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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


    [open]  Things change
    #1

    you are a craving I can never satisfy

    The sun trickles through carelessly placed naked twigs coated in a soft white frost. Morning dawns on her like it does the rest of Taiga, though it’s been awhile since she felt woken by it’s early morning calm.

    She has, after all, hidden far away.

    The threat of magic, the loss of innocence, the surrender to the uncontrollable—it had sent her spiralling into a madness that had swallowed her whole. Spit her out, and left her with nothing.

    Not even the scent of Kalil lingered on these trees.

    Home isn’t home.

    Her golden coat reflects the few beams that warm her side, small ribs poking through but nothing in comparison to what she used to be—pre-Kalil, pre-Lilliana. Her mane falls in matts once detangled from rain and humidity, her tail ratted with branches and leaves. Though her body has filled, her stout build strong and sturdy replicating a similar build to her mother with soft hints of a stranger whom she never met (and never wishes to). And she lingers momentarily, as if to wonder if Taiga is still home.

    So she waits, for a stranger or a familiar face. Someone to bring her into the forest, and show her that Taiga is still Taiga.

    Ruthless

    Reply
    #2
    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
    The trees are confining, barring him here like a prison. Castile craves the openness of the sky or the rocky ledges of Nerine where he once learned to fly. Taiga is like a prison, but he agreed to come at Nash’s invitation. The young boy makes for enjoyable company, and it eased the once-King’s reeling mind.

    Six years as a King, and he was exhausted. After his mind succumbed to the primal needs of his draconic alter-ego, he wanted a break.

    But that only lasted a few days until Nash lured him and rekindled Castile’s boyish memories of an easy life. The forest would be quiet, a perfect place to recover himself, but he walked into a nest of agitated bees. An uprising, a battle, a seemingly endless dispute, all greeted him at the door. It would be easier to flee, to leave behind a land he has no ties to, but Nash’s endearing personality kept Castile rooted here, at least for now.

    That’s why he quietly wanders, still here amid the blooming chaos.

    That’s why he takes it upon himself to greet someone else, someone newer, at the invisible border of Taiga. Castile’s head tilts as he draws to a halt after a brief scrutiny during his slow, nonchalant approach. ”Hello,” he greets with a smile blossoming across his handsome face, retaining his sorrel appearance for now. Nothing to display, nothing to set him apart. Four stockings and a blaze, nutmeg eyes. It’s strange to be in this skin, to not parade as his true self, but he plays the role well. ”I’m Rocky. Are you new here, too?” Perhaps then, there will be fewer eyes on him as the newest member at such a turbulent period.


    castile


    @[Ruthless]
    Reply
    #3
    The skys are clear, a deep contrast to the storm rolling through his mind. That's why he finds it easier these days to dip into everyone else's thought, to distract him from the fact that his mother was to battle a boy he had grown up with and then possibly be stolen away from him.

    He continues to make his morning rounds along the Taigan border. The birds shuffled the canopy above, squawking down at him in loud mockery.  Any other day he would reveal in their music and appreciate the wildlife that resides in his home. Today he rolls his eyes and let's out an aggravated huff.

    Her scent meets him first, the wind must have settled just right. She was down wind. Her mind he found easily after - Kalil, home, Taiga.

    He follows the familiar pull, though they had not spent many days frolicking through the giant redwoods Ruthless was not a stranger. She had been gone for a while, wouldn't his mother expect him to welcome her home? 

    As he approached the presence of a second mind infiltrated his thoughts, Castile. Yes he knew who he was, he had figured it out during the takeover. What was he doing here? His thoughts had seemed unthreatening, always returning to Nash and his interest in the boy. He had not and will not tell anyone but his mother yet of the stallions true form.

    The buckskin man, traced in bright blue markings approached the duo. Ruthless was now a woman, and for a moment though her mind was familiar the mare standing there took his breath away momentarily. He cleared his throat as his bright, deep blue and purple eyes looked to "Rocky" and then to Ruthless. "Welcome home, Ruthless." his boyish grin was evidence of his happiness to see her. "You are a breath of fresh air, right now."

