"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
The River has always been a favorite of his. It has its own unique beauty, something he’s studied for a long time, but still has no real words to describe it. It is a feeling, and next to it is the Forest which is almost as nice as the River’s edge or its moss-bed groves. He has been wandering in the shadows of the River for a few weeks now, finding nothing of particular mention and enjoying the solitude.
Today starts as any other, the birds, the mists; the warm summer sunlight. Golden morning rays filter through the veined leaves to dapple over his black body while he moves under the sentinel trees, white speckles painted over his coat’s matte darkness like stars on a moonless night. The birds here know him by now and are not alarmed as he strolls down the banks of the gushing trail of sparkling mountain water. Bugs annoy him, moving with him in biting little clusters until finally he cannot bear it any longer and finds a mud hole to flop himself into. He’s thorough, caking himself in the thick brown mud-paste and continues his walk a little less annoyed. He follows the riverside until he’s in the Forest, the trees creak and moan their hellos, the critters seem to flit out of his eye-sight – all but the resident ravens and magpies who seem ever curious and creep along to watch him.
It takes him half the day, at a sluggish and casual pace, to reach Hyaline. Why? He’s not sure, but to counter that question with a perfectly good question; why not? He hasn’t been here since his professor days, but it smells the same, feels the same. No rogue children running about eager for a mentor, or frazzled leaders trying to sort out how to educate the little masses. It is quiet. The lake’s ruffling waters catch the mid-day light to create a glittering surface. He arrives at the lakeshore rather tentatively, he is indeed a trespasser, but he sees no one and proceeds to walk to the sandy edge of the lake.
06-22-2019, 12:43 AM (This post was last modified: 06-22-2019, 01:43 AM by Kensa.)
i never said that i would be your lover
i never said that i would be your friend
i never said that i would take no other
As Primarch of the looking-glass lake and the mountains that rise around it much of Kensa’s time is devoted to observing the comings and goings of others. Her borders are open and those who wish to avoid the depths of the Forest or meeting with one of the less friendly Loessian’s often choose to travel along the edge of or right through her home. Beqanna's largest river is something of a highway, and all Kensa's children are trained to follow it home almost immediately after birth. A good lesson, and one that many others residents have learned before them.
Enter stage right a single strikingly marked—albeit filthy—stallion. From among a group of trees she favors the sabino mare observes the unassuming approach of the stranger for a short time. She is not the sort to linger in the shadows and spy though she does not immediately set out to intercept him. The sun is high now and the shade is comfortable...but really she is following the lines of the piebald’s frame, appreciating the thick strong limbs and the muscles that ripple beneath the cracked mud clinging to his pelt. His is a draught she has not tasted.
These thoughts the tricolor sabino does not wear on her face as she steps from the shade, though her attention is sharpened by interest in the massive stranger.
Sunlight reaches for her, greedily soaking into the deep liver chestnut of her back and flashing against the gold that veins and freckles her skin. She is a small thing, long of leg but compact and buxom. The way she moves betrays the vast amount of time she spends ranging about Hyaline and elsewhere, her gait smooth and steps deft.
Rather than moving to intercept his path along the lake shore, Kensa moves down to it herself so that it can be followed to meet him. This strategy has the advantage of allowing her a longer study of the man as well as an opportunity for him to turn away from her if he is so inclined, which he might, she tells herself to play at a game of not knowing what she is or how the wind over the water will twist her opium scent toward him. She was once perfumed with sweet plum and alpine air and still is, but there are dark and hearty notes now, nothing magical, just a natural change that accompanies one of her less visible traits...and perhaps better suits her nature.
”Kensa.” She says tipping her chin up a little, her voice amplified subtly by the water. “And you are?” She is very friendly for one who delivers her introductions so abruptly, and there is a distinct pleasure in meeting someone new that shines out of her face so that she looks all innocence and sweetness. Outside of Hyaline she would not bother with asking for a name—she muses—and lets the thought sneak into her smile for just a moment before it flits away. Here she is Primarch first. “The biting things that live along the river are particularly voracious this summer.” Topaz eyes dash along canyons of cracked mud at his shoulder. ”You’re welcome to wash that mud away in the lake, though it makes no difference to me.”Oh now, she is just being a good hostess. The eyes follow his neck back up to his face as she at last stops a polite enough distance away, though she reaches her muzzle out in greeting to negate the distance.
kensa
love is madness
@[Chemdog] Sorry this is so long, she ran off on me
The sound of his wading, legs sweeping through the cold water, drowns out the sound of her feet. But her smell, her smell carried across the sparkling ripples so smoothly and up into his nose to stick there, and like a line with a hook embedded in his nostril it pulled his ears and eyes to find the source immediately. He’s chest deep when his neck cranes over his shoulder just so to have a good look at the woman standing on the shoreline. His mouth pulls into a grin as if he is glad to see long lost company and he turns his teal eyes back to the mountainous horizon beyond the crystalline lake.
