"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
05-28-2019, 12:02 PM (This post was last modified: 05-28-2019, 12:03 PM by Felicitey.)
Her tail twitched it excitement as she followed her mom farther inside Pangea's borders, twisting and turning through the cliffs and caverns towards her father. She had spent the last few weeks wondering what he was like always with a goofy, lopsided grin plastered to her face. The thought of him filled her with excitement and curiosity. Mom had told her that she hadn't known him very well, Obviously, since I was not expecting a lion cub as a child. Felicity TRY to stay in your equine form. she thinks sometimes its hard for mama to physically love her when she couldn't control transitioning back and forth between her gold and brown cub body and the golden buckskin filly she was deep down. OR was she a cub deep down? The question only lingered for a second before her attention was pulled to her companion sitting comfortably in the crook of her neck, and her body shifted to soft paws disturbing the dusty ground beneath her.
She scampered quickly through the opening in front of her as mama had turned the corner and vanished out of sight for just a minute. Giving out a playful growl/squeak she rounded the corner following Nimue. The sun spilled across the golden cliffs as they settled on a plateau looking out across a canyon that settled deep into Pangea. Dexter gave out a small purring howl that coaxed Felicitey to let out another playful roar.
She watched as her mother side eyed her and her monkey companion for a moment, before rolling her eyes and calling out for her father, Litotes... Litotes where are you she said in hopes that he was near. Giving a small huff of frustration she cocked her head towards the edge of the cliff and unfurled her wings taking off towards the ground below in search of her father. She'd follow she thought as she inched towards the edge of the plateau, if she could rely on her body to stay equine long enough for her wings to fly her where she wanted. She huffed in frustration as Dexter groomed her floppy deaf ear. She wanted to fly like mama, but mama wouldn't even let her attempt that yet!
felicitey
who do you think you are? collecting your jar of hearts.
@[litotes] opening it up for a meeting between the two before Nimue comes back all frustrated lol
He could accidentally scare her into almost falling off the plateau since she's deaf in her left ear.
isn't it lovely all alone, heart made of glass, my mind of stone
She wavers on the edge of Pangea, staring with almost expressionless eyes. Almost, because sometimes there is a flicker of something; a spark of amusement, a flash of annoyance, but always so quick and fleeting. Today, there are just glimpses of curiosity glinting in the purple-black of her irises, even if what she sees at first is not terribly interesting. Pangea is a network of canyons, split by a river that lazes along at a pace that is almost infuriatingly slow. From where she stands, she can see the darkness that lingers above the heart of the territory, and below it the gaping crater that caves inwards to the earth. It was a peculiar land, and one that she had only heard her mother mention briefly. Islas didn’t ask many questions about their family, and Ryatah offered even less answers.
Pangea had been an accidental slip of information, and truthfully, Islas isn’t sure why she’s here, or what could be gained from coming here.
The air was warm here, but suffocatingly so. It was not a sweet summer like the rest of Beqanna, but instead something hot and relentless, as though the shadows above were trapping the heat until she choked on it. She presses onward regardless, ignoring when her mane begins to cling to her neck that grows damp with perspiration, lending an almost iridescent sheen to her unnaturally white skin.
She isn’t sure why the lion cub catches her attention, and she especially isn’t sure why she approaches. It isn’t because something tells her she should be afraid of a predator – besides, this one was clearly too small to bring her any harm – but more so because Islas rarely let anything draw her in. But in a matter of moments, she is drawing alongside the young girl and her companion, and while it was difficult to discern with the girl in this form, she ventured to guess that she was younger than the year old she herself was. “Are you going to jump, or are you just staring?” There is an odd bluntness to her voice, even though it is not meant to be hostile. Perhaps if she had allowed a smile to soften her face, she would not have seemed so frigid, but as it is, she simply stares at the girl with a look of guarded interest.
