<![CDATA[Beqanna - Field]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/ Fri, 24 Apr 2026 16:07:51 +0000 MyBB <![CDATA[The sweetener you are; any]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=30912 Tue, 21 Jun 2022 19:55:59 +0000 Electra]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=30912
Electra

The afterlife was a distasteful place, it was by mere accident she found herself here. It lacked the true luster of life in its own purity, souls would cross the veil every now and then, a constant update on how the world was faring without her. Admittedly she was trapped, being here for so long, weakening herself as if the afterlife was preying upon her own life source, like a vampire slowly sucking her dry. The feeling was intoxicating, knowing death was so close, his seductive coils wrapped around every inch of her translucent body. She relished in the feeling, yet death never came for her, for she wasn't his to claim as his own. She was forever unattainable and perhaps that's why death found himself so infatuated. This feeling was her fuel, although weakened within the grounds of the afterlife she lay in wait, patience showed no kindness to her. The world changed around her as she waited years upon years grasping onto this feeling with a sense of perhaps this will be her way out? With death lying in wait for her, she felt a spark within her body as this feeling became engorged within her, sparks running down her every limb as she knew it was time. Her strength had gathered just enough to perhaps transport herself out this place, she knows when she leaves she will be powerless to what lies ahead, and yet with every ounce of strength in her body she carries herself across the veil and into the land of the living. 

Color, everything was so colorful, it was something she had dearly missed not necessarily the color of the world but the color of herself. Her own vibrance had returned, no long ghostly and translucent her body mirrored that of a self she once knew, and wanted to know again. Her plum and opalescent body danced in the light, her iridescence glinting. Neon eyes wandering over every inch of her immortal body, she appeared to be within the peek of health yet she felt otherwise. Despite overjoyed by her own miraculous return, she still felt weak within her bones, as if her own mind was emaciated. The need to lay down was insatiable as it edged through every part of her body, her purple legs buckling beneath her own weight as she collapses giving into her most primal instincts, self preservation.

She lays there for a moment, the ombre tresses of her mane creating small whisps within the wind as she allowed her eyes to close, her senses lighting up as tremors of electricity flickered through her body. The feeling was so unnaturally natural, she had forgotten what it is what like to be alive. Her nares flared as she took in a breathe, tasting the air, it was sweet and musky lingering with hints of sex. It must be autumn she noted, as the scents of bodily fluids lingered, she loved this time of year where men would take women like a hound takes a bitch. She missed toying with men, making herself unattainable yet entertaining their desires. She soaked up the feeling of being wanted, but never allowed it.

Her mauve lobes swivel to the chatter of equine lingering about, she doesn't know where she is but she knows she must rest for a moment,  just enough time to allow herself to get moving. She can feel this world has changed, places she once knew were perhaps no more, and she wanted to explore this changed world. She had spent too much time allowing herself to waste away in the afterlife, it was time she started living. 

She can feel the presence of another, or perhaps many within this area, opening her brilliant fuchsia orbs she gazes outwards, a sweet melodic voice erupting from her chest, "Hello?"

like the sweetener you are

]]>
Electra

The afterlife was a distasteful place, it was by mere accident she found herself here. It lacked the true luster of life in its own purity, souls would cross the veil every now and then, a constant update on how the world was faring without her. Admittedly she was trapped, being here for so long, weakening herself as if the afterlife was preying upon her own life source, like a vampire slowly sucking her dry. The feeling was intoxicating, knowing death was so close, his seductive coils wrapped around every inch of her translucent body. She relished in the feeling, yet death never came for her, for she wasn't his to claim as his own. She was forever unattainable and perhaps that's why death found himself so infatuated. This feeling was her fuel, although weakened within the grounds of the afterlife she lay in wait, patience showed no kindness to her. The world changed around her as she waited years upon years grasping onto this feeling with a sense of perhaps this will be her way out? With death lying in wait for her, she felt a spark within her body as this feeling became engorged within her, sparks running down her every limb as she knew it was time. Her strength had gathered just enough to perhaps transport herself out this place, she knows when she leaves she will be powerless to what lies ahead, and yet with every ounce of strength in her body she carries herself across the veil and into the land of the living. 

Color, everything was so colorful, it was something she had dearly missed not necessarily the color of the world but the color of herself. Her own vibrance had returned, no long ghostly and translucent her body mirrored that of a self she once knew, and wanted to know again. Her plum and opalescent body danced in the light, her iridescence glinting. Neon eyes wandering over every inch of her immortal body, she appeared to be within the peek of health yet she felt otherwise. Despite overjoyed by her own miraculous return, she still felt weak within her bones, as if her own mind was emaciated. The need to lay down was insatiable as it edged through every part of her body, her purple legs buckling beneath her own weight as she collapses giving into her most primal instincts, self preservation.

She lays there for a moment, the ombre tresses of her mane creating small whisps within the wind as she allowed her eyes to close, her senses lighting up as tremors of electricity flickered through her body. The feeling was so unnaturally natural, she had forgotten what it is what like to be alive. Her nares flared as she took in a breathe, tasting the air, it was sweet and musky lingering with hints of sex. It must be autumn she noted, as the scents of bodily fluids lingered, she loved this time of year where men would take women like a hound takes a bitch. She missed toying with men, making herself unattainable yet entertaining their desires. She soaked up the feeling of being wanted, but never allowed it.

Her mauve lobes swivel to the chatter of equine lingering about, she doesn't know where she is but she knows she must rest for a moment,  just enough time to allow herself to get moving. She can feel this world has changed, places she once knew were perhaps no more, and she wanted to explore this changed world. She had spent too much time allowing herself to waste away in the afterlife, it was time she started living. 

She can feel the presence of another, or perhaps many within this area, opening her brilliant fuchsia orbs she gazes outwards, a sweet melodic voice erupting from her chest, "Hello?"

like the sweetener you are

]]> <![CDATA[Life where death abides.]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=30730 Tue, 15 Feb 2022 05:09:31 +0000 Lanore]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=30730
Dawn stretched out across the land, with the barest hint of pink sunlight brushing the horizon. Dew covered grass swayed beneath the soft and quiet steps of the creature that lingered beneath the branches of a rather large tree not far from the lake. Her ruby eyes drifted over the scene, mesmerized by the way the world seemed so pure and green. The vivid colors of the budding day seemed to draw her in. Truth me told, it had been a long time since Lanore had felt peace like this. The peace of childhood hadn't lingered long. There was a short time in which she'd been allowed to be a babe, untouched by the reality of her lineage and the adult ideas that her young mind couldn't fathom. In those moments when her mother softly sang her to sleep each night, she had believed for a time that she had been loved.

