"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
10-01-2015, 10:36 PM (This post was last modified: 10-03-2015, 08:58 AM by MischeifManaged.)
The Chestnut Rabicano mare trots into the field full of green grass, it's spring now and the birds are chirping and the animals are awakening after a long cold winter. The young female stands and watches the animals move excitedly around the area. She was very observant for her age her lilac blue eyes showing her old soul and her wisdom beyond her years. She, unlike her brother, was quiet and didn't act her age. In fact she acted at least twice her delicate age of 4 years. She had good manners and a intelligent edge to her voice. The young fea wondered here to find a friend that shared her love for the smaller details in life. Like how the grass moved and waved in the soft warm breeze, or how the chipper wood peckers searched for a tasty insect in the bark of the trees, or how the soon to be mother doe wattled around plump with fawn. Her dainty ear pricked forward at the sound of running water. She took off in a slow trot her Arabian traits showing profoundly in the way she carried her self, her tail flagged and flowing behind her, her small ears pricked and her neck arched in a slight but attractive arch. She finally made it to a small creek running to a clear pond. She dipped her small dished head and took small sips of the cool water. She relished the feeling of the cool liquid running down her throat and hydrating her body. She finished her drink and walked to the edge of the field again and couldn't help but wonder to herself. Will she belong anywhere with anybody? Will she ever find a equine that shared her love of the little things in life? A small warm breeze blew and her long brown and red mane waved framing her small face as she was lost in her own thoughts.
Winter has finally faded away into the energy of spring. The trickster is grateful for the fact that the chill of snow and ice has disappeared (although the replacement of springtime drizzles and thunderstorms isn’t all that great either). The winter season leaves a cold ache to spread in his bones, primarily in his forelegs (the forelegs that the dark magician broke and sewn back together, the forelegs that bore the scars of bones that split through his skin, the forelegs that forced him to bow), and the dull pain doesn’t fade until the middle of spring.
His walking isn’t as fast and long as it normally might be on this springtime day. Nonetheless, it is still smooth and gangly, head bobbing lightly in time with each step he takes. His trip to the field brings back memories (memories of recruiting for the Valley, memories of meeting mares, memories of standing on the sidelines watching kingdom members and herd stallions compete for someone’s attention).
The field is bustling (full of mares heavy with child, stallions casually enjoying their day, and a mother doe nimbly taking refuge from the predators among the protection of horses) as he steps into the sunshine. Although there are still piles of snow melting on the ground around him, they are easily avoidable. He steps onto the growing springtime grass, bruised eyes (the left blue and white, the right blue and black) glancing around for someone who might seem interesting. He’s not quite sure what he’s here for (he isn’t currently involved in a kingdom, he doesn’t have a herd of his own – although that could change, and he isn’t on any secret missions), but he looks nonetheless.
That’s when his gaze lands on the delicate mare getting a drink from the water pooling below the waterfall. Her breeding speaks of a strong heritage, while her young looks cause him to think she isn’t very far into her years. She is young, innocent, and naïve. She is a perfect girl for him and his noble (oh, the laughter in the background) personality.
As she moves toward the edge of the field, he creeps along in the shadows, not walking straight across the field. Although the shadows are chilling and the sun is satisfying, he finds the darkness comforts him much more soothingly than the light does. He allows the miniature sandstorms that usually swirl around his ankles to sleep today, but instead allows his illusionism out to play. It coddles against his body, swirling around his face, and transforms him into someone completely different in the eyes of the gentle mare.
Rather than seeing a gangly, sharp-boned trickster, the chestnut sees a handsome knight (although his coloring remains the same – silver bay – his build has changed; thick, strong muscle replaces sinewy strength, striped white lightning markings from destroying his own corpse fade into the silvery bay of his coat, bruised eyes are replaced with a gentle, charming coffee brown). He is the picture of the perfect stallion in the mind of an innocent young mare, and he knows it.
Although, this image is one only the mare can see, with her eyes covered by the mask of trickery.
“Greetings, miss.” His voice comes out a low tune (something else he has distorted from within her ear) and sweet to hear. “It’s dangerous to come out to the field unaccompanied, unless you’re looking from trouble.” He smiles gently (although the feeling of smiling in a – oh, ew – gentlemanly way feels strange on his lips) and nods in a gracious bow of the head. “My name is Kii. What’s yours?”
we all carry these things that no one else can see they hold us down like anchors; they drown us out at sea
It does not take long for Magnus to find his way back to the field—this time, with purpose in his heart. He can feel it stirring up ghosts in his belly, and he breathes easily from the sensation of it. For the first time since he had crawled back from the sea, he knew what he had to do: he had to help the Gates. If not for himself, for the memory of her. it would be what Joelle wanted. She would want her, and her father’s, kingdom to thrive again—to overcome the recent tragedies that have struck it.