Islas
@[Felicitey] @[litotes]
I figured we would wait for Phae to reply to with Lie, but Islas was bored and has been meaning to come to Pangea (:
but you’d never get hit without earning it
and i only hit you first ‘cuz i deserved my own hit too
still it comes the time to call you out
since i’m the one that you should be about
What child the Archon has are mostly unknown to him. There are his adopted children, Valek (who he cannot help but keep at arm’s length), and those he knows he bore. The terror twins, Daisi, Rayie, Brunhilde, Kelynen, Austra and Isilme . . . and a few others he has no idea exist. He does not dwell on that, now; how can one dwell on children that are not alive? Perhaps the few that wander alone will stumble upon him, but Beqanna is large; for now, the cremello remains ignorant.
His loyalty to Kensa remains steadfast, all infidelities not quite infidelities if they were not quite . . . together. The only outlier is Nimue Isolde, though even she exists in that strange limbo between together and apart. There is Lie’s world with Kensa, and Lie’s world without Kensa - there is no in between, and no lover who will take over her.
He is pondering his children when he stumbles upon the fillies. They stand upon a cliffside, their backs facing him. Litotes cocks his head to the right, curious eyes glimmering with near-delight. Children visiting Pangea? How unheard of, even scandalous. He remains still for a moment, debating whether or not he truly cares to catch them from the edge. Apathy and boredom scratch at the back of his mind, but in the end his paternal spirit wins.
A wisp of shadow twists out in front of the cremello as he approaches, wrapping around the winged filly with gentle force. He means to tug the girl back from the edge, concern for the size of her wings furrowing his brow. Islas, quite a stoic teenager, seems to care not for whether the buckskin stays or goes, and the stallion spares her a mild frown.
“Are your wings even big enough to be jumping off of cliffs?” Litotes sidles up next to the little one as he speaks, golden eyes observing her appearance with fascination. It is when they pass over her girlish face that he realizes -
“Oh, shit.”
The words tumble from his mouth before he can stop them. He sighs: “Yeah, I’m your dad.”
in the short few moments of contemplation she had shifted between equine and lion many times over, landing delightfully on lion cub. She sometimes preferred this form. It gave her better control of her balance and was all together easier to navigate.
The starlight white filly startled her as she walked up beside her. Her attention had been on the cliffs edge, even though she was pretty sure Dexter had attempted to warn her. She had never been very good at listening, literally.
The suddenness of the other horse provoked an involuntary shift, once again, into her equine form. Her wings drew away from her body slightly catching a way ward summer breeze that was far and few between. However, the breeze had been just strong enough to inch her closer to the cliffs edge. Her hooves scraped against the dusty stone as she brought her wings back in stopping at a concerning distance from the edge.
Are you just going to jump, or are you just staring the older girl said with no concern trailing on her voice. I was still debating when you surprised me. You should really work on your entrances, you could kill someone. she said, defiance and a hint of irritation in her voice. The attitude didnt stick around long though, she was always up for making new friends. Are you from here? she asks the girl.
Almost as the words fall from her mouth a wispy curl of black shadows curl around her pulling her back from the dangerous edge. HEY! What is... she began pushing against the force once she was a comfortable distance from what could be her last attempt of flying.
She twisted her golden face to see where the inky tendrils originated from, ready for a fight, her silver snowflakes shining a shade brighter as her mismatched eyes narrowed. Her eyes landed on a large, cremello stallion who proceeded to ask if her wings were even big enough to fly. Her good ear perked in curiosity while her other flopped lazily. Dexter had laid along her neck almost hiding beneath her fluffy, black mane finger gripping unnecessarily tight.
The stallion proceeded to drop a naughty word and Felicjtey giggled in turn, but it was short lived as he proceeded to tell her that he was her father.
Her jaw hung in surprise, speech seemed to allude her in this moment. One eye swimming in her fathers gold and the other in her mothers blues all she could do was search his face, his snowflakes mirroring hers. Litotes she breathed in a whisper.
felicitey
who do you think you are? collecting your jar of hearts.
