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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "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


    Not Afraid To Bite || Any ||
    #1
    Sabrina

    She stalks the forest in her hound for, the brown and red canine stood taller than any average wolf. She was the only hellhound in beqanna aside from her father (that she knew of), and they certainly put fear into many equines.

    It had always been her and Crevan, ever since she was a pup. She never really cared to make friends, or talk to others. But she was older now, it wasn't about making friends as much as it was alliances, ans trust worthy acquaintances. 

    It may be easier to attract others in her equine form, but she liked that the hellhound scared others off. She knew only the brave and curious would approach a hellhound. And with it she stalked the forest in the early morning, before the afternoon heat arrived. 

    Not Afraid To Bite
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    #2
    With wings flaring, the pale pegasus skims the glittering surface of the water. The River is smooth flowing here where it separates the Forest from the Meadow, and he feels the chill of water against his front fetlocks only when he must raise his wings for another beat in flight.

    Pteron has not touched land since leaving the far southern point of the Brilliant Pampas. First soaring across the wide gulf, he'd then kept to the River. He will later follow it all the way to the Lake in Hyaline, but first he rests. He knows that somewhere in this part of the Forest, not far from the river, is a cherry tree. The young stallion had found it on an earlier jaunt into the woods, and he is certain that - although he had only found it the once - that he could easily find it again.

    The dun horse eventually admits to himself that he had been mistaken, for he has been wandering the woods for some time now, unable to find his quarry. Having been quite attentive to his surrounding during his search, he knows that somewhere to his left is something large enough to be a horse, though the wind and the trees blocking his line of sight have been enough to disguise the truth of the stranger's form. It is only when Pteron decides that he might as well ask for directions that he realizes that the horse is most definitely not a horse.

    Hellhound. The word comes to him suddenly, an early memory of a meeting in the Red Woods with a grey-green mare and a massive black beast. He still does not have the wind in his favor and so he cannot tell much about this creature other than that it is most likely related to the traitorous former leaders of Sylva. Still, Pteron is rather determined, and so he holds his head confidently when he asks:

    "You wouldn't happen to know where I might find a cherry tree? I was sure there was one around here, but I think I might have gotten turned around." It's always a bit more difficult for him to navigate on land, but he doesn't feel the need to admit that. The winged horse far prefers flight, and after two years now of flying daily patrols it feels most natural to mark his way by the tree tops - not their trunks.

    "I'm Pteron, by the way."

    @[Sabrina]
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    #3
    Sabrina

    She was not alone for long, a pale and blue stag touches down from the sky, he looks for a moment before spotting Sabrina. His initial look towards her was almost as if he had known her, but she certainly did not know him. She stood still, watching his next move but he did not fear her, the stag made his way towards Sabrina.

    A grin tugged at her lips, he is a brave one, she thinks to herself as her eyes follow his movement until he stops before her. He asks her about some cherry tree? She tilts her head and holds back a laugh, she didn't even know a cherry tree lived in the forest! Her equine self would most likely enjoy some cherries, but she rarely finds herself in that form. No, I can't say that I have seen one. She sits on her hind end, gazing over the winged stallion, she tried hard to remember him like perhaps he did her, but she could not.

    He introduces himself, she recites his name in her head but still nothing sparks her memory. She shrugs it off and returns to reality, My name is Sabrina, she responds, lifting herself off the ground. He was certainly not a member of Nerine, but she couldn't decipher his kingdom either....it was familiar from her childhood...but he seemed to have a multitude of scents on him that created confusion. Well then, shall we go find this cherry tree of yours? She reels the conversation back, and moves past him, he was a tall equine, even taller than her when she was in her horse form. For whatever reason he drew her curiosity, and she didn't mind spending some time with him, discovering more information on him.

