"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
And the funny thing? She hadn't stepped a hoof outside of Nerine since the contagion. Icicle Isle what? You think this bald, ancient rat-looking horse could survive on an ice cube, never mind the northernmost cliff side kingdom? That's hilarious.Even if she ever did catch the plague, Icicle Isle would be the last place she turned to; that being said, the mare had chosen to stay in Nerine regardless of the possibility of sickness.
With every breath she took, she risked infection; but she yet breathed the air of the ancient Amazons, and that alone was enough to anchor her to this dismal hunk of land, through hell and high water. She stood for all her Sisters who no longer could, for those who died in the name of the Jungle. "The Cliffs" didn't have quite the same ring to it, but the title of Leviathans at least matched that of Amazons. It wasn't the same - and it never would be - but Nerine served its purpose in its own right, to its own kind of completion.
She thought upon these matters close to the border of the kingdom, tucked into the gnarliest part of the pine forest in an attempt to recreate the sensation of being Jungle-bound. The mental distraction was good for the mare, though the trees were better, as they sheltered her from the brunt of the cold winds which so made her curse Nerine. Although the light filtered in as it might have before, the lack of vines and the lack of jaguars and the lack of hot humidity left much to the work of the imagination.
Sighing heavily, Scorch looked at a spot ahead of her and began manipulating the mixing light and dark. Twisting and shaping, she slowly built the image of a leopard, silvery and ghost-like; and though she knew the light-fixture resembled the Jungle spirit only in shape and not in heart or soul, she smiled, watching it stalk to and fro in slow liquid motion.
How silly she had been, to think she had been tired before.
Before the emergence of the Plague. Before the merging of the two kingdoms. Before the thorn in her side that Icicle Isle was becoming. Before pregnancy.
Exhaustion and confusion weighted her down, split between personal qualms and the best interests of her kingdom and the people who shared it with her. What of the ones on the Isle? What should she do to help them? Could she even help them? As much as she would like to keep the Isle within Nerine's grasp, it was beginning to feel like there was a rift developing somewhere between the two territories, definitely not one for the better. Perhaps it would be best to call back the Nerinians who had gone there, if they chose to come back at all, and sever all ties to the frozen island for now. Wait and see who would come to power and then try to come to terms of an alliance. But the others that remained on the Isle left a hollow feeling in the pit of her gut, enabling a feeling of unease at the obvious ill-intentions they felt towards the infected. They might come to be satisfied and placated temporarily situated upon their barren isle, but would their distasteful ambitions fester and escalate? Driving them off the island in an attempt to exterminate the Plague ridden?
Regardless her conflicting thoughts--a direction would have to be marked, and a choice would have to be made.
And is all bloody, fucking ridiculous is what this is, she muttered to herself as she wove rapidly between wide trunks, unexpectedly passing the silver spectre of a large feline prowling nearby. With a sideways glance and a small smile, she moved into the light the creature cast, dark eyes shifting from the phantom to its weaver.
"Sister, I apologize for disturbing you, but I need your advice," she admits, "And Brennen's also." Though the bay stallion was not physically there, she understood he had a way of easily coming to know things, and she hoped that the way that she had spoken his name aloud in subtle desperation would be enough to gain his attention.
"This affair with Icicle Isle...a decision has to be made in regards to Nerine's involvement, and my thoughts are conflicted. I'd like to know what your thoughts are on Leilan and Camomila's claim benefiting Nerine, and the two stranger's claims whose intentions are questionable and leave me feeling wary and skeptical in light of envisioning our distant future. Or should we allow all of Nerine to decide upon a choice."
