"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
a dragon who couldn't be hurt on the outside could have so many ragged holes inside
He’s scouting, figuring that it might be useful to know if there’s someone near the borders. Though to be really honest with himself, it’s just to get a change of scenery. That, and Roseen is still pissed with him, he supposes. He can take a break from that. Thorgal is doing alright, at least.
Having passed through Hyaline just briefly he wonders when it’s safe to bring Chryseis over, too. Just to have her visit – she doesn’t need to stay in Hyaline all the time, as is his opinion, but perhaps Briseis doesn’t feel like letting their daughter out of the kingdom just yet. But maybe a trip with her father to see her grandma wouldn’t be such a problem?
And yet, there’s so many other family members just lurking around Beqanna… but he supposes that being the seventh of ten children, and so much time having passed while he was away (when two years turned out to be twenty), it was only natural. I mean, can you blame Shah for loving his wife that much?
Hmm. As a matter of fact he can’t really imagine Breckin also wanting ten kids like his mother, if she wants any at all in her busy life, so for the moment, he’s pretty safe. And has enough others to worry about, too.
HTML by Vanilla Custard, picture by x-celebri-x on deviantart
@[luster] @[Cimmerian]
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
His little eyes shined with excitement, darting from one corner of the trees to another as he alternated from walking beside his Momma to prancing away to check something out and then returning to her again. He loved these trips. He loved staying at home, too, but he did love these trips where they ventured away into new places, new trees, new smells.
He turned his face up to her with a bright smile as he slowed for her to catch up and walk together again, "Will we sleep away from home tonight?" They didn't really do that. It was so much safer at home. But maybe tonight would be different. It was still daytime, anyway, so they had a while yet.
A strange new smell surprised him though, stole his attention immediately and he galloped clumsily away to check it out with a new excitement in his bounding step. A man! With strange stuff on his coat!
"Wow, what is that!" he asked eagerly, always so impressed with new things and, boy, did he love to learn new things! Especially if they were magical! He didn't have his own magic, so it was such a thrill to learn as much as he could about all the magic in the world. His tiny velvet nose poked at the stranger's scales, fogged them up with a huffy hot breath, then pulled back to stare down at the polished result. "Wooooowww! Momma, look! I made him shiny! Isn't he pretty??"
There is always a twinge of worry in her chest when she watches him stray from her side, a little burr of sharp uncertainty when he wanders too close to the deep shadows beneath trees just out of her reach. She knows of the things that live in the dark - not soft, beautiful things like her Merry, made of the shadows cast by stars, of fractured dreams. It is usually the broken that the dark is filled with. Those who find solace in an hour where unease creeps.
But he doesn’t stray far from her, not far enough that she couldn’t reach him should something happen - certainly not far enough that her magic couldn’t defend him. So her expression stays soft and gentle, a tired smile stretched in velvet white across her lips. She is changing though, a weight in her expression that never used to be there - a weariness she felt in her bones, in the lessening ease of the light of her magic. It shows in the soft point of her hips through the mix of blue and black on her skin, in the long, traceable line of her shoulders where once it had only been smooth. No sign of her ribs though, so strange.
She blames the dreams for her exhaustion.
Always the same, always waking up before she can turn around and see the face of the man she knows she loves in that place.
Her tired smile widens, catches crookedly in one corner of her mouth as she reaches out to tug at Merry’s dark little ear with impossibly soft lips. “We can if you’d like,” she tells him conspiratorially, dropping her head lower to nuzzle his jaw, “we’ll have to find the perfect spot to camp.”
But then something snags his attention and he’s gone in a second, those small, gangly legs carrying him directly into the path of someone she does not know. Her softness is gone in a heartbeat, her own strong legs surging her forward so that she is beside Merry again by the time he has his nose pressed against the strangers scales. She is the very picture of quiet aggression, the promise of it etched into the tension of coiled muscle beneath her neck and along her flank, the harsh line of her jaw prominent as she meets the stallions gaze. Dark drifts like dust from her skin, fogging her outline, pooling in the hollow of her shoulders and hips. There are flecks of light there too, though not as much as there should be.
