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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "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


    best have your wits about you [Lepis, Kwartz]
    #1
    Jesper knew this would be a long winter. He knew when he proposed this mission that he would feel alone and scared. He knew he would miss Lamb's tender kiss and, her soft gaze. He knew he would long for the warm, sandy beaches of Ischia. He knew this would challenge his will, his strength and, his very wit. He certainly was not on the brink of surrender; however, a little familiarity would be nice. Jesper saw Krone on his first day of captivity. Whom else was here as Morty's prisoner? Onyx male's thoughts switch to his visit with Mosrael - he had hoped she was not regretting giving him her reluctant support; that she was not fretting too much - where they met Lepis. Where was she now?

    Muscled haunches engage to push quad pillars into a casual saunter. He did not call out for fear of attracting too much attention. Instead, sensitive olfactory sense filters through the crisp winter air to locate the buttermilk hued former lady of Loess. Lobes prick forwards as stag heads in her direction while poll remains at a fairly relaxed height. That is, until a hint of the former Sylvan prince's cologne reaches his nares amongst the mildew of the forest. Cranium snaps up alertly and, bronze-tipped ears flatten as Jesper realizes just how vile Modicum is. Motion resumes though, this time, stallion picks his way through the dead foliage scattered on the forest floor to a location between the two. He again decides to offer no verbal summons. Rather, he idly waits, hoping his familiar musk is enough to attract Lepis and/or, Kwartz to him.
    jesper
    carnage x bethanie
    devin's∇designs


    @[Lepis] @[Kwartz]
    Reply
    #2
    There is a hard cold knot of something buried deep in my chest. It had taken root during my last conversation with Arthas, and while it has not grown (I will not let it), neither has it become any easier to bear. It is easiest to ignore when I am weary, I have found. This has led to days spent running, darting through the copper forest and leaping over the rocky outcroppings. It is a miracle I have not yet broken a leg, though at times I wonder if that pain might not distract me all the better.

    No, best not to venture down that path of thought. It's too easy to get lost there.

    I have just finished such a run, and the heat steams from my golden skin as I walk through the shallow snow. I run farther each day, and the last vestiges of my childish figure have slipped away as Sylva has sunk deeper into winter. I am now a mare grown, and at times I hardly recognize my reflection when I drink from the icy streams.

    I see movement from the corner of my eye and freeze, only my flicking ears and flaring blue nostrils moving to identify the source. There, a bit downwind, is a dark stallion. I think at first it is Modicum Mortem, and debate the advantages of continuing to move away. He is useful when it comes to distraction, but conversation with him is a reminder of why I am here, and I am not quite in the mood for that.

    But no, it's not the king at all. It's Jesper, who I have not seen since the announcement of his captivity. He has been kept busy by the other residents of the forest, I've assumed, and as I move close I can see the effect they can have on him.

    Only when I am standing directly in front of him do I realize that I do not know what to say to him. I can't very well ask if he is enjoying his time in Sylva. My lessons had been in social niceties, not in addressing prisoners. I settle for a "Hello," though it sounds a bit forced from my unsmiling blue mouth
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    #3
    It hadn't taken long to fall into the rhythm of the woods. There were new faces, which he predominately avoided, choosing instead to keep to his old haunts. The familiar surroundings felt surreal. This was where he'd been born, where he'd played as a foal. This was home, wasn't it? That was what he'd been telling himself since his first conversation with Modicum. That conversation had given him a lot to consider. 

    Was he an innately menacing creature? Hardly. However, he couldn't get it out of his mind. He wasn't the evil one. No, quite the opposite! He was the victim here. Mother hadn't cared enough to give him the truth. Klaudius hadn't dared to give it to him either, the coward. What had he been so afraid of? There'd been so many opportunities. So much wasted time. And now it was too late, for all of them. 

    With a grunt of annoyance, the winged youth realized he'd been grinding his teeth. Stretching out his jaw he paused, resting his forehead against the rough bark of an accommodating walnut tree. Kwartz squeezed his eyes shut. A few rough breathes slowed his heart back to a reasonable pace. A familiar odour infiltrated his nostrils, opening his eyes with surprise. For a moment he just stood there. That scent was woven through the edges of his childhood, and he briefly considered fading into the shadows of his homeland. It was tempting, but also unrealistic. He was stronger than his parents. He could face this. 

    He found them nearby, Jesper and an unfamiliar mare. The inky stag was reminiscent of the new ruler of the woods, though his face held a kindness foreign to Modicum. Today that expression was tempered with worry and weariness. The gold and lavender lad observed the pair, took note of the the tense atmosphere. He smiled faintly, dipping his head in greeting. "Jesper. I didn't expect to see you here." He commented mildly, before turning to the pale woman. "You'll have to excuse me miss, but I don't think we've met. I'm Kwartz. Jesper and I go pretty far back." It was true enough. Jesper has come to Sylva not long after the ex-prince had been born. Had he stayed after Sabra had abdicated? The girl is as weary looking as Jesper, her skin still steaming in the chill from recent exertion. She's pretty, he registered dimly, not sure if that mattered or not. Really, he can't bring himself to feel much of anything these days. 

