[open] wish you weren't so frickin' awkward, bud.

[wrena]

No matter their age or what has happened to or between them, these girls will always be constantly bickering but fiercely loyal sisters. Each girl has their role, their mother too but she is off on one of her frequent wanderings. They’re getting longer between now, their mother’s trips and Oleandar knows she is preparing her daughters for a final departure – to join their Grandmother at the beach. Wrena doesn’t think about such things, so we do not know her opinion yet, but it likely one of smothered sadness masked in fiery venom (her usual way of dealing with sad things, or anything).

It is a cool summer night, an open sky with a few stretched cotton clouds floating under the sparkling stars. Wrena is dark like the night’s shadows and Oleandar is golden-pale like a harvest moon on a hazy night. Their patterns of flight differ greatly, but they never fly far from each other travelling together. The moth sister flits low and through the trees, following the smell of nectar, and the dragon-sister soars high and watches the morphing landscape for anything of interest or danger. 

Oly whistles to her sister and lands in a grove below. Wrena circles for a while, taking her sweet time before touching down in the long grass of the undisturbed grove. By the time she did land, Oly was sipping the sweet juice from fat trumpet flower blooms. It was rather serene. A plethora of vibrant, healthy flowers and ferns surrounded by a subtle cage of oaks, maples, bittersweet vines and stands of river birch. The colors and textures lay out a painting. Fireflies drifting and blinking, night birds calling and creatures screeching – the night is humming with life. The sisters found themselves peacefully grazing, one on nectar the other on long delectable grass and a few delightful little mushrooms.

i've got no roots,

oleandar    &    wrena

 

but my home was never on the ground

open to anyone! they're just hangin out in some secret garden nbd.
and oly looks like dis @[OLEANDAR]

[Aten]

The soft summer breeze of the night served as a cool relief from the blistering heat of day lingering only hours earlier. Normally, at this time of the day, the golden stallion currently wandering the meadow grass would be making his way home, but he was out more often because he had an important job ahead of him.

Not just trying to be the Taiga's ruler, but to try and help restore it. Right now, he felt like the only resident there, save for the forest animals that called the wild trees home, the predators that may have lingered to look for their next meal, and Aten's companion, Turul. The falcon proved to be good counsel based on what limited words could be shared between the two. They had a mutual understanding, almost needing no speech between them. Sure, certain words here and there were helpful, but more often than not, the stallion and bird of prey could tell what each other were thinking.

On this day, Turul's speech would take a heavy different turn. The falcon was soaring above the golden stallion, his eyes scanning the terrain below for, not only his next meal, but important news he could share with the golden king. So far, he hadn't seen anything of interest, save for a few mares clumped together in groups with their little ones at their side. Aten had said he was interested in finding horses to join Taiga, but he wished to give the mares with young their space until summer's end, when they would be old enough to be off their dam's milk.

Turul didn't quite understand at first, until Aten compared it to the falcon's mother raising it on worms and small forest creatures. So now, at least, the falcon could see why Aten wanted to give  them space. That, and, how had Aten put it? Hell hath no fury like a protective mare. He had even used his own as an example, despite his fuzzy memories of her.

The calm early evening winds provided good draft for the falcon to glide through the sky on, hardly needing to expend any effort to keep in the air. Without any warning, though, there was a rapid shift, the wind so strong it nearly blew the falcon out of the sky. He struggled to regain his momentum for a minute, shaking his head and looking around to see what had just caused that.

At first, the sharp-eyed falcon hadn't seen anything, until, for a moment, he glimpsed two objects disappearing beneath the tree line. One did linger for a minute before following the other, but it was quick. Still, he had seen them, and felt the need to warn the golden king.

Sensing where he was, Turul circled back and easily spotted Aten's golden coat among the tall grass. He swooped down and flapped his wings to hover for a moment in front of the stallion, explaining, in his limited speech, rapid succession what had just happened.

Aten, meanwhile, went wide-eyed at seeing Turul's rapid descent, clearly worried for what could have happened to his friend. The stallion blew air from his nostrils and spoke in an easy voice, "Turul, my friend, calm down."

