I Make the Circumstances [any]

[Fynnegan]

♦ Fynnegan ♦

It had been quite some time since I left me ma and pa. Their sweet little life with their soon to be sweet, but slightly larger, family. Me ma and pa were good folk. They were loving- raised me away from the temptations of power and the corruptions of a big realm like Bequanna. Ma told me stories of this place, of the rolling hills and fiery pits. The vast forests and scorching desert that house the dynamic beasts that I have dreamed of seeing in person all me life. Pa didn't care for me to come back here, he wanted a quiet life for me. I tried to make me pa happy by not returning here, I did, but ye can't deny your heart its dream. 


This place is a wonder it is. I just wish these damn little legs could carry me faster so I could see more. Wee little legs on a wee little horse- yes i know what good could I do here? Well that is what I came to find out. Me Ma would tell me to rise. Rise to the top, to power, to the occasion. Ay to rise- that is what I shall do. I am sure a wee little horse can find a place, I just want to see it first!  Ah the adventure. damn wee legs move faster there are places to go. This meadow is vast and there are wee folk on stilts to meet. Rise to the adventure.   

Me black coat is shiny, I know I must be drawing attention, I don't see others like me. I may look like a babe but I am full grown, Pa said I am from a line of proud Falabellas. Small ponies, but we have more heart than the big ones Ma would add. I perfect my stature making the most of my wee  size. I may be small but I am fine- if I do say so myself. My legs are short and meet my toned lean barrel. My ear come to a fine point and my face hold masculine features. Before I left the family, before me maw had weened Ryhnn, Pa had said I grew into a fine young thing, Ma added I would go far. I know I have reasons to turn heads. I have to make the right message, make the best impression- rise to the right occasion. 

I stop my wee little legs in a small clearing. I hoping into a rear, and I call for a foe- an friend- a meeting.  I am the son of Tierney and Harlequinn. I have their name to uphold. 

Come forward you giants, I wish to learn wha this land has to offer.

» death is nothing, but to live defeated and inglorious is to die daily «

ooc: i am still developing his style- I have never done first person before so feed is back welcome!

[Weir]

Summer has turned the bend again, as it always did, as was expected of it. Weir does adore its dependability, for there are few constants in his life. The russet stallion slowly walks into the Meadow, always slow. He takes the time to inspect the flowers, to whuff at a passing dragonfly that attempts to land on his nose. So few do these things now but he is ever curious, an unyielding thirst for knowledge- though he knows so much already.

He isn't sure who he will approach today, each time he comes there is a new crowd to mingle with. Though he does take note of a rather short stallion, how can he not? Weir doesn't often see Falabella roaming the gathering grounds, so it is likely why he takes particular interest in this one.

A stout, pitch colored male rears on stunted legs. The roan only tilts his head, slowly making his way over, an almost foot-dragging pace. He is ever the ambler, no sense of hurry when their is no hint of danger afoot. His ears tug forward as the smaller man speaks, calling forth the giants, and to that he can not suppress a chuckle. "Hulloo, sir" He strings the greeting out, calling loud enough to be heard over the dwindling distance. As he closes in he continues to speak, always one to jabber on.

"Good day good day, of which giants do you seek?" He ponders out loud, amber eyes warm as they look down at the pony before him. "I am called Weir, though I am no giant, why I can't say I'd enjoy meeting one either." He blinks, looking quite serious, of course how couldn't he appear so? Weir had read of giants before, like he had read of many things, and not all written was pleasant. "And you my fine Falabella friend," because of course they are friends, what ever would he do with an enemy? "What is it I may call you?"

His head dips, plucking a mouthful of sweet grass from the earth. He chews it and seems to regard the flavor, the texture. All the while, he stares happily at his new found companion.

WEIR

If you hurt me, that's okay baby, only words bleed

[Fynnegan]

♦ Fynnegan ♦

I wait patiently- something I prefer not to do. I waited patiently to get to Bequanna, I am tired of simply waiting.  I don't really know what I expect to happen, or even what I want to happen but something is better than nothing. I paw at the ground waiting; Pa said patience is a virtue, Ma said screw it- make your own virtue. I side with Ma, so when I hear the long drawn out greeting from the beast a ways off, I toss my head in greeting and trot up to meet him, I'm not waiting for those slow lumbering legs to meander to me when I can move on up to him too.

