"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
Since the morning that he had awoken, bereft of the eyesight that he had once so mindlessly taken for granted, Siberian had stayed within the Chamber's borders, learning how to adapt to a world of darkness. Learning how to "see" with ears and nose, how to slide his hooves carefully across the ground at a walking pace, knowing that he never dared to gallop again, to let the wind zip through his mane and tail as he ran. It would be far too easy to accidentally place a foot into some rodent's den-hole and snap a fragile leg bone, as good as a death sentence for a horse. When he patrols, he dons the much sturdier form of the grizzly bear who still lurked within his head, depending on its massive bones and thick fur to keep himself safe. Now, though, he's ventured out at last, no particular destination in mind. It is his nose that ends up leading the way, bringing him to the place whose scent reminds him of the Chamber's own pine forest. It smells like home, but judging by the various unfamiliar equine scents that still linger, is a place where horses from throughout Beqanna come to mingle.
As upon the times of patrol, the Budyonny stallion is once again in bear form. He doubts in his worthiness as a member of the Chamber's military, feels that he is a flawed weapon in its service now. And yet, since neither Killdare or Kimber had seen fit to remove him, he continues on in his duties as best he can, for there is nothing else that he is meant for. He still ponders who had done this to him. A magician, bound to the service of those who had fought against the Chamber in the war? He believes that this is the most likely culprit, and desires to spend an unrestricted hour with whoever the culprit was. Just themself, him, and his alter-ego. He'd even give the bear full rein to do as it wished, something it hadn't been allowed to in years. The shapeshifter pauses in what seems to be an open space within the Forest, neither hearing nor smelling anyone else in close proximity. He judges this present location to be ideal for his intention, nodding slightly to himself. Drawing in as deep a breath as he could manage, Siberian issues forth the loudest roar he has ever sounded, a roar full of all of his pent up emotions, rage chief among those. As the notes of his cry fade back into the silence of the air around him, he has but one wish: that it was somehow loud enough to have touched the ears of whatever horse had blinded him, and that they are left trembling in its aftermath.
The young stallion had no idea what he was walking into when he ventured in to the forest today, his feet and spirit light and happy. His home was within the Meadow, where his very large and cheerful family roamed about freely, and the only place he'd ever been. He often felt they treated him as an invalid, periodically coming to check on him as if to be sure he hadn't fallen into some kind of fatal depression. They thought it very odd that he preferred to keep to himself, the outgoing bunch that they are. They couldn't possibly understand why he wouldn't want them chirping away at him in his mind with their telepathy. Since he could not hear them..
So when a mighty roar ripped the skies and shook the canopy of the trees above, it did not act as a warning for possible danger ahead, and quite literally fell on deaf ears. Baymax simply kept the same idle pace he'd had all morning, roaming about without a care in the world, his tail swishing merrily. It felt good to be out. Nobody would find him here and somehow that lifted his spirits further. A lopsided grin split his face, and he looked about with fresh eyes.
And his fresh eyes fell upon a fairly large creature just a ways ahead. It wasn't anything that he'd ever seen in the Meadow before, but he instinctively knew it was dangerous. He halted, hesitated.. sniffed the air carefully. Was it one of the types to chase him if he ran simply out of predatory instinct? Or perhaps he should drop himself and play dead? The thought of lying prone and allowing devastatingly large teeth come at him was not high in his list of ideal endings for a life barely yet lived.
He carefully took a step back as he pondered his options, telling himself it was probably a quiet step. He had no real way of knowing, naturally. Maybe he should get the creature's attention and see how it reacts first, then he could also react based on that. Teeth come at him, he runs. Seemed simple enough. So, he gave a cautious snort, and told himself that it was probably nice and quiet too. The spittle always sprays out that easily. His entire body tensed for flight, just in case, though.
Their heads are bent close together, beads of milk still caught in their whiskers as the pale flanks of their mother grow smaller and smaller behind them.
They talk to one another, softly at first until their voices grow in volume and strength.
“Come on!” he says with a shove of his muzzle against hers.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” she snaps back, baring her baby teeth at him.
This only leads to them fighting and chasing one another around in a tight circle. The colt wins the battle when he throws a shoulder into his sister, knocking her to the ground. “Ow!” she yells, big fat tears well up in her eyes as she glowers at him. “That hurt!” Spark expects an apology but Spear doesn’t give her one; he merely shrugs it off, nudges her back to her feet and nuzzles her neck briefly.
“So, are you going to come or what?” he asks, with a charming grin on his face.
“Fine,” she barks at him, her little face still fraught with irritation and hurt.
They only go as far as the Forest, aware that their mother trails after them like a ghost.
Scalped does not mind what they do under their father’s watch in the Tundra; outside of it, they are her responsibility and so she does not stray far from them, even if they think they have been rather surreptitious and slick to have escaped her guard. Each of them thinks they have been successful in escaping notice from either parent, laughing happily to themselves about the adventure they are on, now that Spark has forgiven Spear for being such a bully to her.
