• Logout
  • Beqanna

    version 22: awakening

    COTY

    OCEANE -- Year 208

    QOTY

    "Because if she had not met him, she knew she would have been searching her whole life for the piece that he filled her heart with." -- Eva, written by Shelbi


    with the birds i'll share this lonely view | svedka
    #1
    and since you’re the only one that matters,----------------
    ----------------tell me: who do i run to?

    Though Pteron cannot forget the electrifying night that they had spent together or the promise to seek him out, the dun stallion has spent weeks beneath the Tephran sky before he seeks out Svedka.

    There existed no temptation strong enough to pull Pteron from Aegean’s side, not as the birth of their children drew nigh. Then had been birth itself, and the sudden existence of two small creatures who are reliant on him in a wholly overwhelming way. Overwhelming and wonderous, so marvelous that he has not taken his eyes off them. The time spent alone in the jungle, just the four of them, is a blissful memory. That he will return to them soon brings a smile to his face. Perhaps Asena will be awake when he arrives at the nest, and he can show her the newly fledged toucans he had stumbled across.

    For now though, the toucans and his family rest, and Pteron has other things on his mind.

    He has caught the palomino’s scent a time or two, enough to know that the other horse is here. Never near enough that Pteron could call out for him though, but tonight that will change. He is no hound, but as he’d stepped out onto the beach that faces Ischia, the salt air had been thick with a familiar scent.

    Svedka he calls out, his voice pitched to carry toward the creature that is silhouetted against a beautiful sunset. The soft forest floor gives way to soft sand beneath his hooves, and then to firmer sand as the water washes over his ankles. “I always forget that most places have beaches,” the blue-haired stallion muses aloud, his eyes on the water and then the brilliantly orange and purple sky. “You should include the beach as a benefit the next time you lure someone to Tephra.” Though he does not look at Svedka as he says this, there is a mischievous grin on his dark mouth at the lighthearted accusation.

    -- pteron --

    Reply
    #2

    let my shadows prove the sunshine

    The patched gold and ivory stallion spent most of his time in Tephra near the beach; water always called to him and perhaps because he couldn’t fly, he preferred swimming. Moments have passed and though he has kept himself busy, it was hard to forget the teal-winged man from the forest. Svedka found his cerulean gaze flickering up the sky, gazing for some kind of movement throughout the smoke and clouds that would signify the presence that he had been dreaming of seeing again. He hadn’t and for the past few days he had been contemplating if it was time for him to seek out Pteron himself, as he had promised.

    Of course, Svedka is wading through the various tide pools that had been left out in the open from the retreating tide, dampening his hooves in the lukewarm water and watching the tiny silvered fish that were trapped there amongst broken shells and hermit crabs. Deep orange and red violet plumeria flowers are strewn down the white and sky blue of his mane in a loose and nearly undone braid that Kagerus had humorously done for him nights ago, their bright color matching the sun’s light as it reflects off the atmosphere as it lowers towards the horizon. A voice calls his name, the sound carried to him on the warm and salted sea wind.

    Immediately, Svedka’s pink lips turn into a lopsided grin, leaving his pools to trot eagerly into the calm surf where Pteron stood. He falls beside him with the scent of sea on his skin, just now having drip-dried from an evening swim in the dark ocean. Svedka’s pink nose wrinkles and then a laugh escapes him, bobbing his head. “Oh? I assure you, there are many benefits of being in Tephra besides watching the sunset over the beach.” He grins wickedly, taking this moment to side-step closer to the winged man.

    As dusk surrounds them, the onset of evening sets Svedka’s skin to tingling. “Out patrolling again, are we? Or am I lucky enough for you to have found me on your night off?”

    svedka




    Pteron
    Reply
    #3
    and since you’re the only one that matters,----------------
    ----------------tell me: who do i run to?