Once I stop and he stops he asks me about the giants I speak of.  What giants I think of? What giants don't i speak of? Hellllo all the damned beasts here are bigger than me. I feel myself wanting to yell make sure this beast knows I'm no fool, that I won't let back handed insults slide by. In the back of my mind my pa's voice is telling my to calm down- that I am being too excitable.  So I look him in the eye and nod, letting my voice fall gently.

Oh, no one in particular- it's just what i like to call you full sized types.

I know most expect my voice to be little, young and meek.But I hear my voice ring and it is full, deep, and strong. There is little about me that is what it seems- guess if comes with the size. I like to think of it as an advantage. One time ma and I were attacked, she saw the enemy approach and had me hide away, I was just a babe then, but she made herself look young. The attacker wasn't expecting a cunning little thing- she kicked him so hard that his cannon bone snapped, ok maybe not snapped but I was young and it sure sounded that way. I mean she kicked him plenty hard that he couldn't run after us- not quickly. Anyway, I mean that I am more than my little size and most don't see it, until later.

I am Fynnegan, nice to meet you, Weir. So what is there to do in this kingdom for a giant and a short legger?

I gave up at the beast, his kind curious eyes are welcoming and i am thankful for that.  I watch as he eats contently, and I am sure I could join him but I wish too much for adventure, so I wait patiently. Why must patience be some universal virtue? I'd much do without it.

» death is nothing, but to live defeated and inglorious is to die daily «

[Weir]

He chews and swallows before speaking, as is polite, though he does not always do so. He listens intently though one may not know, his eyes flick about the meadow, but he hears things still.

He chortles then, when told that this one called them (including himself) giants. "Oh-ho -ho many things I have been called my good fellow, never a giant though. I like to think I am of an appropriate, average height." He mulls this over for a moment, "No, no i should not think to enjoy being a giant, nasty creatures, and their tempers! Why I should think to run if I ever had the misfortune to see one, hmm?" All seriousness as he looks down at the glinting black stallion. Giants were formidable beings, every book had said so, and even the nice giants. Well, they could squash him just as easy as the bad ones, make no doubt about it. What if one were to sit on him by accident?

It's from his odd inner monologue that Fynnegan pulls him, asking him what there is to do. The russet roan turns his attentions back to the Falabella. "To do? Why Beqanna is on the verge of war my good man." He steps slowly, a walk and talk, yes that would be nice indeed. "I hear whispers, no one says it outright but it's coming surely." He thinks on these facts in a grave manner, though his mind turns numbers, percentages over and over. Why is it everyone wanted to leave things up to chance? No, a good solid number was the way to go.

"Do? Well, I have come to try my hand at recruiting for my Kingdom. It's the Dale you know, its a good place, we have a good King." He nods his head as if to cement his convictions. "We can look for new members together yes?" He forgets in that moment that Fynnegan was a potential recruitment, instead inducting him into the search without a further thought. "The Dale is a quite Kingdom, try as we might to fill it." A reflective look draws itself across his blazed face. "Oh, my word, where might you be from Fynnegan? What an unfortunate time to come to Beqanna, I must say." Not because the man was short, not because he couldn't help wherever he may choose. Simply it was an unfortunate thing indeed.

WEIR

If you hurt me, that's okay baby, only words bleed

[Fynnegan]

♦ Fynnegan ♦

I can't help but feel a little at ease with this gentle creature. He didn't push, poke or assume he seems to take everything in. I can't say it is too unlike myself, I enjoy to observe and learn...but I am pretty sure I have a shorter temper than this beast. I know there is little to no proof in that thought but I feel as if I have a good initial read on the lumbering lad beside me. I feel the warm summer breeze on my face and inhale the rich floral scents of the meadow. Something else is in the wind too, but I don't know how to place it- maybe it is just the static in the air here- just standard here but it is different. I catch the undertone of his words about giants. He may not be angered but my well-intentioned nick-name but he wishes not to be associated with the folklore creature. I nod my head making a mental not to not call the big ones giants anymore.

Well, then a giant you aren't my average height friend. I think I would not like to meet a true giant, some of you average types are big enough.

