[open] A Time Lost

[Jesper]

A sudden lurch brings the silver fox to his paws. Moments ago, he was curled up, with his canine snout tucked into his thick tail. He blinks a few times while his drowsy brain tries to process what is going on. Beneath his padded feet, he can feel the vibrations of the land he stands on. It is chaotic; rocking and pitching, this way and that. Jesper can hear the black waters crashing violently against rock. He can smell the smoke and char of the Isle burning. He senses danger. A wave of uncertainty and then, panic, spurs him forward.

His first steps falter as the ground gives way beneath him. Jesper feels the need for haste and, presses on. His bounds turn into a full strided run. The fox-shifter can not be sure where is safe though, he doesn't waste time looking around. His ciel blue eyes focus on the immediate ground ahead of him. It is quivering and shaking though, for now, it seems intact. He heads towards the coast and, upon reaching it, the ash-hued canine morphs into his coal black equine bod. Jesper wastes no time and dives into the angry waters. His equine limbs are stronger than that of his fox form. They cut through the stormy sea and propel him through.

He charts a course to the mainland. Whatever angered Beqanna enough to sequester his safe-haven, was unknown to Jesper. He deduces that the safest place now would be a common land. He didn't wish to discover what the aftermath holds and so, he continues to pump his legs until the familiar treeline of the Forest comes into view. That swim was, by far, the longest one he had ever voluntarily completed. When his tired limbs clamber onto solid ground again, Jesper finds that he needs to stand a few moments in order to recalibrate his balance, and his breath. Thank Goodness for adrenaline to get me through the rough waters. And, warmer temperatures towards the end, the male though to himself.

From this spot, at the edge of the Forest, the scene is very familiar. This brings comfort to the black stallion since his aquamarine gaze did not recognize any of the adjacent lands. The Forest was a refuge for him as a young adult and thus, will always be his preferred common spot. With his respiratory rate back to normal, Jesper wills his fatigued muscles to go back to work. He pushes himself between two Elm trunks and, winds through the maze of poplars, birches, elms and spruces. His nares find comfort in the dank smell that overpowers his olfactories. While picking his way over the leaves, tree roots and rocks, Jesper takes time to pause and snack upon the sporadic patches of grass, among the moss. His senses periodically survey his surroundings for anything that isn't his molars grinding forage, his calm exhale or, the harmony of the Forest.

[Raea]

Raea

She cannot explain the emotion that she feels when the shift in atmosphere happens.

She does not know what caused it—still does not fully understand how the magic here works, because it feels different from what she had known in both Baltia and Stratos—but as the water recedes it is almost as if the whole world sighs in relief. For her, she has only known Beqanna as it recently was. She has only known the flooded lands and crumbled kingdoms, and the skeptical, sometimes suspicious stares that her appearance often inspires. There are other water creatures here, she has learned, and a multitude of abilities from the sky, but they had been born of Beqanna’s magic.

She was different.
They saw her eyes, and it was as if they at once knew she was not one of them—the unsettling blackness of them split by silver pupils—just as Stratosians back home used to do the same. Just the same, the Baltians were never appeased by her eyes, staring instead at the sunrise-colored feathers that adorned her neck, or grimacing at the gentle breeze her aura often created.
And try as she might, she could not shake the feeling that the Beqannas didn’t much care for her either. She was an outsider, after all, an outsider from a place that sent their own home into turmoil. She does not think they would care much to discover that she was an outsider in both Baltia and Stratos, too.

Despite her unease, curiosity gets the better of her. Beqanna was vastly different from Baltia and Stratos, and far larger than the deserted island her parents had raised her on. Now that it was not mostly water she could see that it was far larger than she had initially thought, and the realization was a bit overwhelming. She decides to stick to the forest, as it was one of her favorite places—she has never seen anywhere else with trees like this, growing so tall and tight in some places that the sunlight can hardly reach.

Where she does not have to think about the ocean or the sky.