He lets her speak and as if she can hear the very thoughts floating under his ears, she did so. Her name first, he loved that, a simple introduction is always more fun – getting straight to the good stuff is always fun. When she gives him permission, nonchalantly even, he seizes the moment of pause to walk deeper into the waters and dive below, letting himself soak as he dove and came back up to paddle in water above his head. He does not float out there for long, just enough to whisk the mud away and reveal his shiny coat with random spots big and small scattered across the matte black.
He emerges slow and stands facing her, water rolling off of him and back into the lake. He shakes like a wet dog, his mane and forelock sticking to his fur. Steam to rising in eerie curls from the warmth of his body. “Chemdog.” his sticky forelock lets only one of his teal eyes show as his head tips to look at her. “Lovely evening here – you the Queen of the castle here or what?”
i never said that i would be your lover
i never said that i would be your friend
i never said that i would take no other
Her smile is a warm thing but has an edge, something it acquires now and then when she is in the company of someone who appeals to her enough to draw it out. She watched while he rinsed himself clean in the lake and waited patiently for him to wade toward her, sunlight bouncing prisms off the water that churned around his dark, feathered limbs. In the end she is standing with her gold freckled face tilted up to look at him, bold and lovely. “Of a sort, Chemdog. I bear the title of Primarch, but Hyaline is mine.”
These introductions given, the little sabino sidles closer so that her shoulder is opposite his and she may look down upon the curling nebulas of silt slowly dispersing after his walk back to shore. “What brings you up to my castle? You don’t seem like a newcomer.” Looking back toward Chemdog then, Topaz eyes appraising. Every so often someone who had known these mountains before she had ever arrived in them would come out of the woodwork and tell her something she hadn’t known about the history of the place. She enjoys hearing these tales, drawing inspiration from them as she might. The past should not be ignored, even if Hyaline is different from what it was when she came here.
His black pelt is inky and liquid from the water that still clings to him. She doesn’t bother to conceal that she looks, but amuses herself by donning a prim look gold trimmed ears flicking slightly as she waits for his reply to her question.
“Primarch, eh?” his voice rolls from between his lips grinning his crooked grin. He watches her slither about with an entertained look on face his, like a cat watching prey with a full belly. Allured, but not enough to pounce just yet. He adjusts himself to face her, looking around as he takes in a deep breath, pondering what he might say. “This land and I know each other.” he chuckles a bit sinisterly, but it is only nostalgia with a sprinkle of mischief. “I am forever fond of this place…” Chem’s voice trails and his gaze moves back to her, “May I stay?” his head tilts to one side.
He’s got stories about what this place once was when he loved here originally. Hyaline was a sanctuary and school, a peaceful place of learning and healing, and with Chemdog professing; a healthy dose of scandal. Though smart, he is not much a scholar, but he did indeed enjoy shaping young minds and teaching them a bit of hard wisdom. It did not last long, as nothing ever does for the guy, he left and when he returned it was all gone. It feels like eons ago now.
He waits for his question to resonate and return answered.
i never said that i would be your lover
i never said that i would be your friend
i never said that i would take no other
Kensa has learned to keep a better guard on her thoughts but it remains her nature to be genuine and easy with her emotions. The stallion surprises her and she tilts her head and makes a new study of the massive beast, prettily intrigued. He is not what she would expect of the Hyaline she’d scrubbed away… So what had it been when he’d known it? Her pale tale flicks once, but otherwise she is all patience.
“Tell me what Hyaline was like when you were last here, I am curious.”
There is a distinct pleasure in her look when he asks if he might stay but she does not agree immediately. “Don’t you want to know what kind of place it is now, Chemdog? I think it might suit you, but all the same you should know just what you’re getting into.” Gravely and then bright topaz eyes laugh at her own ridiculously mysterious speech and she shakes it away before it might be taken too seriously. “You are free to stay, and free to do as you like. A flicker of a smile. “But sanctuary we are not. I hope you don’t mind being party to a little mischief now and then?”