It didn't seem to do much for the falcon, who continued his flurry of limited speech. Aten snorted and stomped a front hoof, "You know I cannot understand you when you do that."

Another minute passed before Turul seemed to finally understand and slowed down enough that Aten could start to piece together what his friend was trying to tell him. He motioned with his head for the falcon to lead the way, the bird of prey taking flight again and heading where he had seen the two mysterious creatures.

Aten picked up a gallop and followed his friend, slowing only when Turul landed on a nearby tall rock that sat among the meadow grass. He motioned with a wing to a few yards away, and Aten's gaze followed, both surprised and intrigued by what he saw.

Grazing in front of him were two mares, one a brilliant bay in color, the other a sun bright champagne several shades lighter than the golden king. It was the other features though, that had him intrigued and surprised.

The bay mare wasn't as uniquely marked as the other, but she sported white speckles with a matching white ear, as well as white socks on her pasterns. She also supported large wings on her back, not like the feathered king Aten was used to seeing. Instead, they appeared more like the wings of the bats Aten sometimes spotted flying among Taiga's trees at night, more... leathery skinned, like ocean animals, was the best comparison the stallion had. They were obsidian in color, like the mare's mane and tail.

The other, the palomino, had much more to boot. In addition to her flaxen mane and tail, she also sported a pair of wings, more like some of the bugs that Aten sighted in the warmer seasons in the grassy areas of his home. They were yellow in color, darker than the mare's coat but lighter than Aten's. They appeared to have red markings on them, though from this distance, Aten couldn't discern a pattern. They were also thinly outlined, but Aten thought he glimpsed something sitting atop the mare's head too. Perhaps a pair of antlers, or a horn? He couldn't tell yet that what the mare sported wasn't the only insect feature she had.

Aten couldn't tell from this distance what the mares were grazing on either, not knowing only one was enjoying the grass. The stallion wanted to approach, being careful about the plethora of beautiful flowers and other grove amenities, but felt it was rude to intrude their peace and quiet. He took a step back, considering his options of what he wanted to do, and was surprised when he felt something sharp poke his loin.

The stallion skitted a few steps forward, twitching his back left leg and turning to give Turul a condescending glance. Gritting his teeth, the stallion angrily whispered, "What the hell was that for?"

The falcon tilted his head and flapped his wings, to which the stallion said, "Yes, I am fully aware. But as you can see, they are peaceful right now and I do not wish to intrude if they are waiting on another, or wish to be left alone."

Again a wing flap, and Aten rolled his eyes, "Of course I wouldn't know unless I asked, but that's the whole root of the problem."

The falcon seemed to roll it's eyes this time before he took to the sky again, turning to he was flying directly at the mares. Aten's eyes widened when he realized what the bird was planning before he mentally reached out to his friend.

"All right all right!"

The falcon banked to the left and circled back to land on the rock where he had been before, patiently waiting for Aten to follow through. The stallion drew in a breath before he began to walk forward and approach the mares, his golden coat glistening in the light of the early evening moon sky.

He silently cleared his throat before calling to the two mares, "Evening... ladies. I hope I'm not intruding this evening, but I wished to come and say hello after I saw you both here."

@[wrena] @[OLEANDAR]

[wrena]

The night drew on as any other quiet night between the sisters. They peruse their respective snacks, lie around, gab and joke – Wrena delights in poking fun at Oly’s awkwardness, but they both know who’s the wiser of the two. Suddenly Oly’s antennae flick forward, they’re neither of a horse nor of a moth, but both. She’s got little cup-like ears like any pony, but their tips extend just a bit further, curling at their edges and adorned with long sensitive hairs. Her legs sport the same feely-hairs, like soft whiskers from her knees down to her odd little four-toed feet. She is silent when she steps and when she flies, just as any moth when it dances in the moonlight. Her nose is like a typical horse’s snout, save for its more narrow features to allow her to have a proboscis. Her wings somehow meld naturally, folding uniquely against her ribs and unfolding to spread full length at her sides. When she flies it is obvious that a current of magic lifts her, not the strength of her paper wings; she becomes weightless in flight. Wrena is not weightless, but uses the strength of her reptilian wings to their full ability. Like a flying stone – and still she finds grace as she flies, but it is not like her elder sister.