Through the stands of trees she sees the stallion, alone, and for a moment she hesitates, contemplating if she should try to slip away. But she can’t help but to wonder if he knows what had happened — why the lands suddenly changed, and maybe if he knows what happened to Baltia and Stratos. Before her nerve can vanish she cautiously steps closer, the shadows peeling away as she steps into the dappled sunlight. “Hello,” she greets him, her voice quiet and unsure, before she asks tentatively, “Do you…do you know what happened? With the lands?”

@ Jesper

[Jesper]

Although the deep recesses of the Forest remain chilly, Jesper reserves the warmth of his canine pelt for extreme conditions. His environmental adaptation helps him to easily  adjust to the fluctuations between night and day. The ink-hued steed ambles along without much of an agenda. He pauses, here and there, to smell the occasional plant or, more closely inspect a curious shadow. His senses are in tune with his surroundings. He singles out the delicate musk of the lady amongst the stench of the woods. He knows she draws close, way before the words leave her lips. He remains rather unphased until her gentle tone cuts through the murmurs of the Forest.

Her "Hello," lifts his poll from its lowered position. Aquamarine eyes search until they focus on her unique chassis. He had heard of Baltians, with their aquatic traits. And, also, of Stratosians, with their avian traits. This dame appears to be a hybrid. Her question triggers a sporadic train of thought. I have yet to see a Baltian or, Stratosian in the flesh and, now, I see both at the same time! What did happen in the latest quest? I didn't participate so, I don't know exactly. How does a bird breathe underwater? He shuffles his weight amongst his quad limbs and lowers his gaze from her black pools with silver reptilian slits.

He considers how to reply a moment longer before the onyx steed starts with, "Hello,  there." His tone is warm and eager, hoping to encourage her to stay. He could sense the tension in her form and, chooses to stay where he is so that he does not make her more uncomfortable. "I am afraid that I do not know all of the details. There was a quest, recently, on the Mountain. It prompted the fairies to change things up. I did not take part in that quest, though." He offers the lady a compassionate smile before adding, "My name is Jesper, by the way. Where did you used to live?"

@Raea

[Raea]

Raea

After a lifetime of critical stares from strangers based on her appearance — her Baltia eyes and water wings, her Stratosian feathers and aura — she cannot shake the unease that she feels each time she approaches a stranger. She knows that her home’s history does not hold the same weight to the residents of Beqanna, or at least, it did not used to. While they would not resent her for being the product of warring kingdoms, she could not ignore the nagging worry that they had an entirely different — and well-deserved—reason to despise her on sight. They were, after all, a casualty in a war they had not even asked to be a part of.

But the stallion before her seems kind, and she finds herself beginning to relax ever so slightly. The nervous wind that had been circling around her, causing her feathers to stir and shift, finally quiets at his gentle greeting. The worry does not quite fade from her eyes — difficult though it may be to see such a thing in eyes so black — but she does manage a small smile in return.

She listens to what he says, and a faint frown forms on her face. “The mountain? What takes place at the mountain?” She has perhaps heard some things whispered about the mountain—a place of magic, that truthfully to her sounded more the stuff of fairytales and not something that was actually real. Where she was born they did not have a place such as that, a place where you could go to ask for gifts or partake in adventures that had the ability to shake the entire world.

She is about to explain that she is not from here — afraid that he will think her foolish for not knowing something that clearly must be widespread knowledge — when he asks her that very question. She is almost grateful for it, until she realizes she does not know the answer. Baltia and Stratos did not come from a world with a name. There was Baltia, and Stratos, and if you did not live there, you lived nowhere. And Raea, a half-child of both with no way to survive in either place, had been raised on an island with no name. “I grew up not far from Baltia and Stratos,” she finally says, the uncertainty creeping back in. “My parents thought it was safer, since the kingdoms were fighting and I…I looked too much like the enemy, to either side.” The wind had begun to rustle around her again, her sunrise-colored feathers shifting and stirring, but she offers him another tight smile through the tension that she cannot loosen, and introduces herself: “My name is Raea.”

@ Jesper