"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
Jesper had not yet figured out what the south's motive was for stealing him. What IS their strategy? He could spend his time here figuring out what they are trying to do. You know, get information in super sly ways. Then again, there is no need to behave as a fox here. There is no need to sport his canine body either. He certainly did not need his dense fur coat. The days are hot with the summer sun baking the land. The menu here is better suited to a horse's stomach as well with a plethora of green forage in comparison to the Isle. Loess also has no trees to sneak between or, through; no shade to hide in; and, dragons flying overhead. His fox skin would be too obvious. He will play out the days here in his equine form, hiding in plain sight.
Another strategy is to annoy the bejesus out of them until they volunteer to let him go. But, that took energy and effort. And, he could not afford to waste any. He needs to conserve and store as much as he can. And, storing is exactly what he is doing currently. His whiskered muzzle outstretches towards the lushest lawn and his incisors work diligently to crop the grass and grind it with his jaw. Jesper's strategy now is to rest and recoup his strength. Maybe, put on a few pounds and fill out a bit.
As he grazes, the black allows his mind to wander. How were Camomila and Jesla faring? He hopes they are not frantic with worry. They are strong woman and, without a doubt, able to keep their home safe. He also ponders where @[Castile] is these days. Did he orchestrate this whole thing? If he is still in charge here, why hadn't he shown his face? Jesper makes no effort to summon the smoky tobiano dragon. No, the black is quite content to continue grazing. Maybe he could eat so much that the residents would be left hungry. As good and devious as that sounds, he would probably get a stomachache before then. His lobes hang limp from his poll as he casually shuffles along, foraging to his stomach's delight.
"Hello there," Oceane greets the black stallion, having accidentally happened upon him during her stroll. She is not feeling particularly talkative ─ she hasn't since the disappearance of her son ─ but she recalls a recent conversation with Castile and, if she is not mistaken, this strange stallion may just be the King of the northernmost island.
She knows nothing of Icicle Isle aside from what Leilan has told her of it, and truth be told she has hardly a desire to visit somewhere named after a harsh and bitter cold. That's not to say that she won't visit eventually (she is driven more by her desire for knowledge than nearly everything else), but perhaps next summer ─ once her son has been returned to her and the climate has warmed to peak temperatures.
"My name is Oceane," she tells him offhandedly as she comes to halt before him. She runs her tongue over the roof of her mouth, suppressing the desire to ask him if he had recently come across a blue-and-white painted colt in his travels (it would, perhaps, be a bit indelicate to ask him at the current moment), and instead feigns ignorance. "I don't believe I've seen you here before."
and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
(An outsider is in our midst)
Our prisoner
(We must show him our… hospitality…)
The freshness of ice and tang of saltwater still clings to Jesper, still so new among the Loessians and so soon into his term. He moves gingerly across the rocky knolls, and Castile nearly tastes his hesitation. From afar, the draconic king watches, kneading the soil with his hooked talons. Jesper glances skyward, likely searching for more dragons soaring among the clouds. A low growl rolls through, peering up as well as though anticipating another dragon is trespassing. Alas, there are only the miles of blue sky and a sun at its afternoon peak.
By the time Castile casts his gaze back to the islander, Oceane has already arrived, injecting herself into the conversation even as her mind fumbles with understandable fear for their son. As a mother of his child – the primal instincts more heavily cloud his thoughts now – an increasing sense of possessiveness and territoriality overcomes him and lifts his body from the rocky canyon floor to approach them. They aren’t so far as to require an entire flight, but they are also not near enough for him to comfortably walk.
After a downward stretch, Castile launches himself into the air, his wings unfurling in a loud snap. Two beats of them, and his hind end is already underneath him, landing. More of a large hop, but well versed and smooth in its execution as he joins them with glittering eyes. Arrogance floods him, altering his color to a glittering sapphire, his spines gilded, and jagged stripes of gold along his body and wings as though kissed and adored by lightning. His scales brilliantly catch the sunlight, jewel-like as he glitters with every movement. ”Jesper,” he says, his breath hot with the fire churning in his gut, ”Long time no see.” The memory slowly fades, but it holds its final threads desperately in Castile’s retrogressing mind. ”Welcome,” but his hospitality isn’t as comforting as the heat of his body. Fortunately, his attention drifts from the obsidian male to Oceane, acknowledging her with a soft huff of air, but not touching her. He blinks, nods, but then returns to Jesper with quiet intent.
My time in Loess has been brief, but I’m quite impressed with the busy-ness of this place. The Loessians seem to be quite the busiest little bees - zigging and zagging and buzzing and bee-ing. Whatever it was exactly that bees do - I’m not certain - but these guys sure did like to ruffle some fancy feathers and it makes me wonder if I have been loyal to the wrong kingdom for the last several years.