Much like icicles hanging from a branch, those memories were shattered by the reminder that she'd been left alone in the darkness of the forest. Not because of something she had done, or even what she was; but rather the possibility of what she could be. Her ruby eyes that had set her apart, her mothers only reminder of her father, had marked her as unwanted. You would never know. She moved with a calm and peace about her, as if the world had not shuddered beneath the wrath of her father. She nosed the wet leaves among the bushes as she passed by, drawing the dew off each with a quick lap of her tongue. These days she did not let the memories of the past ensnare her.

She paused to watch a bird as it flit up from within the bush she stood before. A small puff of its chest and a protest in the form of a chirp escaped the little bird before it flew away just as quickly as it had appeared. Her breath hitched in her throat and for a moment she was rooted, ruby eyes searching for the tiny fiend. She had always been fascinated with birds. To fly away on a whim was a dream she didn't let herself entertain as often these days as she used to. She'd learned to cherish the sanctity of her solitude. The silence that consumed her life had brought with it far less strife than her short time around others had. In truth, she really had no trouble to fly away from anymore.

]]>
Dawn stretched out across the land, with the barest hint of pink sunlight brushing the horizon. Dew covered grass swayed beneath the soft and quiet steps of the creature that lingered beneath the branches of a rather large tree not far from the lake. Her ruby eyes drifted over the scene, mesmerized by the way the world seemed so pure and green. The vivid colors of the budding day seemed to draw her in. Truth me told, it had been a long time since Lanore had felt peace like this. The peace of childhood hadn't lingered long. There was a short time in which she'd been allowed to be a babe, untouched by the reality of her lineage and the adult ideas that her young mind couldn't fathom. In those moments when her mother softly sang her to sleep each night, she had believed for a time that she had been loved.

Much like icicles hanging from a branch, those memories were shattered by the reminder that she'd been left alone in the darkness of the forest. Not because of something she had done, or even what she was; but rather the possibility of what she could be. Her ruby eyes that had set her apart, her mothers only reminder of her father, had marked her as unwanted. You would never know. She moved with a calm and peace about her, as if the world had not shuddered beneath the wrath of her father. She nosed the wet leaves among the bushes as she passed by, drawing the dew off each with a quick lap of her tongue. These days she did not let the memories of the past ensnare her.

She paused to watch a bird as it flit up from within the bush she stood before. A small puff of its chest and a protest in the form of a chirp escaped the little bird before it flew away just as quickly as it had appeared. Her breath hitched in her throat and for a moment she was rooted, ruby eyes searching for the tiny fiend. She had always been fascinated with birds. To fly away on a whim was a dream she didn't let herself entertain as often these days as she used to. She'd learned to cherish the sanctity of her solitude. The silence that consumed her life had brought with it far less strife than her short time around others had. In truth, she really had no trouble to fly away from anymore.

]]> <![CDATA["The storm is an artist; the rainbow, its masterpiece"]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=30716 Wed, 09 Feb 2022 20:36:27 +0000 Reyla]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=30716
The storm that came upon the filly and those traveling with her shook her to her core; the sound of thunder reverberated through the trees she stood upon to carry her over the water, and the lightning that flashed was so bright one could think it was daytime at first glance. The winds chilled her straight to the bone, blowing her mane into her eyes, and the rain and sleet soaked her coat. It had been a miserable time, but Reyla would have gladly put up with wet hair and shaking bones if it meant the situation turned out better.

The waves stretched as tall as the trees she now stood upon, as if they were reaching for the stars that hid behind the clouds. At first, they avoided the filly and her companions, but good fortune didn't last forever, for one turned straight toward them and slammed down, the crash creating a noise that rivaled the thunder above.

Before she knew what was happening, Reel's head was swallowed by the ocean water, and the waves tossed and turned her like a rock in a tornado. Every time she believed her lungs would give out, the ocean would show her mercy and lift her to have a gulp of fresh air, only to drag her back under soon after. Reyla's powerful legs kicked and thrashed to get her above the water's surface, but it did little good; the ocean would not release its grip unless under its own terms.

The sound of the thunder above was muffled while she was in the water, but the flashes of lightning allowed her to see where she needed to go. As long as she knew which way was up, she had a fighting chance... assuming the ocean wouldn't try to drown her. She was so very tired after fighting against the current, she wished nothing more than to return to her dam's side and rest as she did when she was a foal. To feel her dam's warmth on the cold winter nights... her calming voice, telling Reyla that her color wasn't what made her special...

But no, her dam was gone... Reyla had to fight on her own now. But the ocean was strong, merciless, and she was growing tired...

Everything went dark as her head went beneath the waves one final time...

And then, daylight. A chilling air that blew over her coat, causing the ocean water to crust and make her skin itchy. Soft noises from the animals that lived nearby. The gentle echo of waves lapping against the shore.

The filly slowly came back to the world, her eyes fluttering open while her body was regaining its senses. For a time, she just laid there, regaining her strength, but knew she would need to find food. Her stomach growled with hunger, and her throat burned from the saltwater she'd swallowed. With great effort, she lifted her head and looked around, seeing she was lying on a beach. The side of her body facing the ground was coated with sand, and there was a small dried red puddle underneath her left leg.

Reyla blew air out of her nose to get rid of the sand and smell of saltwater, before gathering her legs under her body and hoisting herself up. She stumbled a moment, still out of sorts from being tossed in the ocean, and briefly fell back to her knees. She stayed there a moment, to catch her breath. Taking her time, she supported her weight on her right leg, testing her injured one. She could step on it, good. It was definitely sore, however. She would take her time, even with hunger gnawing at her belly like a hungry predator.

She looked at the ground, to see if she could spot a trail frequently used; her dam had once told her this was how to find food, by following a path used by creatures that ate grass and wild oats like herself. However, the sand made spotting anything a bit difficult. Perhaps she'd have better luck farther from shore.