They have hardly been in the Forest for more than an hour, having been hushed by the immensity of the trees that surround them when they hear the loud roar that shakes a few leaves from the branches of the tree beneath which they’ve stopped. “Bear?” she asks him. “Probably,” he says thoughtfully, venturing towards the direction the roar came from. “Spear…” she warns, even as she follows him, shaking her head at how her brother was always intrigued by the first hint of danger.
The twins are not the only ones curious about the beast in their midst - a stallion precedes them, but he looks more than a little confused about what to do. He snorts - the stallion does, and just seems to bide his time until the bear notices him. They watch, a little confused themselves as to why the stallion just stands there, snorting quietly at the bear. Maybe they know one another? They look sideways between themselves before sliding their mismatched eyes back to the pair before them. Things are rather curious around here, and getting curiouser and curiouser by the minute!
Letting out that roar felt almost soothing in its aftermath, and Siberian wonders if he's just put a new spin on the concept of primal scream therapy. It also seems to have done the trick of drawing attention to himself, as his round furry ears catch the sound of someone approaching, silent aside from their hesitant hoofsteps. The Budyonny can't blame them, honestly, for the wariness. Horses in the Chamber were familiar with his ability, but if he were this stranger, he wouldn't be too excited to be approaching a grizzly bear either, even if it seemed disinclined to attack. He tries out a smile, being careful not to display his sharp fangs. "Hello, I'm Siberian. Don't worry; under all this fur I am secretly a horse. " He listens carefully for the expected response, but hears none forthcoming aside from quiet snorting. Puzzled, he tilts his head. Was his visitor deaf? Oh, wouldn't that be a comedy, the two of them trying to communicate!
As he stands there, trying to figure out what to do next, the bearshifter now catches two new scents, equine scents that give off an icy aroma somehow, and turns his milky eyes in their direction, smile still etched upon his muzzle. Were they, too, wary of him? He is unsure if they had been close enough at the time he offered his name to the silent horse, and so deems it necessary to repeat his words once again. "My name's Siberian, and you can come closer if you like. I won't hurt you, I'm just a shapeshifter, not a true bear. " If the first horse he had been approached by was indeed deaf, perhaps they would still be lucky enough all around that they could read lips, so that at least his words could be understood, even if they could not reciprocate verbally. As he had done so long ago during his first meeting with Misra, when she was still a filly, he lies down now, trying to appear non-threatening. It had (eventually) worked with her, it might well work here too, and it is worth a try.
08-20-2016, 04:40 PM (This post was last modified: 08-20-2016, 04:41 PM by Baymax.)
BAYMAX
The yellow-splashed stallion watched the bear hesitantly, the faint primative markings on his forelegs dancing as he shifted his weight. A startled snort slipped out as he jerked his head up when the bear-beast smiled. Such a terrifying expression on even the friendliest of bears, if there were such a thing. But his feet remained grounded, curiousity overwhelming any sense of caution. Deep milky eyes of the blind gazed calmly in his direction, giving the stallion a little confidence.
The bear's lips moved, and Baymax realized it could speak. He tried to watch the words, but.. he had never read a bear's lips and their hardened snouts were much too different than the velvety mugs he was more accustomed to. Sound and speech alike from the creature bypassed him completely, yet he studied him nonetheless. His fear had eased and his body was relaxed. The stallion grew curiouser and curiouser about the bear, and carefully stretched his nose towards him tentatively. He could just almost touch the fur..
Blind-bear sniffed the air and his unseeing gaze turned in another direction, the sudden movement startling Baymax again as he jerked away, eyes wide. As the beast's mouth began moving again, the stallion followed his gaze and spotted his new verbal prey: two intrigued young siblings from the look of it. He loved kids and a goofy grin split his mouth. He didn't fear the bear would hurt them, as it continued to be calm and even laid down peacefully. Baymax was much nearer to it anyway, so if indeed it decided to attack he would be a natural target, most especially for a bear depending on scent and sound.
He looked down at Blind-bear and wondered if he really was friendly. It was far better that he check before the younger ones tried to do so. Somehow he didn't feel afraid of him anymore. Then again he was far too trusting and naive, some said. Still.. he reached out again and slowly, carefully, pushed his nose just below the bear's left ear, blowing a slow breath on him as he noted the different scents; woodsy, bearish, a little like a horse.
Well, while the bear was choosing to be nice, he dropped down next to him and sprawled out in the dirt. It was his favorite thing to do after all and he simply couldn't pass up the chance to lie there with a bear. He chuckled to himself. His sisters would fuureeak when he told them what he did today when he had finally escaped their watchful eyes.
His spine brushed against the bear as he shifted then settled, heaving out a long deep sigh. Calm brown eyes shifted to the siblings again passively, watching in case their lips formed words.
