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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "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


    white sand and turquoise waters; any
    #1


    So it's been a while since the dark palomino had been in Beqanna. Had he really missed all that much? From the looks of the meadows current thawing condition...eh, not really so much. Limbs bring the tall male easily over the crusted ground, long silvery tresses falling across those deep turquoise pools. His winter coat growing itchy but it was a secret blessing. That meant that soon the spring would arrive and followed by his favorite season of summer.

    A little toss sends the mane flicking backwards to settle over a single ear as he stood to observe the land. There were many faces in the meadow and none were familiar but that did not deter our simple vagabond. The need for freedom, to be nomadic, to drift where the wind blew him was attractive in his eyes. Bound to no one (well not yet at least). It wasn't so much as to be avoid responsibility but the lack of any other to share his simple life with mutual interests. It seems like most mares were so snarky that Van preferred his bachelorhood.

    Well enough of that.

    It was a new day and the sun was shining and the waters that thawed in the once frozen stream. He inhales deeply, high on the crisp bite of the fresh morning. A smirk touches the stallion's lips before the long forelock flops abruptly across his blue-green eyes.

    So much for an entrance.

    Van

    white sand and turquoise water





    ((forgive my crappy starter post Sad ))
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    #2

    I can guide you if you feel blind. I just need you to be willing to journey into my ill mind.

    It had been quite a while since the dark maroon colored girl had strayed from the shadows and out into the open where the potential of running into someone else was highly probable. It's not that she didn't like spending time with others, she just hadn't felt quite sociable. The silence of the dark forest had been welcoming. So welcoming, that you could almost say it had been comforting.

    She had always sought a quiet life after being raised as a princess. The busy bustle in her early life had been exhausting and enough to become a type of life that was not one she would ever want to continue to pursue... And so she didn't. She took to a life of travel and submitted to the wanderlust that ran rampant through her bloodline.

    With the graceful movements her mother, a once queen had taught her, Marjorie slipped through the trees and silently observed the pairs of horses gathered to discuss what would most likely be fluff to the ears in her opinion.

    She never knew how they did it. How the masses stood around talking all day about basically nothing. At least nothing of value, or juicy enough to peek in and listen to from a distance. How boring life must be when one can't even have a conversation full of fun and a bit of teasing each other with jokes and little quips.

    The mares eyes, almost black, slowly traced the spaces between the trees in search of something that may be worth her interest. Something that may even be worth investigating. It was then she caught sight of him. A flick of the mane and then a smirk quickly following caused a small smile tilt at the edges of her lips.

    It was the moment she saw his hair flop into his face that she could not hold back and let a soft laugh escape her, a breath of air hanging infront of her for a few moments before being carried away by the soft breeze. For a moment she watches him, before stepping forward and heading his way. Hooves crunching against the leaves and twigs that littered the forest ground, she easily came to a stop a bit away.

    "Hello," her voice is soft and sweet. She had always been the quiet type. Not overly loud unless excitement or adrenaline were coursing through her, and even then she was never the loudest in the bunch. Her small smile grew a bit more as she felt herself lean into the tree she was standing next to. "I'm Marjorie. And I noticed you made quite the entrance there." With a soft chuckle she glanced at the mess of forelock that had fell into the stallion's face. "Are you new around here? I haven't seen you before."

    marjorie

    knightley x hoxepin



    oops. sorry about whatever this is.
    this is my first time writing her in yearssss. xD
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    #3


    It can be quite the tricky task of moving hair from your face without the use of any hands but the young stallion manages. Clumsy but entertaining and with the slightest hint of embarrassment surfaces when he has finally completed the task of being able to see past those pale hairs. A satisfied and almost smug 'so there!' look crosses his face before the voice of a woman rouses him from his little dilemma.

    Turquoise hued pool meet the most splendid face he had yet to lay his eyes on...just as the forelock casually slips back. He tosses his head eagerly and thank the gods of Beqanna, it stays put. Her voice is light like a delicate snowflake, disappearing if you strained to capture it. She was the lovely hue of a hibiscus flower and rare as an orchid in winter but instantly Van can determine what he likes best is the way the slightly darker stripes gentle caresses her limbs. She is smaller than the stallion but nonetheless respectable. Pools trickle over her face, tracing it and holding the almost pit-less depths of her eyes. Inky and endless.

    She is electric. He can only witness what stands before him. Lobes flick to catch her introduction and it surges in his veins, his mind. The magenta woman is delicate and soft but beneath there is a rawness that he senses. It takes a moment for Van to shake his woodenness and for life to appear. He had seemed to zone out, hypnotized. A silly crooked smile crosses his masculine features and eyes lower for a moment but only to lift and meet the mare's gaze. "Oh-yes, well..." Van is awkward were seasoned stallions would not be. He stumbles over his words where more experienced males would sing sticky honey words in the presence of such a lovely mare.

    A moment passes between them and Van allows the silence to drift between them, eyes upon each other and he smiles for her. Of sunshine and honeysuckle, the warmth of that smile is shown for those dark, dark eyes of Marjorie. He tries to hide his own shyness, never one for much interaction honestly but this time around someone had pluck themselves up and placed themselves in his path.

    And so our sweet golden boy must conjure up his courage and talk to the curious, beautiful, delicate, gentle, pretty Majorie that had gone out of her way to ask his name.

    So there was a debt owed.

    "Van." Short, simple. Easy to forget. Polls drifts away from her own and he refocuses on the roll of the meadow, scared he could go blind if he gazed any more deeply upon her face but much like a moth to the flame he can not seem to stand to tear his view from her eyes, her lips, her mane. The way her jaw moves with her smile, the flare of her nostrils with each breath draws him in like a lullaby and he allow himself to surrender to her private psalm. He can only smile and meet her gaze with those warm turquoise eyes. "Please call me Van, Marjorie." Their names on his tongue are like peppermint and cinnamon, hot and cold and vivid and oh so bright! So much is happening behind the green-blue eyes of the palomino but he is not scared but in fact embraces it. It had been so long since he had felt something other than the touch of the wind against his skin or the sound of crows in the trees above. He can not recall the last time he had felt something other than the elements. He can not recall any emotional connection ever.

    slowdownslowdownslowdown

    A breath is drawn slowly inward and released after a few moments lapse "I am rather new to the meadow, I suppose." The small smile touches his lips easily again, slightly crooked but genuine. "How about yourself?" He is curious about her and is delighted that she should find him of all equines in the meadow. Bronze ears both forward to her, attention fully engaged by the syllables to come from the vibrant lips.

    Van

    white sand and turquoises water




    Your words are GORGEOUS! Mine are poop and I'm sorry. I'll work on getting Van worthy of Marjorie.
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