Limping up the shore, the filly was relieved to see the sand started turning into grass and dirt some yards away. At first, still no signs of frequent trails, which disheartened her. She continued her search for a while, until her luck turned, and she spotted a trail that led further inland. Or, what she assumed was further inland. She sincerely hoped it didn't lead on a path back to the ocean. She needed drinkable water, and the further upstream she could go, the better the water.

With her slow pace, the sun was well on its journey into the sky when Reyla finally had better signs of food. The grass beneath her hooves seemed better suited to fill her belly, instead of what she saw closer to the shores. However, her desire for water was stronger, so she continued following the trail, noting that the hoof prints had increased in number. Whatever area she was headed to, other horses frequented it. She wasn't sure this was a good sign yet though, not if she met any hostility while she was there.

At a few points on her journey, her path was crossed by a few creatures with brown fur, but that had black and white stripes on their tails. Their body shapes reminded Reyla of the foxes she had seen during one of her trips away from her dam, but the coloring was wrong. The ones she'd see had been red. Well, perhaps just as horses came in different colors, foxes did too. She also saw various birds flying over her head, sporting colorful feathers, with chirps that echoed over the fields stretching before her, almost like a soothing melody.

It helped to ease the filly's nerves, but her ears were pricked, and eyes watchful. She sensed something strange about this land...

Or it could be the sound of the waterfall up ahe- wait a minute. Waterfall? Reyla's heart soared as she limped closer to the noise that grew like thunder, and as she crested a small hill that just blocked her eyesight enough, the sight before her was magnificent.

A large waterfall cascaded down a small cliff and into a pond at its base, a small covering of mist being thrown up by the water's impact. Reyla could see other grass paths like the one she'd been following going toward the pond, but there were no other horses there at the moment. She made her way down, would have trotted if her leg had the strength. Soon as she reached the bank, she lowered her head and drank from the pond, the burning in her throat now relieved thanks to the cool chill. She stayed like that for some time, until it felt like her belly was full off the water alone. Only when her throat felt normal again did she lift her head, staring down at her reflection.

She wasn't dirty with mud, but the sand and ocean water crusting under her coat was now giving her a big of a scraggly appearance. On top of that, it itched horribly. Briefly, she considered rinsing it away in the pond water. The lake was large enough, easily four times the size of the area she'd been kept in by those trees in her homeland. Did she dare risk such an act, when she was in unfamiliar territory?

But she honestly couldn't stand it any longer. Finding a shallow area, the filly wandered into the pond and lowered her body down into the water, letting out a relieved sigh as the coolness of the water washed away the aches in her body. Her injured leg stung at first, but it was a small price to pay. When her body felt good and rinsed, she lowered her head and neck to do the same. She felt she'd been thoroughly rinsed off by now, and got out of the pond, giving her body a good shake to start drying herself. The warm sun above would help with that.

Now, to do something about her hunger. The wild oats at her hooves looked appetizing enough. She lowered her head and took a bite, finding they were indeed edible. She settled into a peaceful grazing, for a moment anyway, her senses alerting her to another nearby. Looking around, she spotted something by the bushes and stunted trees that lined a part of the bank not far away.

A cat made its way out of the bush. A cat? No, that couldn't be. Even if they could have different colors too, she'd never seen one that looked like that. Yellow fur not far in color from a former herd member's, and dark spots the color of tree bark all over. The cats she'd all seen before, even ones with spots, had been much smaller. This cat creature seemed very out of place here. What was this place anyway? Was there a name for this land? No matter, it seemed the cat wasn't too concerned with her. It was watching the water; hunting, like she'd seen the cats at home do for mice that lived nearby.

She settled back into her grazing, her weight balanced on her three good legs, while the injured left one touched the ground only by the toe of her hoof. Slowly, she felt her hunger being sated, and was careful not to rush. She already had an injury; she didn't want to risk a stomach ache slowing her down too.

---*---*---*---*---*---

OOC: Reyla would love to have some company and make a new friend.]]>
The storm that came upon the filly and those traveling with her shook her to her core; the sound of thunder reverberated through the trees she stood upon to carry her over the water, and the lightning that flashed was so bright one could think it was daytime at first glance. The winds chilled her straight to the bone, blowing her mane into her eyes, and the rain and sleet soaked her coat. It had been a miserable time, but Reyla would have gladly put up with wet hair and shaking bones if it meant the situation turned out better.

The waves stretched as tall as the trees she now stood upon, as if they were reaching for the stars that hid behind the clouds. At first, they avoided the filly and her companions, but good fortune didn't last forever, for one turned straight toward them and slammed down, the crash creating a noise that rivaled the thunder above.

Before she knew what was happening, Reel's head was swallowed by the ocean water, and the waves tossed and turned her like a rock in a tornado. Every time she believed her lungs would give out, the ocean would show her mercy and lift her to have a gulp of fresh air, only to drag her back under soon after. Reyla's powerful legs kicked and thrashed to get her above the water's surface, but it did little good; the ocean would not release its grip unless under its own terms.

The sound of the thunder above was muffled while she was in the water, but the flashes of lightning allowed her to see where she needed to go. As long as she knew which way was up, she had a fighting chance... assuming the ocean wouldn't try to drown her. She was so very tired after fighting against the current, she wished nothing more than to return to her dam's side and rest as she did when she was a foal. To feel her dam's warmth on the cold winter nights... her calming voice, telling Reyla that her color wasn't what made her special...

But no, her dam was gone... Reyla had to fight on her own now. But the ocean was strong, merciless, and she was growing tired...

Everything went dark as her head went beneath the waves one final time...

And then, daylight. A chilling air that blew over her coat, causing the ocean water to crust and make her skin itchy. Soft noises from the animals that lived nearby. The gentle echo of waves lapping against the shore.

The filly slowly came back to the world, her eyes fluttering open while her body was regaining its senses. For a time, she just laid there, regaining her strength, but knew she would need to find food. Her stomach growled with hunger, and her throat burned from the saltwater she'd swallowed. With great effort, she lifted her head and looked around, seeing she was lying on a beach. The side of her body facing the ground was coated with sand, and there was a small dried red puddle underneath her left leg.