It is not that they have lived a sheltered life (lives?) thus far; Scalped has made sure they are as much aware of the pitfalls of life as they are the endless joys that can be had too. But holy hairs on Coyote’s tail! They’ve never laid eyes upon a blind bear before! This is entirely new to them and Spear’s mouth gapes open as Spark tries not to stare too much. They are more in awe than they are in fear of him; he should be scary by all rights, and their instincts should be screaming at them to turn tail and run, but neither of them do so. They are so thoroughly fascinated by the blind bear that they are surprised they can even understand him as he starts to talk and explain himself.
The bear says they can come closer, that he isn’t a true bear at all which intrigues them greatly. If he is not a true bear, then what is he? Each of them has a black eye that rolls toward the other, his right meets her left and they share a look between them before turning their mismatched eyes (the opposite eyes are red, like their father’s signature eyes are - they bear his mark upon them well, signaling that they are children of Offspring and the Tundra) to the bear fully. The bear lays down, appears rather unthreatening to them and they are sorely tempted to go over and poke and prod him with their noses - they’re curious, after all. But they refrain from doing so just yet and turn to regard their rather silent comrade; this is a first for them too, encountering the deaf.
He grins at them and they cannot help but grin back; grins are completely infectious, except for the bear - his grins are a little more toothy than any of them probably care for, except maybe Spear who is utterly fearless (or is that reckless? Spark thinks it is the latter actually). The twins watch as the stallion bravely steps closer to the bear and seems to sniff just below his ear, and they can imagine why - is the bear truly a friend or is he secretly a foe? Then the stallion just up and laid down right beside the bear like they were brothers or something! The twins shared another look between them, anything was possible these days as their eyes never leave the bear and the stallion, an odd pair to be sure…
“We are Spear and Spark,” they say in unison, which is a rarity for them despite the fact that they are indeed twins. They are careful to talk slow and enunciate each word clearly, as they’ve begun to suspect that something is off about the stallion, like he’s deaf since he hasn’t really responded to anything the bear has said. “You are the first talking bear not-bear that we’ve met,” Spark says, as Spear slips a little closer and she trails him, her nose almost pressed against his hip. “And you are altogether too quiet,” Spear says to the painted stallion. They are close enough to sniff about the bear’s head, and the stallion’s too. Their noses are whiskery and soft as every foal’s nose is likely to be; the bear smells woodsy and foreign to them, but also not entirely like a bear… he smells a little like a horse too.
“You said you can shift shape,” Spear asks that question that is burning just as brightly in his sister’s mind as it is in his. “Does that mean you are something other than a bear?” The twins think they know what he meant by that - he is bear and he is horse, because that is the other thread of scent that is so strongly woven about him that they cannot deny he is one of those clever shifters that can change their shape, kind of like their coyote-cousin Woodrow who often visits them in coyote-form. Still, the twins are thrilled! They have met a blind bear and a deaf stallion all in one day! Coyote be damned, no one could ever believe this! Eventually, Spear goes to lay in the dirt on the bear’s other side and Spark settles in next to the buckskin tobiano stallion.
His silent visitor, still closer judging by the sounds of the three other horses' breathing, now moves close enough that his breath tickles Siberian's ear, causing a snort of surprise mixed with amusement to escape his furry brown muzzle. Siberian inhales, taking in the other horse's scent to confirm to himself that the other, having a smell resembling his own, is indeed a male. He wishes that he could see his three companions, know the colors of their fur, gaze upon their faces, and a sigh passes his lips at the unforgettable knowledge that such a thing is a gift lost to him for the rest of his life. The Budyonny shakes himself out of the melancholy mood that threatens to envelop him by listening to the excited voices of the youngsters. They speak in unison when revealing their names, causing him to wonder if they are twins. Didn't twins have a reputation for speaking as one? The grizzly rocks in place with a further surprise when the mute stallion joins him on the ground, leaning against him.
His attempt to appear nonthreatening has apparently worked, and worked too well! Now, in addition to the nameless stallion, one of the children, or perhaps both if one is lying on said nameless stallion's far side, has joined this unofficial cuddlefest. The black stallion blinks his clouded eyes, wondering just how this happened, but not opposed to the continued idea, odd though it was. He turns his head towards whichever foal it is lying next to him, unsure if this is the same one who had questioned him about his ability or not, but addressing them anyway. Impishly, he noses back at the youngster before speaking, noting the soft baby-fur and realizing that these two were quite young indeed, and therefore brave to set out and explore at their ages. "Yes, I am something else aside from a bear, would you like to see? " And he shifts now, giving his audience a few moments to brace themselves back up away from him, so that they do not topple sideways when his rather bulkier ursine form gives way to his slimmer, natural equine body. Swishing a hoof against the ground idly, he waits to hear how they react to his change.
