[open] here's to fresh starts and all that

[Mesec]

Mesec arrives early in the morning to Loess, which feels fitting. The start of a new day, and potentially the start of a new home. Potentially. He liked Malone and through the star-patched stallion got a good first impression of this place but who knew whether it would actually be a good fit or not.

Part of him wonders why it matters - but then he’s always been rather attached to the idea of having a home.  Perhaps it has something to do that all the ones from his past have never lasted very long. He has hopes, though, that he’ll find one that sticks one day.

As the sun rises and moon sets, the glow from the silver markings on his belly and face fades away. He does not go far into the rocky foothills, lingering instead near the boarder - where the trees of the forest change and rock formations break apart the horizon. He’s seen foothills before - lived within them before - but nothing quite like this.

He wishes, belatedly, that he had asked Malone to stick around but settles in to graze quietly while he waits to spot someone to say hello to - no harm in not enjoying the view while he can. If nothing else, at least this Beqanna seems to be a beautiful place. 

Mesec

@[Malone] if you wanna join but open to any who might want to come say hi!

[Lepis]

l e p i s

up in the city until the stars lost the war

With Kestrell spending the winter night with Altum to watch the meteor shower, Lepis wakes to an unusually chilly morning. There is a moment of stillness, when she reminds herself of why there is no pied body sharing her nest, and another long moment as she savors the rare ability to stretch her wings wide as she rouses more fully.

The alcove in which she now stands is just long enough for such an exercise, with a few scant inches between the golden tips of her feathers and the rough red stone. The sun has not yet risen far enough to rouse her – or to warm her – so the dun mare fluffs out her golden wings as she moves toward where the sun touches the sandstone of the stone cliff, pulling her feathered appendages to her sides for warmth. The weak winter sun is enough to warm her face, and she closes her blue-grey eyes for a moment to soak in the quiet world around her.

Birds call in the trees below, but the kookaburra that nests in the baobob below is not yet awake. When she reopens her eyes, some of the glowing winterblooms below are just losing their sky blue glow to the grey light of dawn. The air smells of frost and steam, the latter caused by hot spring that gurgles over the ledge and down to the distant earth below. Crystallized salt deposits glitter in the sunlight, and Lepis wishes for the thousandth time that the spring as freshwater rather than brackish. ‘No place is perfect,’ she reminds herself, pointedly not thinking of Fort Hideaway.

She takes to the sky without much ado, ignoring the ache of age in her bones as she flies.

Her direction is toward the southeast edge of Loess, where a round lake sits amidst a thick (for Loess, anyway) forest. She lands there, and by the time an unfamiliar winged stranger emerges from the woods of the Common lands, the queen has washed the dust from her dun hide and her navy-and-white (and grey) mane has dried all to one side of her neck. This leaves the far side, with its thick navy scars in the shape of hooves and teeth, uncovered.

Lepis forgets this the moment she sees the stranger.

She moves toward him at a slow walk, but it is direct and purposeful. Her face is set in a welcoming smile, as befitting a greeter, but her eyes do not match it until she is close enough to see his. They are silver – not green and blue. He is not the danger. Well, at least he is not that danger. By the time she is close enough to converse, she is as happy as she looks, the soft buzz of the emotion a comforting warmth in the back of her head.

“I’m Lepis,” She tells him. Even standing tall she is not near his height, but the way that she holds herself is confident, and perhaps it might seem as though the scars across her neck are signs of the many battles she has won. Yet she is smiling when she asks: “What's your name?” 


@[Mesec]

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[Mesec]

The silver-lined stallion isn’t left alone to wander for very long. A winged mare, gold and blue, approaches with a smile he suspects might be practiced - but appears friendly enough. And though his gaze does flicker to the scars on her neck, healing in navy skin and standing out so proudly against her light coat, he does not stare.

It is comforting, in an odd way, to see them - he always did have a habit of befriending mares that were tougher than he was.

His manner is friendly and respectful when he replies, dipping his head a little as he introduces himself. “I’m Mesec, it’s nice to meet you Lepis. I was invited by Malone to, well, live here I suppose.” Mesec’s hesitation is just a result of not knowing whether “live” or “join” was more accurate. How much were these kingdoms and lands like the ones he had known in his younger days? Where everyone had a job, everyone contributed to making things run smoother, making things that would benefit everyone else.

He had to admit, there was something incredibly comforting about the lack of metal and woven articles adorning any of those in this place he had seen.

His smile is a little sheepish as he tries to explain away any awkwardness in his words - though really he likely just makes it worse. “I’m pretty new to Beqanna, still getting the hang of things. Is there anything I have to… do to be able to stay here?”