And he would help make it so.
So his shoulders are straight with each step, his handsome head lifted as he looked around the field for those souls who might call Heaven home. But that is not what he sees—not at first. Instead, he sees the sharp-edged stallion and the young mare, and his gut twists with suspicion. He doesn’t know why, and he can’t put a name to it, but before he can stop himself, he is moving toward the pair, his dark eyes moving from Lokii to the mare before nodding. “Hello to you both,” his voice is throaty—smoke and ash. He holds the other stallion’s gaze steady for a moment, evaluating him, before turning toward the mare.
“My name is Magnus.” There is another pause before he gives a shadow of a smile, his lacerated lips curled in the edges. “I wouldn’t be too concerned about the dangers of the field. There are usually more good souls than the bad. You should be safe here.” His gaze slips back to the stallion beside him, and there are unspoken things that he does not dwell on. Magnus had always trusted himself in a fight, regardless of whether he fought the mystical or not. “Although there’s nothing wrong with wanting a little trouble.” At this, he winks a little, trying to lift the suddenly heavy mood of the conversation.
The small mare sighed as she felt the warmth of the sun hit her chestnut and frosted pelt warming her bones from the chill of the dying winter she closed her lilac blue eyes and relished the heat before a scent invaded her nostrils, another equine, she opened her eyes and scanned the area looking for the source of the smell. She didn't find him right away but he came into her view and she evaluated the stallion before her. There was something about him that made her mind wonder slightly, he seemed almost to perfect. Her eyes drank every inch of him in, his height, his build, his eyes, and now the tone of his voice as he greeted her. She smiled politely and dipped her head gracefully "Greeting to you sir" she said her voice full of wisdom and some sort of superiority. "It depends on one's intentions for this place, to cause trouble. My intentions on coming here are not for that reason you see" she said holding her head higher and dipping her chin just slightly and cocking an eyebrow her eyes searching his. The stallion spoke yet again stating that his name was Kii then he asked for hers which she responded in a polite, bell like tone " Nice to come upon you Kii, My name is Keeva" She said a small smile on her muzzle as she returned his own smile.
The moment when she thought the two were alone she caught another equines scent coming towards them she looked in the direction to see another stallion coming their way. She had to be honest with her self, when she arrived in Beqanna she didn't expect more then one equine to greet her, more or less two stallions. She flicked her tail as the other male got closer. She flicked her head to get her long forelock out of her wide lilac blue eyes "Greetings" she said as the stallion spoke to them in greeting. Then again he spoke about the subject of trouble. His statement caused her to chuckled slightly "I take it you like the thought of trouble, stallion?" she said not knowing his name but already liking his sense of humor. She watched the stare down between the stallions tension growing thick between the two powerhouses. She shifted her weight to her left side and then asked "What are you two lovely gentlemen doing strolling the fields?" she said looking at each of them in turn.
in the morning when I wake and the sun is coming through, oh you fill my lungs with sweetness and my head is filled with you
It felt good to no longer have the extra weight slowing her down now that she had given birth to her child. The experience hadn’t been as bad as she thought and taking care of Ciri was a welcome distraction to the loss of her memory. Nothing had come back to her and she was starting to lose hope that she would ever remember anything again. Although she loved her little girl, she couldn’t stop thinking of the way Ramiel had looked at her when he realized she had been with child. It made her stomach roll with anxiety and she didn’t know why. She had been avoiding him since then and as soon as she felt up to it, she hit the Field. Perhaps bringing home new members would make things less awkward between them. So the white mare leaves her child back in the safety of the Dale, knowing that she would be looked after by it’s inhabitants.
Her thoughts are everywhere as she makes the trek to the open space of the homeless. Ciri had questioned her about her father and as soon as she was old enough, she knows she should take the girl to find him. However she doesn’t know where to find Atrox. Their meeting had been unexpected and blurred, one she couldn’t quite recall and she blames her amnesia for flaring up again. Her only thought is to bring Ciri to the Meadow and perhaps by luck they would find him there. She holds no bad will towards the stallion, he hadn’t been unkind to her although perhaps he had taken advantage of her vulnerable state.
Green blades of fresh grass brush against her hocks as she heads towards a small gathering in the Field. A mare is already being spoken to by two stallions and she can’t help but grin when she recognizes one of them. ”So we meet again.” She laughs softly towards Magnus, her blue eyes glittering happily as she throws her muzzle out in greeting. The nagging feeling in her mind instantly tugs at her brain once more as she looks at him. What was it about the buckskin that seemed so familiar? Trying to ignore the frustrating feeling that mounts as she tries to place her finger on it, she turns her attention to the other two. ”Hello I’m Soliel of the Dale.”