Oly whistles, it is an alert sound. Wrena springs to her feet and tips her ears toward the sound of voices and footfall. Oly’s sensitive eyes, large and pale green, with exquisite ability to see in the darkness, they see something flitting around in the sky. It all seems to happen rather fast, but smooth still, and by the time either sister could truly process that this was an approach; the golden stallion was already standing there before them.

“Evening.” Wrena’s hissing voice stirs the warm summer air and she comes forward to stand at her sisters shoulder. Oleandar remains silent, blinking calmly as she looks him over politely. The bay dragon-girl is not polite, but lets her fiery eyes rove over him head to toe, tail to nose. Smoke curls from her nostrils, dancing threateningly from her muzzle only to dissipate. She takes in a deep breath, “And who’re you?” Wrena quirks her head to the side, her tone rather accusatory. Oly snorts softly, “Well I am Oleandar, this is my sister Wrena.” She gives her sister a little ‘down, killer’ look and Wrena curls her lip at her pale sister. “And this is a lovely night, no intrusion at all. We’re just travelers enjoying the moonlight,” She offers a smiles, “and nectar.” She giggles, licking her lips with a ‘yummm’ hum.

i've got no roots,

oleandar    &    wrena

but my home was never on the ground

@[Aten] <3

[Aten]

The bay mare was the first one to verbally greet Aten, even if it wasn't in the most pleasant of tones. The golden king could tell he'd already done something to irritate the bay mare at least, but did not take a step back. He was already feeling awkward and irate enough as it was, he didn't need this mare thinking he was a coward.

The champagne mare's eyes danced over Aten's form, something he almost didn't see at first since his gaze was flicking back and forth between the two. The champagne one seemed to be the more calm and polite of the two, not displaying the same hostility of the bay. Despite the night sky darkening their surroundings, Aten spotted what appeared to be puffs of smoke curling around the bay mare's muzzle.

He was mildly surprised, but mostly interested. The only indication of this change in emotion was his eyes widening a small portion, returning to normal once the smoke vanished. The bay mare firmly questions Aten on his identity, and the golden stallion, polite as he was, made a preparation to answer, only to be cut off by the champagne mare.

She introduced herself as Oleandar, and the bay mare as her sister Wrena. The two seemed to share a look before the bay mare's gaze darkened and Oleandar shared her view on the night sky as well before letting Aten know that his interruption was no intrusion. That last part though, what was it she said?

They were enjoying... the nectar? Aten did know of the substance, having spotted a few variants of the forest creatures drinking the apparently delicious juice from some of the plant life in the Meadow as well as a small population of flowers that grew on the far reaches of Taiga's forest in the direction of the Forest, near the border shared by Hyaline and Loess. Obviously, the stallion didn't find such a source of food appetizing, but apparently, the champagne mare did.

He strongly suspected that her taste in food had something to do with the bug-like wings on her back. Could the bay mare have an attraction to certain foods based on hers? Aten had seen creatures flying in the sky with similar wings, but he hadn't really seen what they desired to eat either. He would not make assumptions about the bay mare, for the time being. It already seemed as if she wasn't thrilled by his presence here, he didn't need nor want her hating him.

The golden king decided to answer the bay's question before moving on, "It is very nice to meet the both of you. I go by the name Aten; I hail from Taiga's land, a day or so journey north.

"You say you are travelers," he changed his direction of speaking to the champagne mare, "Do you mean to say you do not call any of Beqanna's kingdoms your home yet?"