The question that he doesn't ask is the insecurity he never quite was able to shake - will I be welcome here?

Mesec

@[Lepis]

[Lepis]

l e p i s

gave me the blues and then purple pink skies

At the sharing of a name she recognizes, many of her suspicions are laid to rest. More still are settled by his apparent desire to make Loess a home, for the dun mare has always been most tender toward those that share her love for her red homeland. Of course, tender for a creature as wary as Lepis does not mean open arms, though she does settle more comfortably, shifting her weight and readjusting her wings idly. Her smile, and the happiness behind it, remain constant.

She waits rather than answer immediately, and is rewarded by Mesec’s rather timid smile and an inquiry as to what he must do to be allowed to stay. That Malone had invited him to do so was not surprising – Lepis has asked the other residents to recruit when they can – and there is a certain necessity of trust in her fellow Southerners when it comes to such matters. If Malone thinks Mesec suitable for residency (truly a thing with intangible requirements), then Lepis does as well.

Still…

“We require a blood sacrifice on the first full moon summer,” she tells him, her brows raising ever so slightly with a twitch at the edge of her smile, “So you’ve come at a rather opportune time, having just missed it.”

She should not toy with him, and she knows this in a more empathic part of her heart, but there has been precious little for entertainment for such a long time. Biding one’s time is all well and good, but there are limits even to Lepis’ patience. She has already been forced to make changes, and her dislike of that had soured her mood for several weeks. Mesec’s arrival has coincided with the end of that bitterness, and the dun mare is eager to experience more positive emotions.

Even at the expense of others, it seems, though she reassures herself that it is clear she is jesting.



@[Mesec]

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[Mesec]

If Mesec wasn’t already worried his question was a foolish one, her answer would have solidified it. The silver-lined stallion grins when she speaks though - feeling fairly confident that this is a joke (but not completely confident). He thinks of Lucius and Lyra, his old companions, and how Lyra would have thought it a mighty good jest while Lucius would have sat there and been wholly unimpressed.

The ache in his heart for their absence twinges. He does not brush it aside, just quietly accepts it and the soft way it fades his smile so it does not shine so bright for a moment before he can recover.

When the moment passes, and before too much time has passed, his grin returns and he tilts his head just slightly as he regards Lepis with his silver eyes. She reads as a sharp-edged mare, but that’s not a deterrent for wanting to live here. And though his own humour has a softer edge to it, he still tries to respond in kind. “Should I return in just under a year, then? Wouldn’t want to ruffle any feathers by sneaking in without a visit to the altar at the appropriate time.” He ruffles his own black and silver feathers a little as his smile widens a bit further.

He is at least 75% sure Malone would have mentioned the requirement of a blood sacrifice, though he has to admit that he did not talk at length with the colourful stallion. Perhaps these are things he should have discussed ahead of time.

Considering all he has seen in his years, the truth of this requirement would not actually surprise him - but it would deter him. For one, a land requiring blood sacrifices in order to join is either more powerful or more dangerous than he is willing to get tangled in at the moment. And Loess is a lovely place, to be sure, and lovelier for not being covered in ice year-round - he is just not quite sure he’s ready to bleed for a home he has only just stepped into.

Mesec

@[Lepis]

[Lepis]

l e p i s

gave me the blues and then purple pink skies

Mesec seems amused, but before she can congratulate herself on yet another successful jest, the black stallion’s grin dims for a moment. Not as a result of her teasing, Lepis is sure, and indeed his grin returns to its former brightness after only a moment.

That he offers, even if in jest, elicits a laugh from the dun mare. It is a short, quick thing, and one that fades back to the just-friendly smile that she has donned to greet a stranger in her land. It is still a strange thing to laugh, she finds, and the burst of true amusement is unexpected. She is not entirely sure it is welcome, or least not entirely sure she should welcome it.

Best to not dwell too long on her discomfort, the pegasus decides, at least not in another’s company. So she pushes it aside, and with a casual roll of her shoulders tells him that: “Perhaps I could make an exception.” That she has the authority to make such exceptions is implied, assuming that there is a such a requirement. Lepis pointedly does not clarify. “I’ve done so before, when newcomers have something better than blood they might lend to my kingdom.” Her faux serious tone has taken on a bit of superciliousness as she spoke, but it is belayed by the smile that remains.

“What is it Malone saw in you to invite you here, do you think?” She asks, trusting Starsin to have raised an observant son regardless of her husband’s influence.



@[Mesec]

n | l