As I meander back to the falls, I see four horses in the distance. May as well chat. "Hello, I am Chezter of the falls. You are welcome there. Or if you wish to live the life of a herd, I know a few stallions who are wishing to start a herd." I say, trying my luck yet again on a mare.
The mare’s curious eyes upon his skin almost call a smirk to tug at his lips, but he forces it down with sheer determination. Any sign of his true self (of that smirking grin, of that mischievous glint in his eyes, of that purring tone, of that streak of showiness) might reveal to the mare his true intentions. And his true intentions are things he doesn’t wish for the mare, or anyone, to find out about. Nonetheless, he knows he has done well in manipulating her eyes to see someone different when he spots that look in her gaze.
Her words cause the trickster to tip his head to the side slightly, as if he were purely intrigued by her words. “And what intentions might those be, miss?” His sweet, deep voice plays out into the lobe of her ear, tenderly singing into her mind.
Before he can get to know this mare better, another stallion approaches. The trickster can feel the suspicious glare of the other stallion before he speaks (it lingers on the gangly build the stallion sees – a build so different from what the mare sees), but he pays no mind toward it. Any indication that something is off about his appearance that the female might notice could reveal his true nature to her.
The conversation of trouble (oh, the irony of it all) causes the troublemaker himself to laugh, and his coffee brown eyes dance with amusement in the eyes of the mare. “Be that as it may, Magnus, I much prefer the realms of peace and stability to the ‘thrills’ of troublemaking and uncertainty.” The words burn on his tongue, but he chokes down the rising sense of sickness in his stomach (never once did he ever expect himself to say such words). He holds the stallion’s gaze with his own bruised one, head tipped slightly as if confused by his suspicion.
The mare asks the pair of them what they are doing in the field, but soon two others are approaching. One – the male – is quick to leap into his advertisement for the Falls. The other – the female – introduces herself simply and shows her obvious familiarity with the first stallion. Turning toward the pretty young chestnut, the trickster shakes his mane out as if to rid himself of the suddenly crowded company.
“Miss Keeva, I am here because I am searching for good company. You see, I have spotted a cozy little territory that I am looking to call home, but do not yet have any friends to call it home with.” He speaks ‘friends’ rather than ‘pretty little dolls’ and ‘company’ rather than ‘a slew of broodmares to pass on my genes’ because he is playing the character of a noble, gentle stallion and not his true self. “I would love to get to know you better, but I’m afraid I prefer one-on-one discussion rather than a large crowd.” He smiles toward the others at this, as if hoping there are no hard feelings in the wake of his words.
“If you would like to come with me, I would absolutely love that. Or if you would rather speak with these good fellows, feel free. I’m planning on making the Echo Trails my home, if you ever want to stop by.” He nods to the others, and then turns his attention back toward her briefly. Coffee brown eyes latch onto hers, almost pleading her to feel the fact that he “wants” to get to know her better than he has in the short time so far.
In her mind she is taken aback, whats this? Four people coming to greet her? Certainly she isn't that interesting? She looks at the pale mare that says she id from the Dale and seemingly familiar with Magnus "It's nice to meet you Soliel" then she turns to the chestnut stallion "Greetings it is also a pleasure to meet you Chezter" she said bowing her head slightly at the two of them before her ears flicked towards Kii whom decided to speak to her directly practically ignoring the other three individuals that where around the small mare.
Keeva listened to the tall stallion his deep voice reverberating in her body and mind making it slightly hazy. Her lilac blue eyes watched his lips moved as he spoke to her, she waited till all the speaking was done before she opened her mouth to start speaking "My intentions are that of pure and innocent traveling, nothing troublesome. We share a similar trait I am also looking for good company and good conversation. Why haven't you found and friends to settle in your home, you are certainly charismatic enough to find a companion. But I agree, I am not one for large crowds and several individuals to have a conversation with, tensions tend to run to high when you have more them one stallion. I would love to accompany you to your home in Echo Trails. It sounds lovely." she said her voice carrying to the other horses her eyes meeting theirs in a soft dismissal "Goodbye, I hope to meet you all again" She said before she walked to Kii's side her light eyes meeting his warm coffee brown ones, she nods telling him that she is ready to make the journey to her possible new home. "I am ready to travel when you are Kii" she said her tone soft and whispery as her head hazes up again at the close proxcimity to the stallion with the wonderful voice.
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in the morning when I wake and the sun is coming through,