    @[Ruthless] @[Castile]
    Reply
    #4

    you are a craving I can never satisfy

    His face is evidently as foreign as his forewarning scent that had wafted into her nostrils. He is quiet in his approach, soft-spoken steps that transform into a tall and broad built stallion with a vibrant chestnut coat. The epitome of health.
     
    A new face to her, surely.
     
    A comparison arises before she has the chance to dismiss it, the familiar build of Kalil and his similar stature and approach. A diplomatic one. She momentarily loses herself in the thought of his equally warm voice and welcoming nature.
     
    It almost makes her want to hate them both. As if maybe anger will cover the feeling of guilt that daringly seeps down her neck and across her spine. The knowledge of her voluntarily (though temporary) leave, her decision to see Kalil when her brain cleared perhaps the most fatal decision she could have made. Now everyone seems to have vanished.
     
    Replaced with another stallion to do the welcoming, the soothing, the diplomatic roles.
     
    Yes, she will hate them both. It feels better.
     
    Her ears begin to pin—perhaps they do, she isn’t sure—a meek threat but a mask to cover the anxiety that grips at her throat before a familiar face graces her. Owin. Her memory is hazy for him, but the sound of her name craddled in his voice rings and brings a warmth across her chest.
     
    “Owin,” she breathes and nods in effort to recognize but also thank him, as if his presence saved her from the self-sabotage that beckoned at her door. “A familiar face indeed.”
     
    Her attention returns to the chestnut stallion, the anger towards him for being blindly alike to the heart and soul of Taiga having dissolved with the presence of her fellow friend. Though she hesitates; strangers had never been in her favour.
     
    “Rocky,” she repeats slowly but surely as if to remember his name, “welcome to Taiga, and thank you for greeting me.” Her caution obvious, like Brine she had never been good at bluffing.
     
    Born for war, not for diplomacy.
     
    “I a ‘breath of fresh air’?” A laugh escapes her, a noise that felt so alien and unfamiliar she pauses to catch her air, “that hardly sounds daunting. Surely Aten has held the Taigan’s together?”
     
    She doesn’t dare comment on the absence of Lilliana or Kalil; sometimes ignorance is bliss. A hard lesson our darling doe had learned only a year ago.

    Ruthless



    @[Castile] @[Owin]
    Reply
    #5
    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
    Castile remembers the tendril of magic thumbing through his thoughts as a boy. It was a magician, or perhaps a simple mind reader, that brushed his consciousness to ascertain his identity before engaging in conversation. It has happened a time or two afterward. The brush of another mind was startling at first – that sensation never really diminishes – but at least now, he is aware of such things.

    It doesn’t escape his notice that someone ventured into the dark corridors of his mind, extracting his true identity. It nonetheless unsettles him, and he wonders how much longer until he stands before the Taigans, cloaked in his true skin. Whomever it is has thus far kept it a secret – thank you – but Castile cannot ignore the inkling he has when the boy appears from the dense underbrush to greet the woman at their gate. There is a knowing in the colt’s eyes, like he is staring straight through Castile. The layers have been peeled back, his identity captured and the sheepskin removed.

    Their eyes lock.

    Castile holds the stare for a moment before forcing himself to blink away and instead turn his attention back to the mare in time to see her ears fall stiffly into a mess of hair. He almost inches back – a respectful gesture that only Rocky would do – but then the anxiety is eclipsed by comfort when she regards Owin. Their recognition of each other comes as a mild surprise, one in which reads across his face by raised brows and pursed lips. There’s a long moment in which Castile is cast aside, a stranger in their midst, but then the young woman’s eyes are once again on him, steadied and firm. A boyish grin softens the edges of his face. ”Thanks, and any time. Walking the border doesn’t seem like a bad gig, especially with everything going on,” Owin is leading them into it, flirting with recent events with a singular statement.