    Not Afraid To Bite


    @[Pteron]
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    #4
    Pteron’s parents had never been able to instill a healthy sense of fear into him as a child. The result is audacious behavior, and approaching the monstrous hound is just one act of many that prove the young stallion’s bravery. It is not that he doubts the beast can harm him. Indeed, she is taller and surely stronger, with glittering sharp teeth and a pelt thick enough to dull any attempted hoof blow. A worthy opponent to be sure (while failing to teach him fear, they’d had success in instilling the importance of knowing one’s company) but not enough to dent the winged dun’s confidence.

    There is but one thing that does, and there are no volcanoes in the Forest.

    So he is bright eyed and smiling, and clearly pleased when the hellhound answers him politely. The timbre of her voice is female, matching the name that she gives him. He does not know it and so repeats it once for memory, adding:
    “It’s nice to meet you,” after doing so. She isn’t aware of the cherry tree, but she offers to help him find it, which brings another smile to the stallion’s face. When she passes him, the male’s olive green eyes glance at her nose. He has heard that predatory animals have sharper noses than those of prey, and he realizes that now is the perfect opportunity to find out if that is true or not.

    “Can you smell cherries?” He asks as he steps forward, content to follow along behind her as she appears to be leading the way. “Is your nose stronger than a horse’s as a hellhound? You are a hellhound, aren’t you?”


    @[Sabrina]
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    #5
    Sabrina

    The boy before her seems to be around the same age as Sabrina and it seems strange since she has spent most of her time with Crevan. Little does she know the tie her family had with this boy's.

    It's nice to meet you, his tone was so honest and sincere that she couldn't help but smile at him. She simply nods her head in response, mother was always the diplomat so she knows the proper responses she should give, but she always was a rebel.

    As she offered to help him look for this cherry tree he excitedly asks if she could smell them. He steps closer to her asking if her nose was stronger due to being a hellhound, seeking confirmation of her hound form.

    She laughs gently at the world of questions he has, she nods but to the latter of questions. Yes, I am... her gaze hones in on him, thats an interesting first guess. She has never encountered someone who knew what she was off the bat, which once again grows her curiosity.

    She continues to move in the direction she chose, either he didn't know where they were, or she had picked the right direction. My scent is definitely better, in my hound form but I can't say I've had a cherry before. Little does he know she much prefers the taste of blood to the sweet equine food. Not knowing what scent she is looking for will hinder her abilities to find this tree, but perhaps together they will be successful. And with it the dark furred girl casually moves through the forest looking for a fruit filled tree. Where are you from Pteron?

    Not Afraid To Bite


    @[Pteron]
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    #6
    The dun stallion has seen a hellhound only once before, and then only briefly. Still, the meeting had made quite an impression on Pteron. At the time he had been barely more than a weanling, following alongside his parents as they ventured to one of their territories. The Sylvan leaders had come to greet the King and Queen of the South, but Pteron barely had eyes for the normal-looking Mary. Instead, his attention had been focused on the impossible creature beside her, one that spoke like a civilized creature despite looking like a nightcrawler. Sinner, he remembers the name, fitting for the hellhound. The similarity in name strikes him just as Sabrina confirms that she is a hellhound.

    “I met Sinner, once. I was a boy and my parents brought me to Sylva and I met Mary and him.” Had Sabrina been in her horse form, the tobiano pegasus might have noticed a resemblance to Mary. With that he might even have pieced together that Sabrina was the right age to be the foal that Mary had been heavily pregnant with at their first meeting. But she is a red hound instead, and he does not wonder this at all.

    Instead, he listens as she confirms that her sense of smell is better is this form than her other, nodding as he does. “It’s a fruit,” he tells her, “Small ones, red.” Those last descriptions probably aren’t the best, but he’s not sure how to describe the taste of them other than, well, cherry-flavored.

    Sabrina asks where he is from as they make their way through the woods. Pteron keeps his place just behind her shoulder, looking through the trees. “I live in Taiga,” he tells her. “But I was from Loess, and before that the Brilliant Pampas.” He feels no need to hide his story or add unnecessary detail. “What about you? Do you live in Sylva, like Sinner does...did.” He trails off somewhat awkwardly, remembering as he speaks that the former leader has been banished from the land for treason.