@[wrena] @[OLEANDAR]

[OLEANDAR]

If Oleandar had ever bothered to admire her own beauty she would have noticed that the man standing in front of them was almost identical in color – the pale gold of his coat captured her observations, but she never thought to compare it to her own milky golden hue. Oly lets her sensitive ears lean into his calm, steady voice. She could not find a reason to be as sour as her sister, and often she could, but this man seemed ever nice without a twinge of mischievousness. Even if he did mean any such harm, or foul, the bay sister was a weapon not to be trifled with.

From behind her pale sister Wrena’s eyes burn like pumpkins set on fire, like the fire that curls in her chest and waits impatiently for release. Her long black eyelashes tip and rise was she blinks, sneering but remaining silent, her chest almost touching Oly’s closest powdery wing.

Oleandar can tell he is listening, not simply waiting to talk. He does mention his home along with his name, but it is not in the same way as most, it does not seem like a line with bait dangling at its end, only waiting to reel you ashore. She’s never visited Taiga, only flown over it. Wrena has been to Taiga, but finds nothing worthy note to say about it. She remains quietly scowling behind/beside Oly. When his eyes make contact with Wrena’s she stares back without blinking and waits for him to focus on her sister again. Oly meets his eyes with hers and a subtle smile, the opposite of her sister. “Travelers, yes.” Her head tilts to the side, watching him, “Aten.” she repeats softly, and Wrena growls under her breath. “We’re not looking for a keeper.” She could not help herself and her hot, sharp voice drops like a molten dribble into the cold sea. Tsss. It makes the atmosphere sizzle, and she fidgets uncomfortably, Oly shooting her a scowl. “Wrena.” the pale sister snaps at the other. Oleandar’s soft voice breaks the tension and she gives the stallion another smile, she is so used to her sister’s aggressive behavior toward strangers. “We do not stay in any place for long, save for Nerine with our mother as children.”

Belonging somewhere is a sensitive subject for them both. Home was their mother, home is each other – things are different with their mother gone, but the latter part stays true. It has never worked out for them to claim a home, there mother never had good luck at it either. Their mother thought perhaps Nerine would be it, gave birth to Wrena there, raised both girls on the stormy beaches of the peninsula. But war, sickness and idleness broke everything apart. Their mother disappeared and they’ve never been back to Nerine since.


After a few still moments pass, Oly draws in a breath and breaks the quiet with her silky voice. “And what brings you here tonight then, Aten?”

i've got no roots,

oleandar    &    wrena

but my home was never on the ground

@[Aten]

[Aten]

The champagne mare is the one who affirms Aten's guess to their status, before saying his name back in order to address him. The bay mare then cut in, almost seeming to growl under her breath and insisting that they were not in the Meadow to search for a keeper. Aten never would've implied he would be assigning himself a task as such, he was merely curious as to why the two mares had been out here at a late hour to begin with.

The champagne mare snapped at the bay, and then explaining vaguely why they were out here. Aten sort of put it together himself; they just happened to be out here, since they did not call anywhere else home like he guessed himself. They could've been anywhere else, he just happened to catch them here.

He wondered, wanted to know, why the two mares did not call one of Beqanna's beautiful kingdoms home. Nerine, quite possibly, would make sense; it seemed they had a history there, perhaps a negative one that clued into why they were out on their own. Aten would not pry into their business; if they wished to share, of course he would listen, but it was not his business to ask.

The champagne mare spoke up again after a few moments of silence, her voice smooth and silky like Aten's coat once he shed out following the winter. She wondered what the stallion himself was doing out here late as well, something he had a simple answer to.

"I have been out from my home recently, exploring the other common lands for others that are currently on their active search for a place to call home," he explained, choosing his words carefully. He did not want to give the two mares the impression that he was trying to entice them to go to his kingdom, hence why he had said 'actively'.

If they asked more, he'd tell them. Until then, he'd keep quiet.

"I did not have much luck this time around, so I decided to return home to check on things and take a breather before going back to the Field. I decided to start making my journey home when my companion spotted the two of you and... insisted, that I introduce myself to you," he joked. "I won't deny of course that I was curious, which led to me coming over here to say hello."