Reyla blew air out of her nose to get rid of the sand and smell of saltwater, before gathering her legs under her body and hoisting herself up. She stumbled a moment, still out of sorts from being tossed in the ocean, and briefly fell back to her knees. She stayed there a moment, to catch her breath. Taking her time, she supported her weight on her right leg, testing her injured one. She could step on it, good. It was definitely sore, however. She would take her time, even with hunger gnawing at her belly like a hungry predator.

She looked at the ground, to see if she could spot a trail frequently used; her dam had once told her this was how to find food, by following a path used by creatures that ate grass and wild oats like herself. However, the sand made spotting anything a bit difficult. Perhaps she'd have better luck farther from shore.

Limping up the shore, the filly was relieved to see the sand started turning into grass and dirt some yards away. At first, still no signs of frequent trails, which disheartened her. She continued her search for a while, until her luck turned, and she spotted a trail that led further inland. Or, what she assumed was further inland. She sincerely hoped it didn't lead on a path back to the ocean. She needed drinkable water, and the further upstream she could go, the better the water.

With her slow pace, the sun was well on its journey into the sky when Reyla finally had better signs of food. The grass beneath her hooves seemed better suited to fill her belly, instead of what she saw closer to the shores. However, her desire for water was stronger, so she continued following the trail, noting that the hoof prints had increased in number. Whatever area she was headed to, other horses frequented it. She wasn't sure this was a good sign yet though, not if she met any hostility while she was there.

At a few points on her journey, her path was crossed by a few creatures with brown fur, but that had black and white stripes on their tails. Their body shapes reminded Reyla of the foxes she had seen during one of her trips away from her dam, but the coloring was wrong. The ones she'd see had been red. Well, perhaps just as horses came in different colors, foxes did too. She also saw various birds flying over her head, sporting colorful feathers, with chirps that echoed over the fields stretching before her, almost like a soothing melody.

It helped to ease the filly's nerves, but her ears were pricked, and eyes watchful. She sensed something strange about this land...

Or it could be the sound of the waterfall up ahe- wait a minute. Waterfall? Reyla's heart soared as she limped closer to the noise that grew like thunder, and as she crested a small hill that just blocked her eyesight enough, the sight before her was magnificent.

A large waterfall cascaded down a small cliff and into a pond at its base, a small covering of mist being thrown up by the water's impact. Reyla could see other grass paths like the one she'd been following going toward the pond, but there were no other horses there at the moment. She made her way down, would have trotted if her leg had the strength. Soon as she reached the bank, she lowered her head and drank from the pond, the burning in her throat now relieved thanks to the cool chill. She stayed like that for some time, until it felt like her belly was full off the water alone. Only when her throat felt normal again did she lift her head, staring down at her reflection.

She wasn't dirty with mud, but the sand and ocean water crusting under her coat was now giving her a big of a scraggly appearance. On top of that, it itched horribly. Briefly, she considered rinsing it away in the pond water. The lake was large enough, easily four times the size of the area she'd been kept in by those trees in her homeland. Did she dare risk such an act, when she was in unfamiliar territory?

But she honestly couldn't stand it any longer. Finding a shallow area, the filly wandered into the pond and lowered her body down into the water, letting out a relieved sigh as the coolness of the water washed away the aches in her body. Her injured leg stung at first, but it was a small price to pay. When her body felt good and rinsed, she lowered her head and neck to do the same. She felt she'd been thoroughly rinsed off by now, and got out of the pond, giving her body a good shake to start drying herself. The warm sun above would help with that.

Now, to do something about her hunger. The wild oats at her hooves looked appetizing enough. She lowered her head and took a bite, finding they were indeed edible. She settled into a peaceful grazing, for a moment anyway, her senses alerting her to another nearby. Looking around, she spotted something by the bushes and stunted trees that lined a part of the bank not far away.

A cat made its way out of the bush. A cat? No, that couldn't be. Even if they could have different colors too, she'd never seen one that looked like that. Yellow fur not far in color from a former herd member's, and dark spots the color of tree bark all over. The cats she'd all seen before, even ones with spots, had been much smaller. This cat creature seemed very out of place here. What was this place anyway? Was there a name for this land? No matter, it seemed the cat wasn't too concerned with her. It was watching the water; hunting, like she'd seen the cats at home do for mice that lived nearby.

She settled back into her grazing, her weight balanced on her three good legs, while the injured left one touched the ground only by the toe of her hoof. Slowly, she felt her hunger being sated, and was careful not to rush. She already had an injury; she didn't want to risk a stomach ache slowing her down too.

---*---*---*---*---*---

OOC: Reyla would love to have some company and make a new friend.]]> <![CDATA[Through a sea of black and blue]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=30687 Tue, 01 Feb 2022 00:54:05 +0000 Yanhua]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=30687
Tonight, the wind was crisp. Yanhua lifted his nose to it and tasted what lingered there, his lips softly curling in the dark.

Tonight, his glow was weak. He stood alone in a remote corner of the meadow, quiet and contemplative as the breeze tugged his short tail. The golden strands tickled his hocks, twisting in between his legs and brushing up against his lean, hardened belly. He sighed.

Tonight, one of his ears twisted to hear the familiar thud of approaching hooves. They sounded like he wouldn’t be alone for long, so the wistful stallion put on a pleasant sort of smile and turned his head, revealing a horribly scarred face and two cloudy, blind eyes.

If the ‘someone’ approaching was familiar, he didn’t notice at first. Yanhua hadn’t been this way for very long, he assumed. He was still getting used to it, not wandering far from the place where he’d come to his senses, and he had no way to gauge time. The feeling of Amarine by his side and the sound of his children's laughter were memories, now. There was only the warmth of the sun, the coolness of the rain, and the rage of a storm as the seasons changed.

He tried not to visualize what the other horse saw as he turned: tooth marks fouling his entire face, suggesting a terrible struggle. The assailant had torn one nostril clean in half, and ruined both his eyes. Instead he hoped that his demeanor would radiate kindness, putting the other at ease. He even shuffled his bright wings, so out-of-place with the rest of him, as if to appear nonchalant.