    Interjecting, Castile – Rocky – adds his brief opinion of the matter. ”Aten disappeared at a poor time. Pangea has targeted Taiga and some child of Lepis is staking claim on the throne, challenging for it since he didn’t have much support.” Although he knows more, and has a greater opinion, he decides to instead keep it to himself for the time being.


    castile


    @[Ruthless] @[Owin]
    Reply
    #6
    He watches Castile - Rocky - as the interaction progresses. He knows that conversations had been held between his mother and Lilliana prior to.. well everything. Though he did not know the stallion on a personal level, he trusted his mother's judgement, as well as Lilliana's and so for now he would simply keep an eye on the new kid in town.

    His smile is strained as Ruthless laughs and then makes a remark about Aten. Before he can reply her attention is back on Castile and the stallion is already explaining some of the situation.

    Aten had disappeared.

    Owin's gut dropped and the expression in his eyes was conflicted and stormy. Aten may not have had anything to do with creating him, but he had raised him. He was his father in every sense of the word, and Kalil his brother. To think that their disappearance was of their own doing? With out a single word? No, he refused to believe it.

    When Elio's thoughts suggested that Aten had abandoned Taiga, he had wanted nothing more than to take Elio then and there during the takeover. His mothers peace had touched him gently however and he was able to control his impulse.

    Owin knew that this information would be hard for Ruthless. Kalil had told him about his growing relationship with the girl, and Lilliana had watched over the girl for many moons.

    Owin's blue/purple eyes studied Ruthless as Castile revealed what had gone down in Taiga. Elio is challenging my mother. he almost chokes on the words. He knew his mom was anything but a fighter, but also knew she would not back down. She and Lilliana have been leading since my father's and Kalil's disappearance. There has been alot happening. this last part is delivered with as much ease as possible, his own hurt storming beneath his eyes.

    @[Ruthless] @[Castile]
    Reply
    #7
    isn't she lovely?
    Our uninformed mare stays ignorant to the ominous tension growing between the men, not feeling the urge to play psychologist to hormones. Had she known the truth behind the horridly thick air, she would have felt different.

    But alas, Ruthless as always is the last to arrive on all information. A curse perhaps.

    She does acknowledge, however, the slight question that arises across the chestnut’s expression. Part of her lingers on him for a moment as if suddenly a piece of the puzzle didn’t fit right.

    Or is it just the manic guilt jading her judgment?

    He carries on naturally, a charismatic type with good and trouble mixed into a hazy blur. His smile is charming and his voice steady, as if to almost pull her away from her thoughts altogether.

    That is until he mumbles politics.

    Her head tilts, soft cream waves falling from her face in clumps of tangled strands. Her hazel eyes harden as if maybe then she might see him better. He remains a chestnut, jovial stud. New to Taiga.

    Obviously well informed.

    Surprisingly nonchalant about the internal uproar.

    Annoyed, she throws her eyes to Owin as he begins to speak and feels herself waver. Elio is challenging my mother, Lilliana and Elio leading, my father and Kalil’s disappearance.

    Anger flushes like the feeling of sun rays against her coat, but she remains silent—for a second. Her mind is a whirlwind of emotion and all that continues to whisper in her ear is Wolfbane.

    Wolfbane.

    Wolfbane.

    Dark magic had been only a fairy-tale until Wolfbane had entered her life for the first time. How he had warped into a monster of tentacles as easily as swishing her tail. How Lilliana had cautiously danced around his anger and threat with soft tones and careful wording.

    How graceful Lilliana was.

    “Unfortunate,” she manages to speak, and while it is level and firm Ruthless is not ignorant enough to believe her discomfort remains hidden. Unlike Lilliana, our yellow doe is all but graceful.

    “Do you know each other?” Finally, a sentence falls and she glances from male to male with blatant annoyance blushed across her face before settling to Rocky, “I am confused here. Are you just ignorant and ungrateful to Taiga, or is there something here I am not getting?”


    Ruthless
    father x mother or rank


    @[Castile] @[Owin]
    Reply
    #8
    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
    This is where a hole rips in his costume. He doesn’t possess the same empathy as the others or even the same level of concern that riddles their voices. Castile is steady, his reactions fairly level. He offers an explanation of recent events, but he has no emotional ties to weaken his stance or darken his eyes. There is an uprising, a challenge, but nothing has come to fruition as of yet. Elio was outnumbered, his support and claim to the throne weakened by the resistance. Castile, admittedly, found pleasure in the situation because he has been in one similar. He knows the frustration that likely coursed through the boy’s body; yet, for some reason, it provided Castile relief that such disputes happen across the world and not just to him.