@[wrena] @[OLEANDAR]

[OLEANDAR]

The mothy girl looks on, big reflective eyes taking in the stallion’s details as the wind let her long blonde hair dance as well as her wing’s great twisting tails. A kind smile is always at home on her face, even in those times when it is simply cordial and not really what she is feeling – she is a diplomat at heart. Her insect wings, bright and appearing delicate, twitch as she listens, her antennae ears perked intently. “Ah, yes.” her soft voice matches her soft expression.

Wrena watches, but adds nothing to the interaction, every few breaths her nostrils emit small curls of smoke. She listens carefully to them both, picking out the small nuances between them, of him mostly, but she does like to observe how her older sister does things sometimes (she wouldn’t quite admit to that, though).

Oly let her eyes shift to the falcon as he referred to it insisting that he approach the pair. She lets out a sweet, childish giggle, “Well, how nice of you two to come say hello.” She brings her eyes back to the stallion’s face, “It is a wonderful night to meet new folks.” She draws in a breath, breaking the silence that lingered only for a moment, “And where is your home, Aten?”

i've got no roots,

oleandar    &    wrena

but my home was never on the ground

@[Aten]

[Aten]

At hearing the compliment from the palomino mare, Turul flapped his wings and smiled proudly, almost as if he were taking complete credit for this. Turning his eyes to his friend, Aten flicked his tail to chase the falcon off, pleased when the bird of prey opened his wings and took flight to head for one of the nearby trees. He didn't need a babysitter for this.

"I agree, it is a rather beautiful night out. The Meadow seems to be in our favor."

Oly questioned where it was Aten called home, which he offered, "I am from the land called Taiga. It is located up north, by the ocean kingdom Nerine, a sister kingdom."

@[wrena] @[OLEANDAR]

[wrena]

“Taiga, oh.” The pale mare twitches her colorful wings once again. Her heart, both sister’s hearts, skip a bit as he mentions Nerine. Neither girl says a word, but the air shifts for a moment, like a ghostly wind blows through the trio. “Tell me, Aten, about your home.” Her voice seems to purr as she speaks, looking him over but there’s really no telling where she is observing. “What is it like there? Are there mountains and trees? Is it fertile land, or barren desert? Both have their beauty…and every landscape in between too.” her voice is soft and confident, almost fairy like. Her sister’s presence behind her is heavy in the atmosphere like a rock, like an eavesdropping, smoking stone.

Wrena was half-interested now, bending her white ear to the man’s voice, watching him from beneath her black forelock. She readjusts her scaly wings if only to hear their leathery tune, as if to remind everyone that she was here to dampen anything lighthearted and jolly. “Get on with it,” she raises her head a little, “What is Taiga like, then?” Meanwhile she dreams of Nerine’s stormy shores in the back of her mind and wondered if Taiga shared the same characteristics as her birth home.

i've got no roots,

oleandar & wrena

but my home was never on the ground

@[Aten]

[Aten]

Aten would've been happy to answer Oly's questions regarding what the Taiga kingdom was like, until Wrena cut in and demanded he get on with his explanation. Aten had to resist narrowing his eyes in irritation; he had been ready to do just that, she just seemed to be an impatient mare. But the fact that she was at least interested now, it seemed, was promising.

The stallion sighed as he recalled his home, "The western coast is lined by the ocean, which stretches out to a beautiful dark crystal blue that stands out like winter snow in the autumn wood. There are trees forming a forest for many miles, with branches so thickly woven together squirrels do not even have to jump to where they wish to go. The trees themselves stretch so tall that one could not even see the top. The sky is fully visible at night from some of the smaller grazing meadows, a beautiful black canvas to watch as each individual star appears.

The grazing meadows are quite peaceful but still protected on all sides by the forest. During the early hours of the morning, and on some nights, a cover of fog rolls in, sometimes so thick that you can hardly see your hooves beneath your knees. But if you leave the woods to look at the fog as it blankets the trees, the sight is really quite something else to see. I haven't been able to come up with a suitable word for it," he admitted, a smile tugging at the corner of his lip.

@[OLEANDAR]