Resettling her weight to balance over a singular hoof, she meets the gaze of Scorch directly, her previously hard gaze softening a degree, "I also need your advice on motherhood, Sister. I have no knowledge and quite frankly the thought of this pregnancy and birthing scares me more than the concept of the Plague. Do you think I should stay on Nerine for the child's birth, or should I go to a safe haven when that time comes?" As undesirable as the situation was, she'd come to accept that she would bear a life this season, regardless if she was happy about it or not, and during a time when chaos poured through all of Beqanna. And it made her wonder if it would be a poor choice of an expectant mother to bring this life into the susceptible place that her home currently was.
so give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light 'cause oh that gave me such a fright
He knows, that Breckin wants him. The same way he had known when family stepped foot on his island, and the way that he had known when Leilan’s distress spiked in Icicle Isle. It’s a super handy trick he’s gained, and surrounded by this much water, not even a drop in the bucket in terms of power, so the mental ‘net’ stays up all the time. He himself is on the island, keeping an eye on Scorch’s most (in his opinion) worrying offspring. There’s a new presence here, one more powerful that the power-augmenter, and he’d rather someone be here to back Leilan up if he stumbles into the more powerful presence and pisses it off. Still, it seems to be stale-mate at least at this precise moment, and so Brennen answers their need, vanishing from the snow and ice and reappearing between the trees between his lover and his new Queen.
The bay stallion tucks his dark wings tight against his side, pondering that he needs to spend more time in the sky. He’d been so good at first to only teleport occasionally, for the practice, but lately everything has felt so urgent and he hasn’t taken to the sky in what feels like ages. He steps up beside Scorch, running his muzzle down her shoulder in wordless but affectionate greeting, and turning his chiseled head to offer a little smile to Breckin – no less affectionate, even in its solemnity. “Of course you can always have our advice,” he murmurs, and settles in to listen.
“I’m less conflicted than you,” he admits when she is finished. “The fae have told us only one land will remain a true Kingdom; if we renounce our claim on Icicle Isle, we will face these strangers in conflict again, and risk becoming a subkingdom of them. I would have told you that we were more than a match for Phasus and her cronies, but there is something else there now – something I’d rather face now, than allow to fester and set in to be faced later.” There is a worried look in his eyes, something he doesn’t bother to mask because he trusts the two mares; in other company he would have been mild and unconcerned. “If Leilan and Camomila take the Isle, I feel safer about them as neighbors. And, honestly, Leilan could use the responsibility.”
Breckin and Leilan have some sort of…thing; he knows this, but that makes him certain that she knows his quirks as well as she knows his strengths. In Brennen’s opinion, the responsibility to hold Icicle Isle, and play nice with their new friend, would only help to give Leilan some maturity and perspective. “That’s in addition to it’s value as a safe place. I know it’s cold,” he flicks an amused smirk at Scorch, completely aware of her refusal to go visit it, “But it’s not uninhabitable. We have healers, but we don’t know the scope of this disease. There’s no guarantee that we will be able to heal everyone, so better to save the chances for when we really need them.”
He has no input directly on birthing or motherhood; his role as a father is perhaps ten steps removed, but no less important. Still, it’s not the same. He stays quiet on this front, simply pressing close to Scorch and doing a mental check on his own children. The littlest ones first – Blue, the twins, little Tocca that he’d only discovered briefly before departing Ischia. Then he progresses onto older children, and grandchildren, and Brothers, sisters; a mental rundown of everyone important to him. No one seems to be in mortal peril right this second, so he stays, waiting patiently for more discussion or instructions.
but I will hold as long as you like just promise me we'll be alright
The Khaleesi came to her mentor without hesitation upon witnessing the hollow specter, the liquid silver cat an undeniable pull even to those who would not recognize it any more. Decades had passes since the spirit of the Jungle roamed her own rain forests in this form, blessing the Sisters with her presence during meetings and occasionally meeting up with them in private, too. Breckin would not know this, but she came regardless, the word Sister on her lips in the age-old greeting.
Scorch looked away from her creation, though it remained perfectly shaped. She had summoned this image more times than she could count, longing as she always had for a time that would never again come to Beqanna. A soft dip of her head excused any disturbing that Breckin seemed concerned about; she would always be here to give advice, though these days her thoughts felt broken and useless. She cared more about being a mother to her youngest daughter than she did about the plague - backwards, perhaps, but true.
Brennen appeared, as magicians would - Scorch was reminded immediately of her brother Errant who was wont to do the same - with plenty of time to spare upon hearing the urgency of his queen's murmurings. His lips found Scorch effortlessly, pressing some semblance of sanity into the pores of her mutilated skin. She turned to him and did the same, running her cracked lips along the sleek line of his neck, wondering where he had been and whether he had been safe in doing so.
