"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
She ventures west. She had always intended on this trip to Sylva during better circumstances - when Lepis could introduce her to Sabra. When Lepis was still alive. When she wasn't required to deliver that very news. But, alas, she flies into Sylva now and that, along with a self-introduction, is her purpose today.
She has practiced the words during her flight in the hopes that repeating it enough will desensitize her to it and keep her throat from tightening when the time comes to say it aloud for the Sylvan Queen. But it sounds different and more hollow when it is only for her ears in the sky.
She has landed at the cusp of the golden forest, just at the edge of Loess' territory. She knows that she can venture in, should she choose, but privacy is something she extends inherently to the leaders of her subkingdoms. This is, primarily, Sabra's domain and she will not disrespect that fact by intruding with no regard. So she calls into the forest with a resounding, mournful sound and waits patiently at the edge with golden eyes peering in.
She remembers, almost as an afterthought, that the woman she awaits is also a former lover to Castile. It's a funny thing to find amusement in, but at least she can still find amusement - it would seem that the dragon stallion is good at finding the strong women who will command the various helms of the Southern territories.
10-08-2020, 10:55 PM (This post was last modified: 10-08-2020, 10:55 PM by Sabra.)
It's been a little while since I landed back in Sylva. The trees are fuller, even if they haven't changed colors, and surprisingly I'm a little fuller too. Still wraith-like, yes. But my hair isn't so matted anymore. My coat is nearly, dare I say, glossy. Shocking, I know.
Steady trickles of blood have that effect on a girl.
It's funny, but I'd just about forgotten the legalese of being in charge. That you actually have to do things, speak to others when they turn up in your doorway. So much more entertaining skulking in the shadows and watching as they stumble through the dark and unfamiliar paths. But Balto has gone off somewhere. Or he's found a new cave to hide in. Either way, I haven't seen him in... well, it's been a while. No one too talk to but the ones who linger, and I'd rather they keep their mouths shut, thank you very much.
So I'll go and answer this lonesome call, and see who knocks on my door.
And she's blue, blue, blue as the sky, blue as the sea. As blue as me. I crack a smile as the earth opens before me, the ever autumnal trees thin at this boundary. "Well aren't you a pretty little bird!" I sing out, warm sunlight drawing long lost rainbows from my coat when I emerge. "What brings a pretty bird to my lonely neck of the woods?" My head cocks to one side, electric blue eyes dancing across her figure.
She's regal as they come, for sure. Prim and pretty as a lily in the meadow, and much more shiny. I puff a lock of flamesque forelock from my eyes, wings fluttering distractedly. Always there is something moving, twitching, jostling on me. Making up for moons of frozen lifelessness, maybe. The phantom touch of a long dead ghost presses on my hip, and I flinch, teeth bared. "Go away," the snarl leaves my throat, aimed at that which I cannot see. They giggle in uncaring reply.
The other woman's voice erupts nearly sing-song, but Oceane is unable to determine if there is anything warm contained within it; it feels like an inside joke, or an accusation, hidden behind the smile that she has painted across her face. The Loessian woman offers a polite smile in response but is unable to muster much more - Lepis' death remains at the forefront of her thoughts, blocking any desire or ability to entertain whatever it is that she is being greeted with.
“Are you Sabra?” she inquires hesitantly as her gilded eyes collide with the woman's blue ones; her gaze shifts momentarily to observe the rainbows that flash across her pelt from the sunlight, and then it returns from whence it came. What brings a pretty bird to my lonely neck of the woods? Oceane rustles the lavender wings at her side and clears her throat to speak just as the other woman whispers go away in a low hiss.
It seems misdirected, or even undirected, leaving the Queen feeling off-kilter by the encounter. “Is... is somebody bothering you?” She asks with an inquisitive tilt of her head before remembering the importance behind her business here. “My name is Oceane,” she charges ahead and takes a deep depth before spilling forth the information that she dreaded to speak aloud, “I've come to introduce myself and share some news. Lepis and I led Loess side-by-side, but now she...”
A hiccup in her words, the tightening of her throat once more. Oceane does her best to repress the sadness long enough to get the words out.
I teeter back and forth on my heels, slow as a rocking chair. There's something familiar about this vibrant mare, something I can't quite place. With a bobbing of my head I agree. "Yes, I rather think so." I reply, the notes of my voice leaving room for doubt. "I am mistress of these woods."
My smile freezes to my lips at her inquiry, icy hardness to my gaze. "It's only you and me," I assure her, and this time there is no doubt. No leeway for debate. And then I laugh. As if she and I are in on one big secret, one that needs no explanation. They mustn't think they've rattled me. Shaken me like a screaming rabbit in a dog's mouth. No, that won't do.
Then I'm blinking, the words she'd spoken taking an extra moment to process in my mind. Ah yes. "Pretty name," I comment offhand, considering the rest of what she'd said. The implication being that Oceane now ruled alone. "Sorry for your loss, I'm sure. Lepis was a... unique mare." She was, at that. Kind enough, I think, but far too inclined to her magic. Far too dependant. And I find that I am jealous of her end.
With a shrug I gesture one winged toward the sky. "That does explain the dreadful smoke we had." I wonder if I had breathed in some charred fragments of the dun pegasus mare. How horrid, to have bits of her inside me.
I let my wings fall to my sides once more, relaxed as I can make them. My gaze is fixed unblinking now on the shimmering woman. Is there more she came to say, or is our audience at an end? I will let the quiet stretch until she decides.
She's quite unsure what to make of the variegation-winged mare; there is something off, something potentially dangerous, in the way she seems to swing back and forth between lucid and not. It makes her question, silently, who else may remain in these golden woods beside Sabra - but that is a worry to investigate at another time.
The Queen of Sylva confirms that they are alone and the certainty in her voice gives rise to gooseflesh along Oceane's spine. There's certainly not much else she's come to share with Sabra, though, and that somehow gives the Loessian Queen comfort - her visit will soon be over, and she will be able to go home to grieve in peace.
“Thank you,” she responds formally to the condolences offered and then nods, her lips pursed, at the comment regarding the smoke. “Y-yes...” she adds in affirmation, her voice a bit shaky as she begins to pivot back towards Loess.
“But if you'll excuse me, I need to return to Loess. Please come visit soon, if you find yourself in the airspace above.”
So we are at an end, it seems. My lips stretch wider, a smile charming as the edge of a knife. I nod agreeable, one forefoot striking out to crease the mulch. A bird explodes from behind us, shrill and wild as it wings towards the hidden sky. It makes me flinch with its suddenness, with its unexpected sound. My teeth snap in a brutal reflex, catching on nothing but air.
My sides heave for a moment, heart rate elevated painfully until I drop my eyes back to the shimmering mare. I get the queasy sensation of looking in a still pool, my reflection eerie and imperfect as she looks back at me. A potential that never came to be. My mouth twists with a sour taste, and I am done with this audience.
She seems to feel queasy herself, like she can't get out of here fast enough. That's fine by me. "I'll do that," I promise, eyes narrowed at her turning back. To visit Loess, yes, that seems a plan worth exploring. Perhaps once Balto returns... But that will be some time yet. "Fair winds!" I call to her retreating form, watching her wings as they capture the light and air. "Don't forget me." Too quiet to be heard. Still. She would do well to heed the quiet advice.
With a huff, I paw at the earth, drawing scars in the black soil beneath the leaves. "Now. What did you want?" The Voices titter behind my ears, whispers of blood and violence curling ever more from their unseen lips.
