"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
holy water cannot help you now. a thousand armies couldn't keep me out. I don't want your money. I don't want your crown.
The Void called its children, rippled and shuddered, and she felt the way the air thickened and all the world around her froze. Black and endless, a chasm of brittle rocks and fading stars… a place devoid of gravity and time- where the ancient bones of the first brood lay buried beneath the shadows and dust: Beqanna’s own shadow, a graveyard.
She navigates it, walks and wades, and in the end there is light; but one she knows all the well and while… familiar.
Like a newborn she steps upon the earth, upon the soil, and fresh from birth her legs wobble and her body shudders in the air. Yet? It is not strange, no no, this is what she remembers: solid ground and waving grasses- the scent of dew and morning and the sight of the sun rising as the moon set beneath the horizon.
Wine and golden champagne splashing the sky and stars fading into clouds as blues and silvers and grey swept through the sky, and she smiles when she sees it; but not out of love. Brittle and strange she finds the grasses and twigs snapping beneath her hooves as she drifts and weaves- attunes herself to the world as it is and the gravity bearing down upon her.
Sevda, as her mother called her, is a wicked thing: beautiful and dark- painted perfectly golden and soft with curves and feminine grace… with silver and white curls in her mane and tail; but glossy reflections of ice also exist there… shards and strands.
Unmelting and wild she tosses it back and stretches, her chest burning as hunger and thirst return to her and she finds herself smiling at the reflection in the puddle. Malicious and cold, her pale blue eyes do little to hide the frigid notes of her stare; but with time she changes. Mutable and manipulative she hides away the darkness and presents instead- sun and smiles, wonderment and all the world’s naivety.
Beneath that same sky her skin begins to heat and she finds herself resting beneath a tree, idle in the wild roses and grass- observant and quiet as she explores and observes: as she seems to be graceful and waifish in how she expresses tender ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’...
Oh Father, she thinks, oh Father how thou should fear.
Now that he’s gotten himself a residence of sorts Chemdog thought it pertinent to begin prowling the Field again. There is always a tasty treat or two, or at the very least, someone he may drag back to Kensa to satiate her or the Pangea leaders (whom he has yet to meet or deal with). Offerings are always fun, brownie points and what have you.
Today is about his own appetite.
“Hi there.” His grin is wide and a little wicked. He spotted her little golden skin and sparkling icy hair as she came into open. The lighting over the emerald grasses is snuffed under the clouding skies, but her color is vibrant still. As he picks apart her details, what he can see from his respectable distance, he notices a few more things; most of all the pale blue of her eyes.
“No one’s found you yet, huh?” He fights back the urge to creep forward. His tail flicks, hunger welling up inside of him as he watches her for a reaction to his presence. Anything north of disgust is doable, he’s found, below that never gets him anywhere. He’s always eager, but can shooed off easily enough, rape is no fun.
He looks around, dropping half of his charming grin to a slack smirk. “Chemdog.” the rumble of his baritone voice melds well with the sound of a sudden breeze whistling between them. Thunder knocks gently in the distance, quite an impressive distance even, and they’ll soon find the coming storm is flying fast. Having gathered the core of its strength in the open sea, it is bound to be strong.
holy water cannot help you now. a thousand armies couldn't keep me out. I don't want your money. I don't want your crown.
Honey and molasses, sweet and sugary, these are how her words sound when she speaks: when she allows her head to turn and those pale blue eyes to meet Chemdog’s own. Thick and laced with a touch of an accent, likely Pangean, she crosses a front leg over the other and slowly lifts her head so that the curls of opaque ice shift and move like hair falling across her neck and Iberian face.
“Well hello yourself, pretty boy.” she quips back, looking him over and noting the deep black that spattered the body and all the sharp contrasts of brilliant white: the pattern and play… how it highlighted different sectionals of body and self. Moreover she kept a focus on his eyes as she found herself drifting forward to close the gap… although each step was smooth, and graceful, a shoulder rolling back in a feline fashion and the mannerisms of how she carried herself speaking to a more predatory nature.