My side starts to itch and I reach back to nip at my irritated flesh. Darn mosquito, or fly, or other little blood thirsty pest- it is the only thing I hate about summer months- the bugs. I look back and see Weir chasing some story in his head, and I tilt my head slightly wishing I could follow his train of thought. It is an interesting thing to know someone's thoughts as they think them. I would think it fascinating to follow along someone else's train of thoughts as they whip and whirl back and forth. I see Weir's eyes snap back to focus and I look to him, knowing his train of thought had brought him back to me. I twist the poles on my head to catch his words....war? Maybe that was the static in the air. I don't think of ware often- not experiencing it in my life. I had been apart of a few attacks, and scuffles but never war. My thoughts are interrupted as the stallion besides me saunters forward, His pace is leisurely, and comfortable, for me that works fine- I can keep up easily with out running- darn wee legs. As I walk walk I swing my head slowly taking in my surroundings and being polite while looking at my companion while talking.

War? Why would people here have to fight about- there is plenty of- well everything- for everyone, no?

I flick my tail, knocking away a bug from my black side. I wonder what this war is about- always the curious one, I want to explore more. But I don't pry too much the basics will work for now- I don't want to seem war thirsty. It is just so exciting, Ma told me of the battles and the grand fights that would happen here. The stories were coming true and I can't help but be excited.I may feel differently in the moment- but until then I get to live the stories Ma told me. I realize I was lost in my own thoughts and give my attention back. Catching him saying something about Dales? Oh yes- I asked him what there was to do. Here i am so enraptured with war I forgot my own question.

I can't say I know much about the Dales, though a calm home sounds familiar to my own childhood home. My parents were from here- but the stories they told were more often about the somewhat mad creatures of Chamber, my ma's friends in the Amazons, or my Pa's adventures as a diplomat in the Gates. They left to raise their family in a quiet knoll outside Bequanna, and I left the knoll to make my own life here. But no matter, I think I would enjoy accompanying you, as long as you continue to share your bits of whispered gossip. Just so I can get more knowledge about this new land, and your kingdom.

I look up at the fellow that I find good company in, there are many places to go and people to meet, I wonder where he will take us next, or who he will introduce next.

» death is nothing, but to live defeated and inglorious is to die daily «

[Weir]

He laughs, as they mingle and fill their walk with pleasant chatter. Weir was never one to turn down conversation and his new found friend seemed just as eager for a bit of tongue wagging. "You are right, some are quite large enough I should think." He muses on the many residents of Beqanna, which had its fair share of differences as far as one's outer appearance went. "Not a giant indeed. Why, I should think it most uncomfortable to be one. Knocking your head against things would be a likely ailment, how dreadful." He squinted his eyes as though he imagined the discomfort of such  thing.

Opening his amber eyes, he spies the other reaching for an itch. When he has satisfied the irritant he looks back at Weir with a question of his won. What was all the hostility about? Well, that is a very good question, and he hadn't the greatest of answers. "Why the quarrel? Your guess is as good as mine ol' chap. Never have I heard of the Gates bringing such an unwarranted aggression. They visited the Dale once, most of them I found pleasant. A few of their customs are strange to me, I care not for them, but many things here are strange I suppose." Weir was not from Beqanna originally, but he had adjusted well enough he thought. "No, I can't say what it is that the Chamber had wished to gain by their attack, or what anyone hopes to gain that they would not already have. Perhaps they wish to be feared, maybe they want to claim the land as their own, or some underlying blood feud of which I am not aware."

He would really need to discuss the matter more with his king, perhaps with Elysteria, or Tiphon. If there was some past discord between the realms, surely they could shed light on the matter. Blinking, he looks down to his travel companion, smiling gently though his eyes whispered a disquiet mind. Weir was always thinking it seemed, so much information was stored in his mind, both a blessing and a curse from a happy accident as a child, when he had learned to read.

"The Dales are a peaceful land true, but I have no doubt each of my Kingdom mates would give their lives to protect it." He nods and says so with a snort, he knew the Daleans were a passionate group, and deadly loyal to their king. "It's the first place I've been that I've felt I truly belong enough to stay. I've never had that before" A wistful tone to his voice as they meander across the meadows. "Say! Why YOU could come to the Dale if you wished." The roan was finally realizing he was in fact in the presence of someone not yet pledged to any realm.