    The water against his legs is warm, and Pteron feels his hooves sinking deeper with each slow brush of the tide. The sensation is one that he’d nearly forgotten, and he revels in it while he waits for Svedka to join him in the shallows. Would I be buried entirely if I never moved, he’d once asked, and received only a musical laugh in return. The question reoccurs to him now, and the dun stallion raises his hooves so he never sinks too low.

    Svedka smiles beside him, smelling of the ocean and the flowers that are twined in his hair. Whoever had put them there was a patient creature, and Pteron finds the effort devoted as intriguing as they way they draw attention to the soft silk of Svedka’s mane. When the golden stallion laughs and speaks of Tephra’s many benefits, Pteron’s smile widens.

    “Oh are there?” Pteron asks, casting a long glance from beneath his forelock. “I’ve not taken the official tour of the place, so the only benefits I’ve seen are the beaches. And the flowers, I suppose.” His expression is playful and his tone is exaggeratedly pensive. He’s truthful when he speaks; Pteron has always turned down the opportunity to see the whole of the kingdom. That would include the volcano, after all.

    “You’re in luck,” answers the pegasus. “Though now that you mention it, I think I might like to hear about these benefits.” His brows raise suggestively, and he carefully extends his near wing so that a single hard-silk feather brushes against Svedka’s side. “Perhaps you can tell me of them after a run? I am fond of running along the beach at night, and have not been able to in some time.” Why that is he leaves unspoken – Svedka already knows that he has called the many places home.

    Pteron takes a step closer, only to pivot his hind end away so he might face down the shoreline instead of the distant islands of Ischia and Island Resort.  His head tilts inquisitively, and his striped brow raises in a question that matches well with the gentle dare in his olive eyes. Shall we, he ask without words.

    Svedka

    -- pteron --

    Reply
    #4

    let my shadows prove the sunshine

    He’s at home beside the water and once he’s beside Pteron he breathes a heavy sigh as the ocean laps at his ivory legs. There’d been a time in Hyaline where he had made his roost beneath the shade of a swaying willow tree that leaned out across over the crystalline lake at its center. The lake was never as rough as the seas in his homeland of Tephra, but the overo stallion enjoyed the vast differences in scenery; especially a scenery that involved the winged stallion beside him.

    Svedka’s eyes meet his with a sparkling laugh, lifting his chin ever so slightly as to model the flowers braided carefully through his mane for him. “Then I suspect you should be given an official tour.” He pauses, allowing the sound of the ocean to overtake him but only for a moment. “Not that I’m a diplomat or anything,” Svedka adds with a wrinkle of his nose, “I’m not one to take on such responsibilities, if you couldn’t tell.” He laughs, reaching forward to playfully tug at the flaxen and teal tendrils of Pteron’s mane that is saturated with salty ocean spray.

    “Hear? I’d much rather show you,” Svedka’s jovial voice quickly turns sultry as he reaches once again towards him, but places his lips firmly at the base of Pteron’s creamy throat. The overo stallion dances away, the ocean stirring angrily against his prancing legs. He flicks his tail against his hind, snorting sharply at the idea of a run across the beach that is now tainted orange and yellow with the Tephran sun’s dying light. Svedka paws at the darkening water beneath them, splashing and frothing. “A run sounds heavenly.”

    He does not wait for any words from Pteron; instead, the stallion leaps forward, falling into an easy gallop just along where the sand meets the sea. He’s laughing as he streaks down the beach, splashing into shallow pools of lukewarm water and then back into damp sand again, kicking out his back legs. Perhaps it will be a race between the two, but Svedka has no finish line in mind and he cannot help how the salty sea wind and the rolling ocean fill him with such wildness and freedom.

    There is a bend in the near distance where the looming volcano stands and Svedka quickly decides that the black sand beach beneath its shadow will be their first stop. He neighs loudly to Pteron in order to be heard over their thundering hooves and the beating of the waves against the shoreline, petals of burnt orange and violet spiraling out behind him as they become unwoven from his mane in his wild running.

    svedka




    Pteron
    Reply




    Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)