Interested enough in the bellow of the voice she settled with her eyes in his own and her every muscle relaxed: fearless and bold. “Sevda, and yeah-” she chuckles, her soft golden coat gleaning and smooth- the metallic suggestions of a sheen rippling with light. “I’ve been wandering all alone for a little bit of time now. Seems I get to be the lonely kid this time.” those pale blue eyes settled and she batted the thick lashes with a playful smile: her words drowning in tease and taunt… in a sarcasm as sweet as her honeyed words but as bitey as the venom laced within.
Cautious for the briefest second she studies him with a timid sort of girlishness, as if the confidence is a front and a spark of naivety clings to her suddenly. “Though I guess I’m not so alone if you intend to stay and chat for a bit.”
Her response is quick and her eye contact is hard-lined, stuck on him immediately. He already guesses her to be quite a wild ride, his favorite kind. No woman was predictable, though, and he’s learned the hard way a few times not to judge them on the first hour. He watches her move smoothly, cream and honey with an icy sparkle laced through her pale hair. She was a perfect little slice of pie; his eyes don’t leave her and his mouth starts to water just a little. She will never know this last detail of course, but she’s probably going to notice the hunger in his teal gaze. Like a feline she slinks closer on silent toes, the wind pushing between them as she closes the gap.
Sevda – he locks the name away in his mental box of treasures.
Both keep their eyes leveled on the other, Chem remaining still as the ice-blue of the mare’s eyes drew closer and closer. Her hair catches the light just so; there is a glittery prismatic dance in the blond of her locks and a metallic sheen to her golden coat. She was a pretty gem sticking out among a landscape of dull gray rocks. It had been a long time since he’s found himself so hooked.
When it is his turn to speak, as he lets her say all she has to in that saccharine voice of hers, he speaks through a slack smirk. “Or you can just follow me to Hyaline and we can chat all we want…” But there is a lot more than chatting to be done, right? He is somewhat playful with his is deep voice, attempting to put a lightness in his tone, but he is no good at camouflage.
holy water cannot help you now. a thousand armies couldn't keep me out. I don't want your money. I don't want your crown.
He offers her something she expected, an invitation to his home; but she is not ignorant of the larger male’s intentions nor of the wolfish way he watches her. Slavering jaws and teeth ready to snap, a devourer whose claws tried to sink deeper into her skin- and she grins when he tries to take his first bite with this creative line and playful flirt. Still? Sevda giggles, smiles and plays her hand at naivety, she pouts and speaks up as she stands close within his shadow… dwarfed by the muscle and bulk. “Hyaline? So far away though.” calm and collected she says no more for now, and instead does not hide the prismatic shift of color as light refracts from the crystalline hair sweeping across her neck and shoulders.
Remnants of water dripped down into lengthy coils and waves that froze inevitably, and she finds herself studying the matte black and patched white fur: the electrifyingly teal eyes and all the strength he seemed to offer. With some coy or coquette playfulness she continued from her previous: unaffected by the way he seemed to look her over or how he studied her in return. “I suppose I can be pressed into going when I have such strong company, wouldn’t want to get hurt after all. Though, I have to wonder- do you just invite all the pretty things to come along with you?” playful as it was the question carried some modicum of seriousness behind it and her pale blue eyes fixated.
With a tender kind of wink she batted the thick eyelashes and allowed a gentleness to ease her posture and poise. “Because I know… if I were a big, tall boy with lots of muscle and all that smoldering charm--” she paused, her shoulder rolling back as she shifted her weight. “I would want to start collecting all the lovely gems I could find, and would I ever try.” tease and further taunting came with huff and whisper, with a rolling purr in her voice as she mulled over the thought and idea of being surrounded by someone and their collections.
With a sigh, not out of defeat, she gave a last sentiment- flirtacious and laced with secrecy. “Alas, I’m only some soft little darling- all cute and alone. I’ll go with you to Hyaline, why not, I’m curious about what your other girlies look like. If they’re cute enough… I might kiss ‘um.”