“Very pretty.” She agrees, but her tone is sharper now, those dark brown eyes unwavering from Leilan’s face. “Why don’t you come here to me, baby, it isn’t nice to touch strangers.” Tendrils of shadow wind up Leilan’s legs, not painful or restrictive, just soft. A warning though. Do not touch my boy. Another wraps around Merry’s little chest, tugging him so gently back to that spot he loves so much, nestled safely between her forelegs. “My name is Luster, who are you?” It’s not quite her usual soft greeting, gentle eyes and gentle smile, but it is the best she can offer until her little guy has stepped safely back from the imposing dragon-horse.
a dragon who couldn't be hurt on the outside could have so many ragged holes inside
One way or another - his thoughts have speung to life. Not literally perhaps; but there’s a black and white colt racing his way, totally mesmerized by the darker and lighter scales on his skin. The bay roan chuckles at the sight, in a way, the kid reminds him of Chryseis and Ophanim - they have no breaks when somethinf catches their eyes, as well.
His eyes are a soft aqua colour when he moves his head to watch the young boy, who’s breathing on him, and the condense accumulates in small droplets, indeed shining. The stallion doesn’t mind at all though - turns out he just really loves kids. Untamed and wild, or shy and reclused, they all find new things to explore, things adults would pass by or, avoid in fear. Like him, perhaps; his dragonlike appearance may put some people off.
”They’re scales, little man. Suppose I’m a half-lizard these days.” he shakes his head and grins, though as he temembers the sharp-looking teeth, quickly shuts his mouth to favour a smile. Better to not test the boy’s curiosity against his bravery.
He calls out to his mommy, and as prompted (already hurrying after the runaway colt), she rounds the corner and nears them. Surprised, the roan looks at her. Surely his thoughts on family and kids had been heard by a fairy, and they’d decided to play a joke on him. Her name is nothing to him, right away - but he’d be damned is she wasn’t related to Heartfire. Or Scorch. Dann, but that mixture of dark and light can’t help nagging at his brain.
She’s sharp though. Almost a little too much so, and he’s not too amused with the shadow tendrils sneaking up to him without having had a chance to get a word of defense in. Shaking one foreleg at them, he waits for the boy to move to her side again, or at least he half-heartedly expects him to do so. Children usually go back to their mothers when called, after all. Usually.
Shaking his mane, he looks at the blue roan mare again, head raised to meet her gaze with icy blue in his eyes, all traces of green gone by now. ”Leilan, please. Stranger doesn’t sound quite right.” Especially not if she was indeed a cousin of sorts. He tilts his head a little, mesmerizing. Still unsure. She’s both familiar and a complete stranger to him, but he’ll be damned if he asks when she’s on the fence like that.
HTML by Vanilla Custard, picture by x-celebri-x on deviantart
@[luster] @[Cimmerian]
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
"Very pretty" Momma said back, but it sounded different and he peeked over his shoulder at her. She was tense, and covered in shadows, and not as much light as there usually is... He tilted his head at that. But then, oh right. Away. Okay.
Merry slipped in a sneaky, apologetic smile at the man, pleased that he'd taught him what scales are, but sad that he had to go now. Momma had her shadows out and-- oh! His dusty blue eyes fell to the man's feet, where more shadows were sneaking up his new friend's legs. Oh! So sorry!
"I'm sorry!" he blurted out to him, as if it were his own doing that those big legs were getting loved on by shadows.
He dashed back between Momma's legs and rubbed his face on her. He's okay, see? The best momma ever, though. Look how strong and scary she is! Normally she was so very soft and sweet, but he loved how she made him feel so safe too. Not even a big dragon-man could hurt them. Not that he seemed like he would, maybe. Merry wasn't sure about such things, really. Momma knew way better.
The boy smiled up at the man when he gave his name, Leilan. That was nice. It reminded him of water, somehow. Like a valley lake, so very blue and calm and glittering under a bright sky.
"I think I like him, Momma," he whispered helpfully, accidentally loudly as children do, peering up at her from under her front legs, little forehead smooshed against her chest and nose straight up.
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