    Is Sabrina the relative of a traitor, he wonders? Is there, at her core, betrayal?

    “What about you? Where do you live?” Pteron asks, choosing to focus on her anser and the missing cherry tree rather than tread further down that uncomfortable line of internal questioning.


    @[Sabrina]
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    #7
    Sabrina

    The two trailed beside each other, making casual conversation. Her own curiosity on Pteron's knowledge of hellhounds is quickly answered. He says that he once met Sinner and Mary, she nearly stops in her track when he says it but instead she flicks a gaze to him.

    Those are my parents, she says amazed he hadn't connected there relation after having met them. But he seemed more of a free spirit, he probably didn't put too much thought into it.

    Her mind wanders into curiosity, but she is quickly puller back to reality when the boy talks about the fruit again. She can't help but gently laugh at his dedication to finding this fruit. He says they are small but that won't really help her smell it out, but it should be sweet and so perhaps she can decipher the smells with that information.

    They continue on as if they had known each other there whole lives, just catching up on history. He answers her question noting he lives in Taiga, going on to spew all his prior homes. She wonders exactly who his parents are, was he still with them? Why did he leave the southern sector after so long? But his next question has her abandon her own.

    She laughs at his comment on Sinner, on father. No, I haven't lived there for over a year, but in reality she hadn't been dedicated to Sylva since she met Crevan years ago. I live in Isicle Isle, but hopefully it'll be mine soon. She drops into the conversation, her recent challenge for the crown that could land her the crown or homeless.

    A sweet smell runs past her nares and she comes to a halt, her head turning in the direction. The scent isn't familar, but in this case thats good. This way! She demands and quickly her body is running folllwing the scent. It wasn't far, just past a few trees and she slides to a halt. She stands at the bottom of a tree, it isn't very tall and its branches were all droopy. She turns to find Pteron, is this it? she asks as she flicks her gaze back to the tree.

    Not Afraid To Bite


    @[Pteron]
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    #8
    Taking his attention from the search for the cherry trees, the dun stallion turns his gaze back to Sabrina. He is not surprised to hear that Mary was her mother, and he had already expected that she was a relation of Sinner. His olive eyes trace her face for a long moment, but there is too much hound in her expresion for him to recognize anything of her mother in this shape. He’s seen the dappled woman only twice, but she had been a striking creature Pteron is curious how much her daughter might resemble her, but he is cognizant that asking Sabrina to change shape so he could get a better look at her might not end well for him.

    Instead, he turns back to the forest, his pale nostrils flaring as he searches for the tree and his ears flicking back as his companion explains her own housing situation. He’s been to Icicle Isle. It had been a beautiful place, and he can imagine Sabrina there perfectly. Her thick coat and canine form would be ideal for the frozen winters and cold summers. That she has plan to make it her own are interesting, and Pteron tries for a moment to remember if he knows the current leader of the northern island. He should, he thinks to himself, but all he can remember is something that starts with a J.

    This news is something that he suspects might be politically advantageous, but Pteron is not especially interested in using it. He is content with his life as a dis-invested pawn on the chessboard of Beqanna. There’s no time to consider it anyway, because Sabrina’s shout that she has caught the scent of the cherries breaks his train of thought.

    “Yes!” He exclaims, stepping past where she has slid to a halt to draw near to the cherry tree. He remembers the shape of the small tree and the leaves now, and he seeks out the red tint of the cherries in the branches. A frown grows on his face as he realizes that this early in the summer most of the cherries are still green and unripe.

    “I must have been here later in the summer when I found them last year.” The pegasus says, disappointment clear in his voice. Still, there are some ripe fruits near the top of the tree, and Pteron rears up, batting at the greenery with his wings until the ripest fruits tumble down. “There’s enough for a snack,” he says to Sabrina, glancing over his shoulder at the hellhound while he folds his wings to his sides. “Come and try them. If you don’t like them” - he grins easily - “More for me!”