    @[Jesper] @[Lepis]
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    #4
    Bronze-tipped lobes flick to the side as soon as the crunch of dead foliage beneath someone’s hooves betrays their approach. Poll lifts to give aquamarine gaze better vantage point before cranium swivels slightly to the left. Glossy pools focus upon the buttermilk maiden as she draws to a halt. Ears remain forward facing and, onyx stallion does his best to melt away his fatigued expression with the relief her presence brought. She is all right. He has not harmed her, male muses to himself. Of course, he had no clue what the exact terms of her captivity entail but, how could he trust the clown? Dark thoughts are silenced with her gentle greeting and, in return, labrums curve into a soft smile.

    Jesper is about to reply until his lobes catch the approach of yet another. Weight shifts to allow steed to pivot around forelimbs. Jet-black male positions himself between the oncomer and, Lepis, with poll held high in alert. Chassis tenses in anticipation and, smile fades from whiskered lips. As the winged form of Kwartz emerges from the shadows, entire physique relaxes. He had grown, considerably, since their last meeting. His facade bears a maturity that resembles the young male’s parents. His golden and soft purple hues are more prominent, more distinct now. His body language suggests apprehension though, he offers a warm greeting and, onyx steed returns the gesture. Poll bobs in mutual greeting before labrums stretch into a soft smile once more. Sigh of relief flutters out of external nares and, weight shifts as if to shake out the remaining stiffness.

    Following Kwartz’s introduction, Jesper decides it best to speak next. He keeps his volume low and, his tone soft, just in case of an eavesdropper lurking in the shadows. ”I am relieved to see you both physically unmarred. Has Morty hurt either of you?” Aquamarine gaze softens and deepens as he meets Lepis’ slate eyes and, Kwartz’s one dilute hazel eye. He did not remember the boy being blind in one eye; however, he regrets not being closer to him: physically and emotionally. He waits to continue until both reply and finds his facial features tense with concern during this time. He swallows in angst before voice box pipes up again. Jesper was unsure of how much time they had and, he wanted to make sure they knew they were not forgotten. Ladies first. His tone is gentle though, laced with the earnest sincerity he held for her safety. ”Lepis, following my last visit, my comrade and I were able to deliver the news that you are here. Brennen knows. I do not know how long your prison sentence is but, the brotherhood wants to help.”

    Jesper turns to Kwartz and, finds his words easily enough; however, his tone wavers a bit more. He is careful not to sound like he is speaking to a child but, rather, to the handsome stag before him. ”Kwartz, you are becoming such a strong lad. I do not know what Morty intends to do with you but, please, be careful. The clown tried to steal me from Ischia; however, he was unsuccessful. He tried again and, I volunteered as his prisoner. I am here to learn all I can about the new Sylva, no matter the cost.” Poll lowers and, long-lashed eyelids close over orbs as the pain from his most recent encounters resurfaces. Jesper shakes his head to subdue the reminder before he goes on. ”I can tell you from personal experience, Morty cares only about his personal agenda which, is to cause maximum chaos at the sake of sanity. He can not be trusted. When I am released, I will personally see to your rescue. I am sorry your mother failed you, Kwartz. I truly am. There is a place for you with me if you care to join. I would be honored if you would consider it.” Labrums curve into the warmest smile possible as the last words leave his lips. Concluding his warm gesture, Jesper reaches his muzzle out to offer an affectionate bump against the young male’s muzzle. The touch comes from a newfound paternal desire rather than literal affection; a desire he is certain Lavendel is the sole spark of.
    jesper
    carnage x bethanie
    devin's∇designs


    @[Lepis] @[Kwartz]
    Reply
    #5
    The sound of more hooves distracts me, and I turn my head to see an unfamiliar figure making his way toward us. He is brightly colored even in these fiery woods, and he does not seem too far from me in age. To him I offer a slightly more comfortable smile - I have no reason to think he is a captive in the way that I know Jesper to be.

    They seem to know each other though, and I watch curiously, introducing myself just after Kwartz does.

    "I'm Lepis," I tell him, curious just how far the two of them go back, but aware that now is not the time to ask. Instead, I look back to Jesper, who has begun to speak in a low tone, as though fearful of being overhead. I take a moment to look around us, but neither see nor hear anyone nearby. Puzzle, I look back just as he mentions being glad to see us both unharmed.

    Why would I be harmed? The confusion is apparent in the frown that wrinkles the blue cobwebbing across my forehead. I know exactly what type of gift I was intended to be for the kingdom of Sylva, but the red-nosed king will have no use for me until the trees in the rest of Beqanna match those of this kingdom. I do not answer Jesper's question, but when he tells me that the Brotherhood wants to help me, the confused frown I had been wearing hardens into something different.

    "I'm not a captive." I reply. "What makes you think I need your help?" I am here because Arthas told me to be, not against my will. I have always had help if I were ever to need it; does something about me scream 'damsel in distress'? (It does, of course, but not for the reason that Jesper seems to think.)

    "You shouldn't have volunteered." I add, because exactly how foolish does one have to be to volunteer to be a prisoner. I consider my own situation to be entirely different, I am here to serve Modicum Mortem's needs, but I am not a punching bag for the entire kingdom the way that Jesper seems to be. The older stallion is now speaking to Kwartz, and I gather from his questions that the two have known each other since the tobiano was a child. Long time friends, then.
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