“Hmm?” He spoke first, encouraging a response by lifting both ears toward the approaching horse. “Is someone there?”


please someone give him a reason to live lol]]>
Tonight, the wind was crisp. Yanhua lifted his nose to it and tasted what lingered there, his lips softly curling in the dark.

Tonight, his glow was weak. He stood alone in a remote corner of the meadow, quiet and contemplative as the breeze tugged his short tail. The golden strands tickled his hocks, twisting in between his legs and brushing up against his lean, hardened belly. He sighed.

Tonight, one of his ears twisted to hear the familiar thud of approaching hooves. They sounded like he wouldn’t be alone for long, so the wistful stallion put on a pleasant sort of smile and turned his head, revealing a horribly scarred face and two cloudy, blind eyes.

If the ‘someone’ approaching was familiar, he didn’t notice at first. Yanhua hadn’t been this way for very long, he assumed. He was still getting used to it, not wandering far from the place where he’d come to his senses, and he had no way to gauge time. The feeling of Amarine by his side and the sound of his children's laughter were memories, now. There was only the warmth of the sun, the coolness of the rain, and the rage of a storm as the seasons changed.

He tried not to visualize what the other horse saw as he turned: tooth marks fouling his entire face, suggesting a terrible struggle. The assailant had torn one nostril clean in half, and ruined both his eyes. Instead he hoped that his demeanor would radiate kindness, putting the other at ease. He even shuffled his bright wings, so out-of-place with the rest of him, as if to appear nonchalant.

“Hmm?” He spoke first, encouraging a response by lifting both ears toward the approaching horse. “Is someone there?”


please someone give him a reason to live lol]]> <![CDATA[Si vis pacem, para bellum; any]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=30640 Tue, 18 Jan 2022 00:19:44 +0000 Cryil]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=30640

Cryil

tatter x rishiri

This was a good of a place as any. The field is where the wayward went to find homes and Cryil was no different. She did not have the energy to play cat and mouse and carry on coy conversations while she twitched and skittered playfully about. Cryil was certainly not that dainty kind of mare.

Standing at a clear 16.2 hands, she is leggy and well formed. Her blood saw to that. She stands with the likes of warriors instead of trapped damsels. The blood bay paint embodies and enjoys her statuesque form and uses it to part the clusters of tittering mares, enthralled in gossip and slitted eyes. Cryil pays it to mind as she finds her own little plot of ground to stand with the warmth of spring sunlight warms her spine.

Idly, the two toned tail flicks over her hip to stir the fresh crop of spring flies. The grass was sweeter this year but the insects wasted no time to nibble at her tender flank. She sighs and kicks a leg out in sheer annoyance before con tuning her grazing. Hopefully someone would be along soon so she could leave this damn field.


it's short but come scoop her up Smile shes ready to go.]]>

Cryil

tatter x rishiri

This was a good of a place as any. The field is where the wayward went to find homes and Cryil was no different. She did not have the energy to play cat and mouse and carry on coy conversations while she twitched and skittered playfully about. Cryil was certainly not that dainty kind of mare.

Standing at a clear 16.2 hands, she is leggy and well formed. Her blood saw to that. She stands with the likes of warriors instead of trapped damsels. The blood bay paint embodies and enjoys her statuesque form and uses it to part the clusters of tittering mares, enthralled in gossip and slitted eyes. Cryil pays it to mind as she finds her own little plot of ground to stand with the warmth of spring sunlight warms her spine.

Idly, the two toned tail flicks over her hip to stir the fresh crop of spring flies. The grass was sweeter this year but the insects wasted no time to nibble at her tender flank. She sighs and kicks a leg out in sheer annoyance before con tuning her grazing. Hopefully someone would be along soon so she could leave this damn field.


it's short but come scoop her up Smile shes ready to go.]]> <![CDATA[Piece of mind (Open/Herds)]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=30551 Sat, 04 Dec 2021 19:31:15 +0000 Cygnus]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=30551

CYGNUS

The blue roan stallion made his way through the field. He was here to find himself a herd and maybe find some of his family. He had recently met one of his older half sisters whose name had been Carwyn. He had also learned that his mother had been killed and he decided to meet up with each of his siblings. Cygnus gave a small sigh as he decided to wait where he was. He let his head drift towards the ground and began to graze on the grass.  

TIME-TRAVELING, WATER-RESISTANT VIPER BOY

]]>

CYGNUS

The blue roan stallion made his way through the field. He was here to find himself a herd and maybe find some of his family. He had recently met one of his older half sisters whose name had been Carwyn. He had also learned that his mother had been killed and he decided to meet up with each of his siblings. Cygnus gave a small sigh as he decided to wait where he was. He let his head drift towards the ground and began to graze on the grass.  

TIME-TRAVELING, WATER-RESISTANT VIPER BOY

]]> <![CDATA[Hope for a new day]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=30530 Tue, 30 Nov 2021 16:10:26 +0000 Estrid]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=30530 <![CDATA[is a kiss an act of war; any]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=30514 Wed, 17 Nov 2021 19:06:13 +0000 Jac and Danyel]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=30514
He tries the subtle route first, a muffled noise under his breath; his companion ignores it, refusing to arrest his forward motion into the unfamiliar landscape. The darker boy is forced to resort to something else. "Danyel," he hisses it across the space between them, and the ire that simmers under the words is enough to make his brother falter, pausing to flash a hurt look back over his shoulder. The slightly taller boy trots a few steps to catch up, watching warily behind them. 

"Jac..." There's a long standing air of annoyance under the brighter boy's words, but his eyes are entreating. "We won't find anywhere if we don't mingle."

"You agreed to be cautious," comes the familiar retort, "We don't know anything about these people."

If Jac were being more accurate, he should probably say 'we don't know anything', but his twin doesn't call him on it. They are the youngest children of their patriarch by more than a few years; they'd been raised by their father and step-father in a mostly hidden place, but it has been more than a year since they saw hide or hair of either parental unit, and that's being generous. Home was safe, it was easy, it had everything they needed to survive; but it was not exciting. Jac, ever the more careful, had run out of ways to keep his curious younger half distracted or entertained, and so here they were. And while their fathers had taught them plenty of things, and told them plenty of stories, they know nothing of this world as it is now.

