"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
The black of her pelt shined as she stepped into the newly dusted white field, her glowing star a small flash of glitter above the sheet of white beneath her black hooves. She stood scanning this place- not really sure what she thought of being back, but knew she wasn't all to pleased to be here. This place that was filled with monsters who killed others because they were not blessed with special traits, (and shunned those who didn't have enough of a trait) and the gods that didn't seem to care to protect those who were simply born with less fortune than others. She thought back to Oswyn, her mother, always so spiteful to her and that damned trait obsessed Queen, Elite, who (ultimately) made her that way. Her mother was so forgiving, no fawning, with Khaos, and his stupid metal body- he didn't do anything for it- so why does it even matter? Her mother must have been blind to the fact she was aware of the favoritism-- or just didn't care. She had left as soon as she could- the Valley was not the place for her and this damned Bequanna could screw itself too.
Now, however, as she stood there, slender arabian lines showing more than her mutt ones, she was not as angry, no the anger was faded, but in its place left a hardened shell.Many said she was mean, others saw her as darkly humorous. Her experiences of constantly be handed the crap end of the stick had made her bitterly sarcastic, and toughened. She was not one to tiptoe around something, and would likely bite your head off if you misstepped. She saw the others in the field falling in love with the grand idea of a family, a support system, a...whatever, and she wanted to laugh allowed. She shook her finer featured head at the stupidity of it- they were blind to the hood being pulled over their eyes. She continued to look around, knowing there would be some sweet-ol- beasty that would come over thinking she was shaking her head out of nerves or self pity, and try to rescue the pretty little thing that she was. She hoped it would happen so she could chase away those silly little things. She didn't need-or want- some white night. She was a looker- and many thought she would be a sweet princess because of it. 'Cause how could a slender framed, fine-featured, fit fae with a glowing star of a tiara not be a princess? She thought it was all a great laugh the universe was having at her expense. She was curious who would come, who would want her...and if they could handle her.
She wasn't really sure if she would go with anyone, but this place was full of monsters... there had to be one that might make her intrigued. She knew a herd could turn on you in an instant, but screw it; she'd bring hell to any who tried to mess with her. So why not just let the game play out.
She leaves again. This time she only hesitates for a moment at the jungle’s border. She does not take the time to reminisce on times long gone. Beqanna is on the brink of war, and the Amazons intend to jump right into the fray. Aoi stifles a wash of emotions over the matter. She feels exhilarated, and scared all at once. Her early years in the jungle spent training alongside her sisters had prepared her for a time such as this. A time that she never thought she would see, but one that was undoubtedly here.
Since her reawakening, she had renewed her vow of loyalty to the Amazons. Her Mother Jungle, who had protected her from the floods, and breathed life into her again. In the scheme of things, Aoi is just another body to fuel the front lines. She holds no rank. She harbors no magic to make her any more, or less of an asset to the kingdom. The thought of coming face to face with a magician in the midst of battle should send a shiver of fear down her spine. But, she owes her life to the jungle. Already she has lived longer than she should have, although it would be difficult to tell by looking at her.
Aoi is little different than any other kingdom horse. Her body is well trained. She has been working each morning to improve her stamina since her trip to the Deserts. She is fueled with ambitions not unlike other kingdom horses. She smiles at her improvement, the ease of her breathing, as she makes the trek from her home to the Field. The rest of the world is still strange to her. She much prefers the cover of the jungle to the open plains, but Aoi soon discovers a sense of freedom as she gallops through open plains of white snow. For a moment she laughs gleefully, out of breath, and wet with shiny sweat despite the cold. She slows before entering the Field, her breath pluming in thick white clouds.
Beyond the veil of hot breath, Aoi sees a black mare standing haughtily nearby. Aoi has no doubt that she is expecting to be bombarded with attention. In the two times that she has made the trip here, she had noticed much. Many of the mares that came here in search of homes seemed shy, almost ashamed. Then, there were others, like the black mare before her, that seemed to be here for a purpose. Aoi is impressed enough to approach. The Amazons needs more strong women to fill its ranks.