WEIR

If you hurt me, that's okay baby, only words bleed

[Fynnegan]

♦ Fynnegan ♦

The sun is still moving through the sky, time is still ticking on, but we seem to care less. I sense the air change, as if summer had clicked off and autumn had begun. I smile at the thought, summer just turning off as if seasons were some switch flicked on and off. I hear Weir talking about giants more and I nod in agreement- I can't think of a time I've ever hit my head on something- add that to the pro list of team wee legs and chuckle at the thought. We continue wandering, listlessly moving around groups and through the crisping grass. There is little I know about this place in its current state so I eagerly drink in his words as he explains the lands rising tension. I know I thought I was excited to witness a great war between kingdoms... but I don't know now. I am no fighter- I don't know how I would fair in a battle. I'm not fast, due to leg size, and I don't have much mass to drive any momentum. A grand battle, where all of Bequanna was in the thralls of battle just didn't seem so exciting. I am much too little for that, indeed, I would need more experience fighting. Yes, I will need to practice sometime.

My thoughts spiral as I burrow down the tunnel of this realization, though I pull myself back to the reality- which is that the war has yet to happen- and I was being rude. I was so lost in my thoughts my pace had slowed slightly, and I had fallen from the lad's shoulder to his haunch. I shove my little legs forward and frown slightly- terrible company I was at that moment. I hear his words about battle and not really knowing why they wish to fight. I make sure to give him my attention now, and make a mental note to apologize when he was finished. While I knew it wasn't a big insult- the mind twists and turns pulling us in different directions sometimes, he knew his manors. Blood feuds, raids out of boredom? This wasn't the adventure he thought he was getting coming here- but it would be an adventure none the less. I nod as he finishes, agreeing there were interesting factors to the angst in the air.

I apologize Weir, my friend, I seem to have been lost in my head for part of what you said, for i realized this is not a story I will be living from the outside, this isn't a story Ma would tell. This is my life, safety, and future. I find myself feeling....ill-prepared.

I don't explain how so, Weir while relaxed, was observant and seemed to have fair deductive abilities, he would understand my meaning. Weir has been wonderful company, a great first encounter. There are so many others I can't help but wonder how much his Kingdom has molded him. Were the Dales a scholarly group? Did they have debates about the ways the world works? Or were they more diverse? Like Weir can read my mind, he speaks of me going to the Dales. I nod, I think that would be lovely. If nothing else to see the peaceful home my companion speaks of. With a dip of my head, in a purposefully embellished bow, I smile and address his invitation

Why yes good sir, I think I should visit Dale. I would like to see this peaceful home and meet the others that have helped you feel so at home.

Feeling a little cheeky, I snake my little fine neck out and lightly nip at Weir's leg. Then take off at a full gallop. I call out as I put a little distance between us, after all- i deserve a bit of a handicap.

race you! Last one to the edge of the meadow is a GIANT!

I fling my hind legs out, stretching through my body, I use my head to help drive my torso in a helpful pattern. Head up when I hover above the ground momentarily, head down when I strike off the hard ground. I don't know how many times any of these four leggers had been a little pony like me at full gallop, but I assume the sight might give me a head start to the edge.

» death is nothing, but to live defeated and inglorious is to die daily «

[Weir]

And so it seems that Weir's relentless prattle has opened the door of possibility. What if? What if? What if? Isn't it always so? One can never be sure of where the path might lead, but they may take into consideration all outcomes. They could, he did, but they might- and that makes all the difference.

His ears swivel to listen, and perhaps a bit of worry leaks from Fynnegan. "Too right, but are any of us ever prepared?" He hums, bobbing his head as he walks, enjoying the reckless abandon of time. "Ah, but not to worry, there is plenty you can do I am sure of it! Just set your mind to it and fear not, destiny will find a way." A gentle smile spreads above his whiskered chin, he held hope that good could prevail. Perhaps it would too, if enough believed, and the agreement of his new friend is joyful. Come to the Dale he would, and Weir would be more than happy to take him.

