"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
He’d never been on a diplomatic mission before, let alone one so… solitary and resting solely on the young man’s shoulders. He was well past the age where he should be accepting some responsibility in the kingdom (the Chamber’s precocious princeling put the young dally-er to shame), but that sense of dedication had yet to appear. It might eventually (and maybe the reason was that he wasn’t meant to live in the Desert), but for now he sort of went through the motions, not really caring about promotions and whatnot.
It was something to keep him busy. It was a visit to somewhere he’s never been.
He’s not sure whether or not any of the Gates’ members had ever known Vanquish (he can see it in their faces sometimes, their surprise - and often heartache - at how much he looks like the late Desert King), or whether they even know much about the now long-passed change of rulers. Surely someone knew. Though when Gaza gazed upon the ethereal serenity of the land, he briefly wondered why anyone would want to leave this place.
He could live here forever, he thinks, just by himself. Zilpah was definitely missing out on this one… even if she was off on her Great Adventure.
Gaza lingers at the edge of the kingdom, unmoving in his need to take it all in. He seems an onyx statue, some war-time monument who’s lost his rider, though the reality is that he is utterly relaxed.
06-16-2015, 10:55 AM (This post was last modified: 06-16-2015, 11:21 AM by Wichita.)
Wichita
Mmmm clover, the little silver dapple thought as she happily munched on a rather green patch of it. She hadn't had anything so sweet in her old home, and not nearly as green and fresh. What simple pleasures in life she took. It was a normal day, a usual day for Wichita. One spent roaming the lands of the Gates seeing what new things she could find, new things she could see or learn about. Today was no different of course, though she wasn't currently doing much exploring with her mouth full now was she?
Shaking herself to rid of the insects that thought to rest on her backside, she looked up from her brunch. A scent had floated her way, a male scent,an unfamiliar male scent. This was not good news to Wichita, she still held a place of fear and resentment when it came to the opposite sex. So no surprise, she wasn't keen to be as accepting of this line-toer as she was the females from the Jungle that had visited not long ago. It was rather unfortunate that it wasn't just the scent that had crossed her path, for not far off she spotted the culprit at their borders. A massive black beast. He was standing just outside the lands, he was big. Bigger even than Voudou she might guess and he even favored the black mares breed a bit, with his size and deep black coat. She had hoped that he hadn't been too observant, as she tried to make herself invisible. She became a dark spot trying to conceal herself in the trees, watching with fear and curiosity. She hoped that soon one of her herd mates might approach, and provide her with a sense of security.
Was he fit for this job? Would he make them proud to call him their king? So many doubts, but there were no time to address them. He had offered himself to them, and would therefore step up to the plate left at the table by Camelia. Fiasko certainly seemed to be emerging from her shell, and to see her so sure of herself and her position made Mast smile. It was something, to see how the two of them had came full circle. Once they were both orphans, taken into the Gates and promised love and asked nothing in return. Now they were standing on the throne of the very same kingdom, ready to give back for everything she had done for them.
The summer time heat as made him feel lazy. Bright sunshine glares onto his ever-lightening coat, and he is hard pressed to keep a sigh from passing over his black lips. He can feel the heat go past his skin and soak right into his bones, and it takes an unnecessarily large amount of energy to flick his tail over his haunches. With a snort he shakes his head, hoping to clear the fog that was forcing its way into his brain. Better move he thought, and so the Arabian hybrid did. True, he moved through the kingdom without much purpose, but it was better than dozing under the sun at any rate. He moves into the trees, nodding his head in greeting to the forest creatures who’d came out to see him. Movement ahead catches his eye, and with a smile he falls in beside Witchita. “Hello Witchita.” he said, his voice low and friendly. It is only then that he notices the tension on her body, tightening every muscle including the ones that line her face. His smile falters, and he follows her gaze. Its then that he sees the newcomer, a black stallion of clear draft heritage. “Its ok…come with me.” he says to the nervous mare as he heads towards the newcomer. “Hello there!” he calls, closing the gap quickly (but not rushed). “Welcome to the Gates. I’m Mast.” he offers, and for a moment he is torn about whether he should tell the visitor that he is a king. He would wait, he decided…for titles meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. They certainly didn’t make him who he was at any rate.
Yeah… that clover really is kind of awesome. They don’t get stuff like that in the Desert.
Gaza is big, and like Vanquish, he must spend a lot of time eating. With no one in the immediate vicinity, he lowers his heavy head to graze. The grazing quickly turns into a sort of impromptu lawn mowing, and Gaza finds himself taken unawares. Oh man… what did they put in that stuff to make him so unobservant? His head jerks up, last mouthful of grass and all, and he grins sheepishly before quickly chewing and swallowing. Oops.
“Hi there. I’m Gaza. I’m uh, from the Desert. It’s nice to met you.” The young stallion pauses, literally improvising his way through the whole thing. “I suppose I’m here on official business.” Whatever that is - no one had really told him what to say or do. “But also, I’m kind of just exploring. This is a… very green kingdom. It’s lovely.”
His sincerity is apparent, for I’m not entirely sure Gaza has ever lied. There is simply no reason to. He has no ulterior motive, and the way he guzzles down the clover is evidence enough of that. I suppose you could call him a ‘nice, young Jewish man.’
She jerks, ahving been caught off guard. She had been paying too close an eye on the 'intruder' and not her surroundings. Tense muscles are for naught as she takes in the form of her King, Mast. She relaxes looking up from unsure chocolate orbs.
Her auds are pinned to her head in fear, similar to a shamed dog. He says it's okay and starts towards the stranger. Wichita looks reproachful for a moment, weighing her options in her head before reacting. Well, allrigh' if he says so, she thinks to herself. She trusts Mast so she decides to follow. Catching up, she stays ever so close to his heels, eyes downcast as they make an approach. They would send the biggest one of all, she thinks. Eyes shifting between the ground and the black bulk before them, she feels much smaller than usual.
Mast greets the other, words of welcoming flowing from his lips. He sounded so sure, so confident. Wichita felt everything but. The visitor introduces himself as well, he was called Gaza, and had come from the Desert. She is relieved to hear that he had come on business, that meant, diplomat. She struggles to speak, finally giving her moniker as well. "Hi there, I'm Wichita. It's nice to meet ya." Though was it really? Her voice was terribly small, and she didn't sound convinced herself.
Wichita is a mystery to him. She is friendly to be sure, but beneath that porcelain surface he detects a great sadness. He hopes, that in time, she’ll be able to cast her demons out and see the Gates for all its worth. He startles her, but he ignores it (he isn’t being rude, but rather he doesn’t want her to feel awkward for starting.) The king gives her a chance to recover, accompanied by an encouraging smile before walking off towards their visitor.
They head towards the newcomer, Mast ever welcoming with a slightly reproachful Wichita slightly behind. It doesn’t take them long to bridge the gap between native and foreigner, and Mast immediately notices the strong sent of salt and sand lingering on the others coat. It brings forth visions of golden seas and blistering heat, and the gray stallion knows at once he is from the Deserts. “Welcome, Gaza from the Deserts.” he said, dipping his regal head. It wasn’t very often they got visitors. “What official business does the Deserts bring us here at the Gates? And you’re welcome to explore. We certainly have enough grass here that we don’t mind sharing, do we Wichita?” He turns to the mare, encouraging her to join in on the conversation. And with that he falls silent, waiting expectantly.
mast
be my asleep at last
Ooc- sorry for the wait! I kind of lost the post, lol
