kempt feathers and lack of bathing, a dull smoky black verses the vibrant shimmery blue she could sometimes be. Her throat was heavy, her body malnourished. It was as if the little bird had no ambition to live at all. Perhaps she didn’t.
It may very well be her intention to laze about her life until eventually her body withers away into a pile of broken feathers, and dust.
Sometime, during the night, Iron had scaled one of the trees.
He lay the length of a bough thick enough to support him, as just the tip of his tail twitched from side to side amidst the blazing leaves and barer branches around him. The panther knew that he was decently concealed despite the constant barrage of wind that shook the leaves loose from their twiggy moorings and scattered them all along the ground. Up here, he was content to be alone with nothing but the sighing of the wind through the trees. Sometimes, he smelled the horses passing below and it stirred vague thoughts of hunger and the hunt in him but the horse-part of his brain balked at them.
Iron did not hunt his own kind.
Not for food or sport.
He could have napped but the quiet crunch of leaves underfoot roused him. One yellow eye cracked open and he angled his head just so to give him a better view of below. At first all he could see was the burning miasma of color that came from the leaves still clinging to the branches of the tree but gradually, he began to make out something else - a horse! Only a mare that looked rather sorry and unkempt which accounted for the awful stink crowding his nostrils as he chuffed from up above her. She seemed in dire need of a bath and some grass to fatten her up just a little. Her rank smell made him scrape his claws along the sides of the bough that held him.
By the stars, she needed some care!
Iron did not think he was the sort to give it to her as he climbed to his full height then padded out to the end of the branch and leapt gracefully down to the ground. It just so happened to be close to her since she picked that spot to lay down in. “Giving up?” he asked in a growly sort of tone before sitting back on his melanistic haunches, the tip of his tail still just twitching from side to side like a metronome. There was no grin on his face - it’d be full of teeth and probably just frighten her anyway but the look he gave her was simply one of concern.
@[Brine] forgive the crappy post. i usually play him in tandem with his twin sister so him separate is a bit new to me lol. but i love brine, love stalking her! <3
12-20-2017, 02:40 PM (This post was last modified: 12-20-2017, 02:44 PM by Brine.)
He lands in front of her, an elegant graceful decent paired with an even more regal expression. Her body tensed at the scent of feline, her brown eyes carefully tracing the muscles through his shoulders, landing eventually at his vibrant yellow eyes filled with precision and accuracy. Her knotted stomach continued to curl and tighten.
Perhaps today was her day, our little songbird finally at the mercy of a cat. Though she was larger than a finch, and he was far more deadly than a house pet. The odds, as usual, were not in her favour, and yet she still felt at peace. Suffering deserves the merciless act of murder, yes?
“Giving up?” she echoed him, her voice still filled with a false sense of security and boldness—what used to be, and what was. Like a broken vase, she was once beautiful. Now however, a mess on the floor and only a nuisance to be cleaned and tossed.
“Hm…” Her pondering was not discrete. Brine was as her mother was. Exemplary had been too much of a bleeding heart; she wouldn’t be her mother’s daughter had she become master of hidden secrets. Her eyes looked distantly, the tree line only feet from her reach, making the run for safety almost tempting.
But then, what if our little songbird was caught? Then she would just be a loser. Not good enough. So close, yet so far.
No, it is far easier on her tainted mind to give up before trying, than try and fail.
“Hungry?” She ended up retorting, her head lifting in a false show of courage and acceptance, though our little bird had never been an actress.
B r i n e
@[Iron] I am so so excited you posted with me! I love your writing always, and I am so flattered you creep Brine (: Bear with me... I am still getting the hang of her as well!
Iron knew his stare was paralyzing.
Predator and prey. Except he felt no thrill in looking her over. No desire to sink his teeth into her skull until he pierced her brain in the final blow that would deliver her over into death’s cold open arms. It would be so very easy to do though! The tiniest bit of temptation explodes in his gut but to her, it looks like nothing more than the clench of his jaw in a much firmer set against the impulse that seeks to incite him to the task at hand - devouring her.
Only his eyes do just that - devour her.
She echoes him, faint and faraway for all that she is right in front of him. He could bat a paw at her nose if he thought to. That is how close he’d come to her in his panther shape and her, larger though she lay there in a broken tumble of fur and bone. Those bones seemed frail enough to pick his teeth with! But he gave a small disparaging shake of his head as she pondered over her newfound plight. His eyes tracked hers to the treeline behind him, his head turning to consider the thing that made her look beyond him into the distance.
Iron could not read minds but he could read the look in her eyes and knew she thought of making a run for it. He scooted his melanistic behind over further as if to given an invitation to try it. Cat or not, he’d not stop her if she truly meant to flee him. Nor could he blame her - she laid beneath a tree, perchance to dream, and found instead a panther black as night sitting before her and talking to her like there was no difference between night and day.
“Hungry?” she trills from her spot on the earthen floor.
Iron blinks his yellow eyes at her. Like seeing her again for the first time. What a bold little thing she is! Given that she is in a state of shambles and he’d meant to care - he did, but it is hard to be caring in this shape, he supposes. Panthers are not suitable for comfort. Is a stallion any better? He can control the shift now and almost thinks to do it but it is in his nature to toy with the little bird, so he shifts only his twitching tail to one of horsehair that fans out behind his lean cat-haunches.
His mouth splits into a smile, all teeth but he can’t help that. “Not any more, not enough meat on those bones little bird.” comes his reply.
@[Brine] I love her and you! Your writing is fabulous and like I said in cbox, I never could muster up the courage to post to her before but I do so enjoy stalking her. Until now because I need Brine words lol. She is positively adorable! I'll bear with you figuring her out if you can bear with me figuring Iron out.