They also have had little chance to socialize, beyond their little family unit and some siblings who wandered through occasionally. Danyel is euphoric. Jac is reticent. 

"Everything is just so there," the lighter of the two exclaims, dropping his muzzle to rake it through the new spring grass before dropping unceremoniously to his knees and then to his side, rolling enthusiastically. "This isn't what I thought grass would feel like. Aren't you going to try it?" Jac gives him a Look that can't be misinterpreted, and the answer is very obviously No. 

The thing about Home was it wasn't exactly a corporeal Place; it was a magical place of their sire's creation, and they had been the only Real things in it, with the exception of those few and far between visits from other family members. So their experiences were crafted from what Brennen remembered of the world, and thus some things were more clearly experienced by the twins than others. The things that meant more to Brennen were more Real to his sons. Another truth Jac doesn't want to acknowledge is that he hadn't had to work very hard to keep his brother contained for a long time - it was only very recently that the way to leave had become known to them, and here they are already, in the unknown.

 
If I was dying on my knees
You would be the one to rescue me
And if you were drowned at sea
I'd give you my lungs so you could breathe
* Jac & Danyel *
]]>
He tries the subtle route first, a muffled noise under his breath; his companion ignores it, refusing to arrest his forward motion into the unfamiliar landscape. The darker boy is forced to resort to something else. "Danyel," he hisses it across the space between them, and the ire that simmers under the words is enough to make his brother falter, pausing to flash a hurt look back over his shoulder. The slightly taller boy trots a few steps to catch up, watching warily behind them. 

"Jac..." There's a long standing air of annoyance under the brighter boy's words, but his eyes are entreating. "We won't find anywhere if we don't mingle."

"You agreed to be cautious," comes the familiar retort, "We don't know anything about these people."

If Jac were being more accurate, he should probably say 'we don't know anything', but his twin doesn't call him on it. They are the youngest children of their patriarch by more than a few years; they'd been raised by their father and step-father in a mostly hidden place, but it has been more than a year since they saw hide or hair of either parental unit, and that's being generous. Home was safe, it was easy, it had everything they needed to survive; but it was not exciting. Jac, ever the more careful, had run out of ways to keep his curious younger half distracted or entertained, and so here they were. And while their fathers had taught them plenty of things, and told them plenty of stories, they know nothing of this world as it is now.

They also have had little chance to socialize, beyond their little family unit and some siblings who wandered through occasionally. Danyel is euphoric. Jac is reticent. 

"Everything is just so there," the lighter of the two exclaims, dropping his muzzle to rake it through the new spring grass before dropping unceremoniously to his knees and then to his side, rolling enthusiastically. "This isn't what I thought grass would feel like. Aren't you going to try it?" Jac gives him a Look that can't be misinterpreted, and the answer is very obviously No. 

The thing about Home was it wasn't exactly a corporeal Place; it was a magical place of their sire's creation, and they had been the only Real things in it, with the exception of those few and far between visits from other family members. So their experiences were crafted from what Brennen remembered of the world, and thus some things were more clearly experienced by the twins than others. The things that meant more to Brennen were more Real to his sons. Another truth Jac doesn't want to acknowledge is that he hadn't had to work very hard to keep his brother contained for a long time - it was only very recently that the way to leave had become known to them, and here they are already, in the unknown.

 
If I was dying on my knees
You would be the one to rescue me
And if you were drowned at sea
I'd give you my lungs so you could breathe
* Jac & Danyel *
]]> <![CDATA[i've been sinning lately.]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=30512 Tue, 16 Nov 2021 02:37:46 +0000 crowns]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=30512
i'll burn your name into my throat, i'll be the fire that'll catch you.
With a tuck of his wings, he is spiraling to the earth faster than he probably should. He extends his sapphire forelegs and steels himself for a harsh landing. His arrival sends snow flying while his boisterous laughter fills the air. Despite being fully grown for some time now, he’s still something of a child in his antics, it seems. Part of him had wondered if having children of his own would alter this piece of him, but it seems to have only solidified it.

His glowing eyes and orbiting fox fire cut through the dark of the night, illuminating his path as he makes his way through the tall grasses. Part of him isn’t entirely sure he’s ready to leave Nerine but there is a familiar ache of boredom seeping into his bones. He wants something new, something thrilling like the day Rosebay had nearly killed him. He wants something to take his breath away like the moment he first gazed into their twins’ eyes. A lofty goal, to be sure, but he thinks it could be achieved with some effort.

Crowns comes to a stop near the center of the field. Wafts of steam are snatched from his wings by the winter wind, but he is entirely unbothered by the season’s chill. His attention is focused instead on those gathered nearby. They chat quietly to match the hush of the witching hour and stifle their laughter at some shared joke. He blinks, turns his glimmering eyes elsewhere as he enjoys the ambiance for a while.
this is v bad im so sorry. i'm getting warmed up!!]]>
i'll burn your name into my throat, i'll be the fire that'll catch you.
With a tuck of his wings, he is spiraling to the earth faster than he probably should. He extends his sapphire forelegs and steels himself for a harsh landing. His arrival sends snow flying while his boisterous laughter fills the air. Despite being fully grown for some time now, he’s still something of a child in his antics, it seems. Part of him had wondered if having children of his own would alter this piece of him, but it seems to have only solidified it.

His glowing eyes and orbiting fox fire cut through the dark of the night, illuminating his path as he makes his way through the tall grasses. Part of him isn’t entirely sure he’s ready to leave Nerine but there is a familiar ache of boredom seeping into his bones. He wants something new, something thrilling like the day Rosebay had nearly killed him. He wants something to take his breath away like the moment he first gazed into their twins’ eyes. A lofty goal, to be sure, but he thinks it could be achieved with some effort.

Crowns comes to a stop near the center of the field. Wafts of steam are snatched from his wings by the winter wind, but he is entirely unbothered by the season’s chill. His attention is focused instead on those gathered nearby. They chat quietly to match the hush of the witching hour and stifle their laughter at some shared joke. He blinks, turns his glimmering eyes elsewhere as he enjoys the ambiance for a while.
this is v bad im so sorry. i'm getting warmed up!!]]> <![CDATA[our gospel is living flesh sprawled in dust]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=30388 Tue, 12 Oct 2021 20:12:14 +0000 Xi]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=30388


xi
our gospel is living flesh sprawled in dust

Despite the years she has spent at the periphery of the Field, Xi has yet to grow weary of the quiet solitude it affords her. Nearly two trips around the sun and there are only a handful of substantive conversations she can remember ─ even those were short-lived, snipped at the bud just as quickly as she was able.