    Despite having come into the drama, Castile wasn’t as affected as the rest.

    Ruthless, appropriately named, narrows on him begrudgingly for his apathy. Tilting his head sideways in curiosity, Castile reads the agitated lines of her face before piecing together a king enough response that would be entirely opposite of his norm. Rocky is an amiable fellow – not volatile, not arrogant – and Castile portrays it seamlessly as he frowns solemnly in response to her. ”I’m too new to have played a side. Nash invited me, and unfortunately, my introduction was that fiasco,” the ways his brows stitch together perfectly compliment the regretful frown that deepens. ”I’m still trying to learn names. I saw Owin during that gathering, but there weren’t many cordial introductions happening at the time.” A flicker of the lightest humor flashes across his brown eyes. It dims almost as quickly as it showed because he anticipates her tolerance of jokes to be non-existent.

    Clearing his throat, he shifts the focus away from himself, his intrigue piqued by her biting tones and obvious passion and concern for Taiga. ”How long have you lived here, Ruthless?” Most likely since childhood, he thinks to himself while basking in their gazes as they try understanding this new Taigan.


    castile




    @[Owin] @[Ruthless]
    Reply
    #9
    Even though she tried to bite back her feelings, the pain and confusion was still there and Owin's storming blue and purple eyes did not leave Ruthless. If Kalil could not be here for her, he would. It was the least he could do for both of them. Even as Castile talked Owin watched her, only for the briefest of moments - when Ruthless asked if they knew each other did his gaze flicker towards the stallion stranger.

    The confrontation wasn't quite a good time for introductions. We have not meet officially. not that the sorrel would have introduced himself truthfully. Even now he is "Rocky" but Owin could possibly understand why if they could talk one on one. Like his mother he was never one to jump to conclusions irrationally, but he was cautious. He would keep a close eye on Castile for the time being. One's true intentions always made themselves known eventually, and if Castile had no intentions that would hurt Taiga then he would have nothing to worry about. 

    Owin shifted his position angling himself closer to Ruthless as the attention was moved to her. His brow arched with curiosity at how Ruth would answer the question. Would she still claim Taiga as her home? Or had she found somewhere that fit her better?
    Owin
    feelings are too loud for words
    and too shy for the world


    @[Ruthless] sorry for the shoty post. Owin is just kind of hanging out in the background - support for Ruthless and studying "Rocky" quietly.
    Reply
    #10
    isn't she lovely?
    Guilt swallows her as a soft frown forms across Rocky’s face before a solemn tone follows. Nash had invited him, he is too new to choose sides, his introduction to the Taiga was that fiasco.

    He is curiously well mannered, and carefully spoken. Though the begrudging reminder that Kalil was truly no different still knocks in the back of her mind, telling her she is being too haste on the chestnut.

    Perhaps she is being too presumptuous.

    And with a blink, she is lost in the light humour that ignites his eyes and feels the harsh warmth of what should turn her entire cheeks red.

    Owin offers hardly anything in response, a peculiar thing but Ruth decides best to hold her tongue. If there is anything happening beyond her knowledge, it doesn’t appear like either will release information. It is as if Brine haunts her even now, continuously ensuring she is hidden in the dark from monsters and manipulation.

    Their attention changes and it isn’t until Ruthless feels the silence surround her that her focus returns. Had she truly been lost in thought, she may have had to ask the (annoyingly attractive) male to repeat himself.

    Fortunately, she was able to catch the tail end of his last few words before her past had engulfed her whole.

    “Aten and Kalil took me when they realized my mother was in no condition to continue raising me,” she has no emotion tied to her sentence as it falls from her mouth, though a cheerful light does glimmer as she glances to Owin, “what would you say? Two and a half years now I have been here?”



    Ruthless
    father x mother or rank


    @[Castile] @[Owin]
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