    @[Sabrina]
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    #9
    Sabrina

    She had spent most of her time in the isle, and perhaps that was a downfall. She wasn't too aware of the political issues currently in beqanna, and she truly didn't care. Perhaps she shared a bit too much when saying she hoped to be the ruler of the isle.

    For some reason Pteron seemed like a loyal soul, and for that reason she doesn't feel the need to tip toe around him. She hopes that after it all, they could remain friends, Taiga after all is not far from the Isle.

    When the hound smells out the sweet green fruit she looks to her friend for confirmation. He quickly confirms the fruit with excitement and a small smile tugs at her lips. He passes her as he inspects the tree closer though his excitement quickly fades to disappointment.

    He notes that he must have visited the forest, at a later time. She looks at the tree, not fully aware of the issue. But the stallion rears up and the tree drops ruby red fruit, hidden inside the branches. He invites her to try them and she smiles at him gently.

    The canine shifts into her equine form, the bay and red pointed mare now standing before him. Her pelt was still fuzzy in her equine form, but regardless she maintained a slender shape. She steps beside the pale stag and lowers her maw to one of the fruit, she sniffs it before quickly tasting it.

    With a smile on her maw she pulls her head up to find Pteron's gaze. If only grass tasted like this! She gently laughs, the girl much prefers the taste of blood, rarely roaming in her equine form...but had she known vegitative food could taste so good perhaps she would have tried it out more. Do you come here often? She inquires, an attempt to learn more of the boy.

    Not Afraid To Bite


    @[Pteron]
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    #10
    Having invited Sabrina to try the fruit he’s brought down, Pteron steps back. His wings tuck tightly to his sides to grant her room to pass, but he does not move too far away. He’s grateful for this as the burly hound shifts to an elegant young mare who passes by near enough that she must brush him as she passes. As a warrior, Pteron had appreciated the substantial mass of Sabrina’s hellhound shape, but the admiration in his olive gaze for this new shape is of a different sort entirely.

    Perhaps Mother had a point, he finds himself thinking, perhaps there is something to be said for forging bonds with other lands through marriage. Surely Sabrina with her designs on the leadership of the Isle would be a suitable match, her familial ties non-withstanding. He almost reaches out to her as she bends down to taste the cherries, almost brushes the side of her ribs with his blue mouth and a dash of happiness. Just before he does though, his gaze catches on a late-blooming violet, and he is reminded of something else in that exact shade. He pauses, smiles to himself, and shakes away the silly thoughts of commitment to someone that his Mother would approve of.

    He barely knows Sabrina, after all. Better to just enjoy this chance meeting and see where it might lead. Her smile and pleasure at the taste of the cherries delights him, and he reaches out without hesitation to brush some of the juice from where its settled on her red muzzle. There are no sharp teeth to be wary of when she is in this form, but the thrill that dances along his spine as he pulls away feels no less daring because of it. Rather than bring attention to his forwardness, he leans back and then takes his own mouthful of fruit.

    “Not often enough to know when the cherries will be ripe,” he answers with a grin, “but I do fly over this part of the forest pretty often.” To reach the rest of the common lands he must choose between flight over the Forest or Hyaline, and he has been taught that a neutral land is a better choice. “But I’m usually in Taiga or Loess.” Or flying over the Brilliant Pampas or Sylva, he doesn’t add. He is not sure that an airborne patrol truly counts as being somewhere.

    “I’d been planning on visiting the Icicle Isle,” Pteron tells her after swallowing another bite. “I went once in the daylight, but I was told that the view of the northern lights are even better after nightfall.” He does not doubt the truthfulness of the two stallions who’d said as much, but there is a curios light in his olive eyes, as if he waits for Sabrina to confirm or deny this.

    @[Sabrina]
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