She holds out hope that today will be similar to nearly every other day she'd spent meandering the expansive Field at her leisure. Quiet, uneventful. But the summer sun has drawn even those who typically remain hidden away at home out to play, leaving the ivory and peach woman to concentrate a bit more that usual on the art of evasion.

Eventually, the long verdant grasses prove ineffective in shielding her from attention, prompting Xi to take to the clear skies for a bit of casual flying. She coasts from thermal to thermal, flapping her lucid wings as minimally as possible, and watches the grounded goings-on from high above.





“”

n | a
]]>


xi
our gospel is living flesh sprawled in dust

Despite the years she has spent at the periphery of the Field, Xi has yet to grow weary of the quiet solitude it affords her. Nearly two trips around the sun and there are only a handful of substantive conversations she can remember ─ even those were short-lived, snipped at the bud just as quickly as she was able.

She holds out hope that today will be similar to nearly every other day she'd spent meandering the expansive Field at her leisure. Quiet, uneventful. But the summer sun has drawn even those who typically remain hidden away at home out to play, leaving the ivory and peach woman to concentrate a bit more that usual on the art of evasion.

Eventually, the long verdant grasses prove ineffective in shielding her from attention, prompting Xi to take to the clear skies for a bit of casual flying. She coasts from thermal to thermal, flapping her lucid wings as minimally as possible, and watches the grounded goings-on from high above.





“”

n | a
]]> <![CDATA[For some it flows, for some it drips]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=30301 Tue, 21 Sep 2021 16:03:15 +0000 Ahti]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=30301 fluid in a sense.

The aqua-colored male strolls through the field, looking at spring with an almost happy smile. It is a well-practised friendly smile, and his eyes are kind, even though the rest of his persona seems a little closed-off. His silvery horn catches a lot of light and he certainly stands out with his really odd colors, not in the least the back stripe and single strand of hair in his tail, that are so contrasting in their lime-yellow color.

Emerald orbs scan the horizon, water puddles fill behind his step like little rain ponds in a clear field. The watery male is on his way to the waterfall nearby, as is obvious, as is expected. He finds joy in such clarity, like the clear spring day he has chosen to start his journey, even though he would have equally accepted and loved a rainy day.

Unphased is the only right word to describe the large, oily-haired male, and that is how his journey always starts.]]> fluid in a sense.

The aqua-colored male strolls through the field, looking at spring with an almost happy smile. It is a well-practised friendly smile, and his eyes are kind, even though the rest of his persona seems a little closed-off. His silvery horn catches a lot of light and he certainly stands out with his really odd colors, not in the least the back stripe and single strand of hair in his tail, that are so contrasting in their lime-yellow color.

Emerald orbs scan the horizon, water puddles fill behind his step like little rain ponds in a clear field. The watery male is on his way to the waterfall nearby, as is obvious, as is expected. He finds joy in such clarity, like the clear spring day he has chosen to start his journey, even though he would have equally accepted and loved a rainy day.

Unphased is the only right word to describe the large, oily-haired male, and that is how his journey always starts.]]> <![CDATA[i gave it all, any]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=30254 Fri, 10 Sep 2021 20:38:59 +0000 gaspard]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=30254
i’m under lock and key, but you can probably tell
A powder keg in a prison cell
 
He is weary, bone-tired, when he reaches the shores of Beqanna.
When he drags himself from the sea and collapses on some remote stretch of shoreline.
 
(What has he fled? What could set a horse to swimming like this?)
 
He staggers up onto dry land, so grateful for earth that he lets his relief buckle his knees, and collapses there in the sand. And he sleeps. For how long, he doesn’t know. But when he wakes again, night has fallen and his stomach turns with the ache of hunger. 
 
Alone still, he hauls himself to his feet and resumes his journey. He pauses occasionally to gorge on patches of sawgrass that cut his tongue and his throat and sit uncomfortably in his belly. But his hunger is blinding, deafening, the only thing he can see or hear or feel.
 
It is perhaps by chance (or is it by design?) that he stumbles into the field and his eyes burn with new relief at the sight of sweetgrass, even here in the middle of winter. He eats with reckless abandon, until he’s afraid he might choke, until he can think beyond the vicious pangs of hunger. 
 
Only when he is full does he lift his head and scan the horizon, uncertain where to go from here. (Still, the limbs tremble with exhaustion, despite all those hours he slept there on that beach.) But he sets his jaw and exhales as dawn swims up over the horizon and bathes the landscape in a heavenly glow. 
 
He will wait, he thinks, and if no one comes he will find a home here himself. 
]]>
i’m under lock and key, but you can probably tell
A powder keg in a prison cell
 
He is weary, bone-tired, when he reaches the shores of Beqanna.
When he drags himself from the sea and collapses on some remote stretch of shoreline.
 
(What has he fled? What could set a horse to swimming like this?)
 
He staggers up onto dry land, so grateful for earth that he lets his relief buckle his knees, and collapses there in the sand. And he sleeps. For how long, he doesn’t know. But when he wakes again, night has fallen and his stomach turns with the ache of hunger. 
 
Alone still, he hauls himself to his feet and resumes his journey. He pauses occasionally to gorge on patches of sawgrass that cut his tongue and his throat and sit uncomfortably in his belly. But his hunger is blinding, deafening, the only thing he can see or hear or feel.
 
It is perhaps by chance (or is it by design?) that he stumbles into the field and his eyes burn with new relief at the sight of sweetgrass, even here in the middle of winter. He eats with reckless abandon, until he’s afraid he might choke, until he can think beyond the vicious pangs of hunger. 
 
Only when he is full does he lift his head and scan the horizon, uncertain where to go from here. (Still, the limbs tremble with exhaustion, despite all those hours he slept there on that beach.) But he sets his jaw and exhales as dawn swims up over the horizon and bathes the landscape in a heavenly glow. 
 