And by kingdom I mean territory and basic hell-hole.
And by loyal I mean only occasionally.
Usually when it’s convenient for me.
Or fun.
Fun is usually the priority.
But, that’s tit for tat and neither here nor there nor somewhere nor everywhere nor whatever.
And I’ve just now noticed that someone is using their little noggin nearby. I can practically smell the smoke that’s coming from them and the effort it’s clearly taking to execute such a difficult task. But just as there is smoke, there is the telltale whisper of thoughts pouring into my own cramped mind. And you see, curious is as curious does, and I just can’t help but crest that little happy, rocky ridge to get a peek at what’s going on.
Lo and behold my devilish sparkling eyes aren’t disappointed when I finally make it atop that ledge, because beneath me I can easily make out that beautiful black silhouette of a virgin boy I once knew in Sylva. Unchanged, it looks like, but the thoughts of a Camomila and Jesla are brand spanking new. And it makes me wonder whatever happened to his dear little lamb. Perhaps she’d never made it out of Sylva afterall. Another victim of Swampy probably, I think with a shrug of my delicately spotted shoulder. That ogre had all the fun.
A pretty girl - though not as striking as myself - rolls in before I can pursue, as does the scaley source of the smoke I had thought to be Jesper’s brain. An easy mistake to make of course.
You wouldn’t know it, but near this entire time Haide has been digging into my skin. Subtle at first, then deeper and deeper she digs, and she is relentless this time. It grows from hardly a pesky scratch to ripping and tearing and red and utter pain, like a furious cat escaping containment. She wants out and she’s never been this persistent before, and I am unprepared. There is one blessed second when she relaxes - tired maybe- and I’m nearly certain I’ve withstood her assault. Until a ringing in my ear makes my flawless face contort in unbridled agony, and suddenly my clutch is lax. It’s only a half a second hiccup, but it is enough to undo what was done and my cherubic smile slowly returns as if nothing at all had just happened.
They would be none the wiser.
“Hello,” I hear myself say, fully dressed as a cheetah and friendly enough, and rather disarming at that. Quietly, I traverse the rocky projections that lay in my way until I am fully immersed in their little trifecta of pretty. And I sit quietly in my lanky get-up, turning a dark gaze curiously about them with a soft tilt of my head.
They would be none the wiser.
@[Jesper] @[Oceane] @[Castile] here have a little dash of crazy to lighten the mood
Jesper's focus pulls away from the abundant buffet of grass when the genuine greeting reaches his tufted ears. Well-trained mandible closes his jaw and, in one swallow, pulpy contents begin their journey to his belly. Bronze-tipped lobes prick towards the bearer of the greeting as aquamarine gaze follows suit. The black finds himself standing before a brilliantly hued lady with a pair of large, beautiful wings. He blinks in disbelief at the opalescent sheen and the magical mix of aqua and violet. She is simply stunning. Jesper manages to keep his boyish lust under wraps and, only offers a smile in response. He listens as she introduces herself and then, opens the conversation up to him.
He takes a moment to gather himself before following her prompt. In moments, he clears his obsessive thoughts and, focuses on what he should say. "My name is Jesper. You are very astute, @[Oceane]. I am a guest here or, a pris-"Prisoner.
He stopped himself as he heard the dramatic snap of another pair of wings. He ought to watch what he says but, he would have loved to add, Depending on how you look at it.
Alas, Castile is here. The black meets his gaze warmly and, maintains steady contact. Based on the dragon's body language, he is here to protect his shiny possession. Jesper certainly had no ill intentions though, he is grateful for keeping his thoughts to himself. If there is one thing he doesn't need right now, it is to incite a dragon. Jesper offers him a small smile and a bob of his poll in acknowledgement. He hears Castile's greeting though his words are laced with a chiding undertone.
The black stands his ground, even as the glistening sapphire and gold brute stares him down. Jesper knows he has done nothing wrong. The lady approached him. Before he can overthink Castile's antics too much, a flash of gold crests the rocky ledge behind @[Castile] and Oceane. Her hot pink points are unmistakable and, as recognition sets in, Jesper finds himself shifting his weight in excitement. @[Jackel] is no doubt a sight for sore eyes. Even if their last encounter is not one of Jesper's proud moments, he very much enjoyed her games. His whiskered muzzle tosses into the sky as the black male urges her to join them. He watches as she draws closer though, as her slender form comes into focus, he realizes she bears the suit of a feline. He shrugs, unphased by her wardrobe change. Stepping towards the lanky spotted cat, Jesper offers a huge grin and a husky greeting. "My, my sweet thing, aren't you looking as fine as ever."
I realized that I wanted to play this out. Jesper needs his Jack time <3
Jesper