The sabino steps out into the shallows, the gold of her sides reflecting in the bright water and then back again.
Chem’s first response to her was a laugh when she asked him what it once was. “A schoolyard of orphans and refugees. Professors and students were the residence mostly. The vision was for it to help the less fortunate flourish and maybe evolve form that, but it collapsed for whatever reason.” He drew in a breath, clearly bored of the subject. “I do not know the reason.”
He liked the bossy tone of her voice as she carried on. Women in power are just so scrumptious, he muses to himself as he eyes wander across her sabino patches, listening to the tone of her voice. “I know nothing of what Hyaline has become, or any of the kingdoms – I do at least know the Primarch of the lake region is a beautiful little lotus who goes by Kensa.”
He nods when she tells him may do as he wants. Good thing, because that’s what was going to happen anyway; eviction be damned. “Mischief, heh? Is that your vision, Primarch of Hyaline? To man a ship of mischievous underlings?” he chuckles, reaching out rather brazenly to brush his upper lip across her ribs. If she rejects him he will just as easily shake it off and continue on, but the option can’t not be explored. That would be travesty.
i never said that i would be your lover
i never said that i would be your friend
i never said that i would take no other
“Interesting.” The Primarch muses on the idea of a school full of wild and reckless children with a handful of adults trying to give them a better future. Perhaps that is a philosophy of the lands around the looking-glass lake that will never be stifled, though she would like to see more children here than just her own. Chemdog seems of the virile and active sort, perhaps he’ll help swell the ranks of the future if they can manage to recruit him some play things. She doesn’t actually expect her followers to ’be fruitful and become many’, it is just a silly passing thought. Anyway, in the interim or instead, she can of course think of a chore or two to turn him to.
The massive stallion seems to have similar ideas.
Kensa is accustomed to being called beautiful or feeling eyes track her from place to place but she is never grows impatient with it. Indulging herself as much as she does the rough edged men she gathers into her company especially as her influence increases and the risks dwindle down only to who might be foolish enough to harm a beautiful woman with considerable connections.
Her laughter tumbles across the smooth lake surface and she lets her steps continue into a slow half circle around Chemdog. The stallion reaches out to brush the upper curve of her ribs with a curious lip and she says, amused “Call me Captain.” Then, striking the water to arc a splash up at him she twists away in the other direction with a flick of her flaxen tail. If he means to stay she is bound to dally with him at least a few times during their acquaintance, and so is not offended in the least by his interest especially as she's made no secret of admiring him. “I haven’t considered it before but, I think I’m more of a Hood than a Hook.” This is called over her shoulder, because she is loping through the shallows away from him, though not to leave his company. “And who are you, Chemdog?”
A vagabond in gypsy colors likely, but he does pique her curiosity all the more with his desire to linger and a history of putting down some kind of root in the past. She understands the need to do as one pleases its something she encourages in Hyaline, liberty and the enjoyment of life, et cetera.
The electricity of his anxious, hungry nerves grab ahold of his muscles as soon as she darts away from him with a fanfare of sparkling water dowsing his sleek black coat. He’s on her heels after a half-rear and some sound between a neigh and a grunt. His legs are thick and long and they chew across the water with little resistance, fanning to each side of his pounding strides like wings of liquid crystal. If he manages to reach her again he’ll lay a firm bite on her plump rear end, but she is smaller and quicker than he is, most certainly and if she did not want to be marked with a salivating nip then she could easily dip away.
He lets out a booming laugh as she calls out over her shoulder; such a clever girl. “Oh, really?” he pups the breaks a bit and a fun, high stepping trot keeps him behind her but close, splashing great plumes of sun-catching droplets as he goes along. “And me, you ask?” he snorts with a bemused grin, casting his teal eyes out into the middle of the lake. “What a riddle that is, clever girl. I do not know.” his teal gaze fixates back on her, his heels kick out playfully and he brings himself to move beside her at whatever pace she sets. “I am not as sure of what I am as you, Madam Captain.” his grin is slack and mischievous, his eyes quickly moving over her shoulder just before he lunges to put his mouth (not quite bite) along her chest. It is quick, a test, and he’s ready to spring away from a strike.
