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    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


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    You’d be North; Jesper and Beryl
    #1
    We got older and I should have known
    that I’d feel colder when I walk alone
    Spring arrived with creaking noises and watery holes in the otherwise mostly-frozen land. Sometimes when he feels really defiant he freezes up a puddle if it surprises him with it’s unsure footing, but most of the time he can just let it go. He has other things he can worry about, and one of them roams the icy plains in lion form where basically she would be old enough to leave for better grazing grounds - if she could shift back.

    Also, his hear staying in the coldest place he could find was technically over, so he could move out with her if she wanted.

    But that meant talking to her and talking to her meant having to find her, first.

    The scaled roan scans the ice for heat signatures that stand out; ignoring the one to his left which is Jesper. So far he has no luck finding Beryl yet, but perhaps she will be curious enough to pounce on his icy scales once more. There is little hope that this will shift her back, but at least if they know where the young lioness is, they can attempt to help her.
    Leilan
    no. 7 | ice forged in fire


    @[Jesper] @[Beryl] Hi I just went ahead to make this assuming Jesper would want to help, but take your time as needed ^^
    Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
    |
    Reply
    #2
    Spring arrives at last on the Isle. The migratory birds have returned to nest, noisily chattering and honking near the shorelines, the hares and foxes and ptarmigans are molting out of their white plumages. In the warming spring air the snow and ice have melted back to only the northern-most places that never fully thaw, and the few trees and scant grasses, fast-growing, fast-blooming, trying their best against the harsh world they have sprung up into, cast shadow enough to aid her hunting - and the hunting has improved of late, though it still leaves a dark place in her chest that grows darker every time their eyes dull. The blood stains eventually fade from her skin, but she feel as if they still linger on her soul.  Beryl was not born to be a predator, but she is a survivor, and this shifting has saved her life.

    She calls out softly to her Shadows - she cannot forget that they, too, saved her, from aliens, from drowning, they even brought Leilan to her - and they come willingly, coating her yellow pelt in variegated darkness, matching the rustling pattern of the small, twisted dwarf birches she creeps between. She will not be easy to find if one has normal eyes, but she knows that Leilan, her adopted father, is not so simple a creature. Thermals, he had said, he could see temperature, when the mood struck. So, today, she has been experimenting. Her Shadows are always cool on her skin and she layers them over herself as she hides from him, laying them atop one another unevenly until even if he seeks her heat signature, he will not see a familiar crouched lion-shape pressing low against the golden-grassed ground. She thinks that perhaps he will smell her, he may even hear her, though she pads after him on careful paws, but there is little to be done about those things. A lion can only play so many tricks on a dragon.

    The scaled stallion looks in her direction, but his eyes slide over her and she grins in a particularly feline way, baring large canine teeth. He knows I'm here, she thinks, wondering if her game has worked or, as he turns to look away, if he is trying to draw her out by seeming to be unwary. As if the young shifter has not spent a whole year learning who he is and would believe it. She stills herself, but lets a soft rumble of a growl curl its way from her throat, thrumming and almost musical.

    Find me.

    Beryl
    Litotes x Mehendi


    @[Leilan]
    Reply
    #3
    Of course, Jesper is always open to helping a brother. Leilan's request seems straight forward enough: Help Beryl shift back. The fox-shifter recalls his first few shifts. They were completely primal. He needed to shift - to survive. There was no known trigger or, control. It took time but he figured out what it would take to will his body to change forms. Now, the shift is seamless; as if he is shedding one layer to reveal the one underneath.

    He offers his scaly brother an eager nod to indicate that he will happily follow. He could easily shift into canine form; however, Beryl is his family. She may not take too kindly to a stranger tracking her down. So, Jesper marches willingly along behind the ruggedly built stallion. He chooses his equine form to seek the lioness in. One, because he wanted to prove that he could shift in and out of this body. And two, he felt an arctic fox may seem a bit too tempting as a snack for the big cat. His ebony pelt appears a bit dishelved as clumps of thicker fur hang on in awkward patches. He makes a mental note to sidle against a tree trunk later on. Aquamarine gaze follows Leilan carefully as he picks his way across the thawing tundra. Bronze-tipped lobes scan all around the pair, listening for any signs that they are not alone. He remains silent, sensing that Beryl may feel insecure and uncomfortable in her current form. Jesper is perfectly happy to take a backseat and, chime in when called upon.
    @[Leilan] @[Beryl]
    Reply
    #4
    We got older and I should have known
    that I’d feel colder when I walk alone
    For a time, Beryl’s trick is certainly working - the scaled stallion doesn’t really look at the odd spot twice, so focused on her usual warm outline. However, when he stops to let Jesper catch up, the frosted roan frowns, the oddly warmer-than-ice-but-colder-than-body-temperature spot finally registers as abnormal; finally registers as something that warrants an investigation.

    As soon as he turns back over the odd spot, now indeed pretending not to notice, he also notices the scent and her low rumble. Jes might think it was him, or, perhaps he’d not yet thought about it. Nevertheless, there is amusement in Leilan’s eyes, his tail sweeping as he idly waits for something more. ”Come on now, darling,” he mumbles softly under his breath, then grinning a bit at his brother.

    There’s one other thing he can do to provoke her; he kicks back some snow and starts running, as if he’s caught some scent and is chasing it - or perhaps as if he was chased by a certain lion.
    Leilan
    no. 7 | ice forged in fire


    @[Beryl] oops this is a before-mountain thread... so he just has the scales and eyes things still, and I guess she would easily catch up (:
    @[Jesper]
    Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
    |
    Reply
    #5
    It's hard to tell if her trick is working, but neither stallion seems to notice her at first. Leilan's eyes sweep over her once, then twice, but there's no way of telling if he has spotted her or is only guessing, and Jesper stands nearby smiling placidly, a willing observer of their game. The roan calls her out, and then he is running, leaving a shower of snow raining down atop her. Beryl sits up in surprise at this tactic, then the Hunter reverts back to the child she truly is and relinquishes her camouflage to chase after with a bright laugh, claws digging into the snow and the cool earth for better traction.

    The stallions are faster than her and between them have almost three decades of experience at such maneuvers over her own clumsy few months, but she bounds after them, body curling and extending to its limit until she is exhausted - far more so than they will be - and finally slows to a trot and a halt, tail whipping through the air as the pair run before her and, eventually, circle back. When he is close enough, she winds underneath Leilan, rubbing against his frosty forelegs and pressing her forehead hard against his cheek when he lowers it to greet her.

    She turns dark eyes, then, to Jesper, that usual shyness evaporating with the comfort of Leilan's solidity behind her and the heaving of her chest after their run. 

    "Hello!"

    She does not know the purpose of this meeting yet and peers curiously at the stallions as if she could glean meaning from the space between them.

    Beryl
    Litotes x Mehendi


    @[Jesper] @[Leilan]
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