He starts a bit in surprise, receiving a light nip on his forearm. With a dash the black pony leaps away, taking off with a teasing call. A giant? Him? Never! "Oh-ho you rascal you!" He chides in good nature, before giving a trot in his companions direction. "Tally ho!" He yells, tossing his head and sending his ginger hair flying about his face. Unsurprisingly he soon nears Fynnegan's rear, with a chortle he neighs loudly. "And Weir brings up the rear, vying for first place against the peoples favorite, Fynnegan the mighty." He does his best radio voice, calling the race as if over a loud speaker. "Ladies and Gentleman can he do it?" He squints his eyes to feign a look of determination.

Then he decides to up the fun factor, deftly disappearing from his racemate's left side and popping into appearance on his right. "I naughty move by Weir, that dastardly trickster!" He announces, still enjoying his play by play. Though as they near the Meadow's edge it is clear that Fynnegan will win, and Weir loses dramatically. The roan flops to the earth in a plague of shame. "Say it isn't so, cursed to be a giant!" He groans with exasperation, tossing his head to the grass.

WEIR

If you hurt me, that's okay baby, only words bleed

[Fynnegan]

♦ Fynnegan ♦

You know, I never thought my welcoming moments into Bequanna would be this calm. I thought it would be grand adventure, a land with constant happenings- in an in your face manor. Nothing about the grand stories Pa told me had anything to do with walking around a meadow. It had been pleasant, and I am curious to meet the rest of Weir’s herd. All these thoughts go through my head as I push myself forward, take a longer stride, drive myself harder. If you don’t have long legs, you have to make up for it in effort, which had to be obvious that I was working hard at this speed. I don’t think I have worked this hard to win at anything in a while, I must push myself more often, I know I must work at things now that I am here.

I inhaled deeply, and hear Weir give way to the chase, “Tally ho!” I feel a chuckle lift in my throat but it doesn’t really escape as my exhaled breath pushes it out and it sounds more like a cough or hiccup. I chance a glance behind me and there is my companion, eyes alight and mane whirling out behind him, gaining on me with little effort. I lower my head a little more playing the ever-serious jock, my sport was a serious matter and winning was not an option. I can barely keep the serious act up, as behind me is a radio voice, calling the second-by-second play. Weir whips up to my right, a quick glance sees he has settled his face in mock determination. The lad’s determination may be mock- but my effort is real- and the full out gallop was starting to get a little harder for me. I can’t help but look back again, and Weir is gone. Straight. Up. Gone! I look ahead, and almost slow up as he isn’t there and then I see him on my left, I think I nearly fall over due to the freight. How I stay upright and still galloping is beyond me. I laugh and call to my thespian racemate-

God bless Weir! I nearly fell over! What a freight you gave me!

We are at the edge now, and I am still a whisker’s length ahead- as weir has been playing the ever-theatrical actor. Weir doesn’t let the finale disappoint. Oh no, as I slow up to not run into the woods Weir collapses to the ground! Oh what a sight!! He flops his head with the crush blow of the heinous title of “giant.” My mane is unsettles, and my breaths are still short and quick this was quite the companion- he had layers that seemed to just keep expanding into this dynamic creature. He kept surprising me it was a welcome feeling…Yes, I would like know more of others like him, yes indeed.

A Giant’s crown must be heavy indeed to collapse the great competitor Weir the Wondrous!

I collapse in a heap of laughter, at the scene we just played out. Oh the scene, indeed; the start, middle, and end all equally magnificent. The grass feels cool and prickly on my sides as I take the time to cool off. My breaths calmed quickly due to the early autumn air; the crisp tang of aging leaves hitting my senses with each slower breath. I pull myself up, mane a bit of a mess, grass and debris clinging to me. My mane settled back into place as I twitch my muscles into a bit of a dog shake, a good post run settling. Weir and I had more traveling to do, and I was looking forward to it.

Come now Giant, I do believe we have more places to go, and people to see!

I wait for the chestnut to stand and tell me where we are going. I will get to see move of the famed Bequanna as we travel and surely there is more the tall lad had to share stored in his kind and wise head. I watch him and follow his lead- I didn’t mind following him, he was the good sort of lad.

[ooc; to gates….]

» death is nothing, but to live defeated and inglorious is to die daily «