“Hello, my name is Aoi.” She says, coming to stand beside the black mare with the glowing white star. “Have you heard of the Amazons?” She asks with a hint of a smile. She is still plenty warm from her run, but her lack of winter coat will soon make things quite uncomfortable. She will not be able to stay for long. Best to cut to the chase.
Katacylsm didn’t wait long before she heard an approach. It was light, surefooted; the feet struck the ground lightly- a sign that the beast coming her way was fit. Her eyes flashed with amusement, her mouth twitched in a grin for a moment before she looked to see who approached. The amusement was short lived- as the beast that approached did not have the frame of a stallion. No- a sleek coated fae approached instead. What was she to do with this? Girls rarely recruited in the land she had ventured to over the past months, but again the forsaken place was full of oddities. Kat tilted her head in confusion as the recruiter approached, deciding if she even wanted to wait to see what it was about. She wasn’t here to make some grand friendship with some new horse that needs kinship in Bequanna. She can go find someone else to skip through fields of daisies with. After another moment of observation it was obvious the approacher was not a newbie. She smelled like this land too strongly- and her eyes were more determined than most newbies.
She cocked her hip, and looked at the fae, Aoi she said her name was, like a teen looks at an adult who is seemly annoying them with some tidbit of information they do not care about. Her body language screamed indifferent and her words were pretty stone cold as well- she was not a bubbly thing. “Kat.” No one called her Kataclysm anymore- kind of how people change their names in rebellion- but for Kat it was about separating from her past. She listened to the patched mare speak further, as she simply stared at her as Aoi spoke the most obvious thing in the world. When she finished her question Kat blinked at her, tilted her head and spoke, “Yeah, I know of it. What about it? While her words are frank, her tones are not cruel, more….apathetic.
Everything about her is a shield built up quickly and thickly by the cruelness of her mother. The indifference she shows, and her quick quips keep everyone at a comfortable distance. No one put up with her- she figured that if she found people who did- then they must be worth keeping around. She had yet to find it- and each time the disappointment added to her shield. Part of Kat didn’t want to distrust every being she met; but no one had proven her wrong yet. Somewhere, hidden beneath the layers of distrust, hurt, and mommy-issues- she was kind and fiercely loyal. Kat knew it at her core, but if anyone else knew- it was beyond her.
Aoi’s mother had taught her kindness, and justice. The Jungle had taught her survival. The Jungle blood within her had stirred up her need to fight, and feel the rush of battle. Even as a child, her mother had taught her to quell that feral need, to use her words instead of force. But, the Jungle voices always fought against that cage of diplomacy. Kindness and justice always struggled against that need for blood that came from being a daughter of the wilds.
When she was younger, less in control, she might have been more likely to pick a fight with Kat than she was to try and recruit her. Even now, now that she is older (wiser, even) she has to stifle the primordial urge to fight and to dominate. Kindness still feels peculiar upon her lips. If it weren’t for her mother, the niceties would be replaced with teeth, and squeals, and ringing tails.
Yet Kat’s indifference towards Aoi is expected. The Amazons are full to the brim with strong personalities (to put it nicely) and territorial displays. A flash of a smile betrays her. She is amused.
“Would you like to see the Jungle?” she asks. Perhaps, this could be Kat’s chance to break away and start anew. “Or would you rather wait for Charming to come sweep you away?” She jabs, testing her limits. Simple conversation can be so dull. She isn't here to make friends either.
She leaves again. This time she only hesitates for a moment at the jungle’s border. She does not take the time to reminisce on times long gone. Beqanna is on the brink of war, and the Amazons intend to jump right into the fray. Aoi stifles a wash of emotions over the matter. She feels exhilarated, and scared all at once. Her early years in the jungle spent training alongside her sisters had prepared her for a time such as this. A time that she never thought she would see, but one that was undoubtedly here. 