"With your magic, it seems almost possible to revive her," she commented offhandedly, looking to the specter. The mare did not say more on the subject, knowing that he could not and not needing to tell him so for him to know. After a pause, Scorch refocused her attention, what remained of her ears perking to hear that which Breckin had to say.
Ah, Icicle Isle - this mother fucking bullshit again.
Stifling her useless anger, Scorch snapped the bone of her tail (hairless, as with the rest of her), a habit that had not died despite the fact that she lost her coat at the age of four, when now she was nearly sixty. Grinding her jaw and flicking her ears in displeasure, the mare listened to Brennen's rationale before deciding to add any of her own thoughts. After all, she had yet to forgive Leilan and Castile for their impulsiveness some months prior; it would be all too easily to speak rashly of them and theirs, if she did not give herself time to temper her words beforehand.
"Whether or not Leilan could use the responsibility is debatable, but I trust that he would defer to your judgement, Breckin. Well - even that sounds fake when I say it, but there is no one else who it could be besides him. And I agree that we ought to maintain a leading presence on the Isle, for the sake of nullifying potential competition when the time comes to establish the Kingdom, which will of course be Nerine."
"That being said, I also have no idea who this Camomila character is. But, I also defer to your judgement. As for the child... It will be free of the plague in the Isle, but there are magics there that will threaten its existence. I cannot imagine what I would do in such a position. I can't imagine leading in this shitstorm of a time."
Scorch
Once Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle
@[Breckin] sorry she isn't more helpful, I had to rush *cries*
As she had hoped, having noticed her wanting to talk to both him and Scorch, Brennen materializes between them. She watches with intrigue as they greet each other rather affectionately, and she cannot help the silly grin that slopes the line of her lips. "Hello Brennen," she greets with a return smile, albeit, hers is still much larger. The memory of the pair of them finding her lost within the expanse of the Field begs to be relived then, but as much as she'd love to lose herself in happier shadows of the past, now is not the time. Stifling both her lapsing thoughts and the grandeur of her smile to something significantly smaller, she waits for their responses in respective turns.
"Perhaps one day, you can share one of your memories of her with me," she says with a distant voice after following Scorch's gaze to the twilight jaguar. For the briefest of moments, she thinks of the lengthy Amazonia history, and it makes her wonder if Beqanna has ever seen anything like this plague outbreak before.
"Then we do what we can to support Leilan and Camomila's claims," she says when they have both giving their thoughts. She's relieved to find that their opinions that she values so deeply fall into place with her own initial thoughts. But it was soothing to hear them say it, and it put some ease on her mind knowing that Nerine could easily mark a course now. "As you said Brennen, it would most likely only be a matter of time before they would rise to pose a threat to Nerine later, should we not try to deal with them now. But I would rather deal with the issue of these strangers without killing anyone, if possible." The last bit is an afterthought, knowing fully well that bloodshed might come to pass in one form or another, but hopefully without the loss of any life in its wake. "I trust Leilan's judgement of Camomila if he sees her as an adequate co-ruler. And I would agree," she pauses momentarily for a single laugh, "leading might be good for him."
Sighing softly, she reshifts her weight, and her gaze finds Scorch's vibrant one easily, "I think shitstorm is putting it lightly." Leading was difficult in general, but she was quickly learning in times of crisis the level of difficulty exceeded all of her fathomable limits. "We'll get through it." She smiles at them in appreciation, dipping her head politely in acknowledgment, ""I should let you both go. Thank you for taking the time to talk with me."
She turns to leave, but one last thought has her stop and pivot back. "Scorch, to give the newborn its best chance, I believe I will go to a safe haven very temporarily for when that time comes. I won't be able to protect it forever, but at least I can give them a chance to gain some strength first." Mild sadness is evident in the lines of her expression, sorry that she would not be able to bear this unexpected child into a better place and time, and sorry that she wouldn't be able to do it in Nerine. "I know you'll watch over Nerine for me when that time comes."
With one last smile of resolution, she turns and fades into the thickness of the forest.
@[Scorch] @[Brennen] you don't have to reply if you don't want to. just wanted something quick
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