He will wait, he thinks, and if no one comes he will find a home here himself. 
]]> <![CDATA[The Dark Lines of My Happy Heart]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=30169 Sun, 05 Sep 2021 17:50:11 +0000 Rinala]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=30169 So beautiful and awe inducing. The roaring of the water as it crashed into the lake below. Rays from the sun were making the mist sparkle and gleam. But at the same time it was a terror of nature, something so powerful that could only be stopped by nature itself. Rinala stood silently, barely flicking an ear as she watched the waterfall, mesmerized. She stood close enough that her dark coat was drenched several shades darker in the icy water and her long mane and tail were dampened by the spray. She seemed hypnotized, frozen in a place of beauty and chaos. The thoughts rushing through her head were muddled together and she was left in a haze, unsure of where she was or what to do. Several moments passed until she grew conscious of her surroundings and slowly lowered her head. She let her muzzled graze the top of the cold water. She wasn't thirsty, but the water brought her back to her senses. She let out a quiet breath and turned quickly, pushing into a trot and gliding away from the fall.

  The cool air was hitting her now and her damp body began to shiver as she slowed to a walk. The winter sun seemed unable to break through the cold and dry her coat. She shook her body violently, hoping to fling off the water. She shook her and laughed at her own foolishness. What a stupid thing to do. She chided herself. Not bothering to think any more, she leaped into a slow gallop, tossing her head to shake the water from her mane. She gave a joyful whinny and a few small bucks. A good feeling settled over her. The feeling of excitement, of something new, of something unknown. I love the unknown. She whispers. ]]> So beautiful and awe inducing. The roaring of the water as it crashed into the lake below. Rays from the sun were making the mist sparkle and gleam. But at the same time it was a terror of nature, something so powerful that could only be stopped by nature itself. Rinala stood silently, barely flicking an ear as she watched the waterfall, mesmerized. She stood close enough that her dark coat was drenched several shades darker in the icy water and her long mane and tail were dampened by the spray. She seemed hypnotized, frozen in a place of beauty and chaos. The thoughts rushing through her head were muddled together and she was left in a haze, unsure of where she was or what to do. Several moments passed until she grew conscious of her surroundings and slowly lowered her head. She let her muzzled graze the top of the cold water. She wasn't thirsty, but the water brought her back to her senses. She let out a quiet breath and turned quickly, pushing into a trot and gliding away from the fall.

  The cool air was hitting her now and her damp body began to shiver as she slowed to a walk. The winter sun seemed unable to break through the cold and dry her coat. She shook her body violently, hoping to fling off the water. She shook her and laughed at her own foolishness. What a stupid thing to do. She chided herself. Not bothering to think any more, she leaped into a slow gallop, tossing her head to shake the water from her mane. She gave a joyful whinny and a few small bucks. A good feeling settled over her. The feeling of excitement, of something new, of something unknown. I love the unknown. She whispers. ]]> <![CDATA[to understand and to be understood | ANY]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=29970 Sun, 08 Aug 2021 20:07:09 +0000 Aurboro]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=29970 -IF YOU KNOW THE WHY, YOU CAN LIVE ANY HOW-
History can be defined as the study of the past. However, should you leave the past behind you, can you still be pulled in by the history? The complications of different histories that plague the various souls around her sing out like screams. Each has their own stories, their own shadows, and each define themselves in such interesting ways. The femme pulls herself in, absorbing the land that slumbers before her. The sway of meadow herbs and the morning dew that clings to each stalk tickles her pasterns. Her habit of rising before the sun has not diminished with her excitement of new adventures. Raising her eyes, she watched as the cosmos sparked out of existence, replaced by the cool colors of daybreak. Violets and blues streaked across a clear sky making the viridian land appear crisp and vivid. The time is almost here. Her preferred season of autumn lies just beyond the seas of green leaves and yellow flowers.

Her namesake, her image, her warmth and sense of calm. All takes root during the time between hot days and frozen nights. She could almost taste the sweet fruit that blossoms during the fall, could almost scent the spicy cinnamon bark. She reminisces on those flavors and memories as she takes a step forward. The unfamiliar land is trodden by worn paths and waking strangers. She lingers along a tree line, quietly surveying. Since the time of her home falling into rubble, her sense of loneliness has grown. The death of the elders has shaken the foundations of the nomads, and the troupe had eventually diminished. Families had moved on, and with them the young ones that she had been charged with guiding. Her sense of self had seemed to follow. Who was she if she couldn't teach and protect? She has discovered that she had too much time to loiter and wallow.

And thus, the russet mare had followed suit, saying farewell to the life she knew in favor for new beginnings. It has been some time since she had wandered into unknown territories, and her nerves were starting to show themselves. Flutters cramp her stomach and she flicked her ears back in confusion. She had never been considered apprehensive or shy before. With a flick of her tawny train, she mustered what determination and courage she could, ignoring the burning questions that were her own plague. Can she make new friends? Will she be accepted? Why would anyone want her around?
]]> -IF YOU KNOW THE WHY, YOU CAN LIVE ANY HOW-
History can be defined as the study of the past. However, should you leave the past behind you, can you still be pulled in by the history? The complications of different histories that plague the various souls around her sing out like screams. Each has their own stories, their own shadows, and each define themselves in such interesting ways. The femme pulls herself in, absorbing the land that slumbers before her. The sway of meadow herbs and the morning dew that clings to each stalk tickles her pasterns. Her habit of rising before the sun has not diminished with her excitement of new adventures. Raising her eyes, she watched as the cosmos sparked out of existence, replaced by the cool colors of daybreak. Violets and blues streaked across a clear sky making the viridian land appear crisp and vivid. The time is almost here. Her preferred season of autumn lies just beyond the seas of green leaves and yellow flowers.

Her namesake, her image, her warmth and sense of calm. All takes root during the time between hot days and frozen nights. She could almost taste the sweet fruit that blossoms during the fall, could almost scent the spicy cinnamon bark. She reminisces on those flavors and memories as she takes a step forward. The unfamiliar land is trodden by worn paths and waking strangers. She lingers along a tree line, quietly surveying. Since the time of her home falling into rubble, her sense of loneliness has grown. The death of the elders has shaken the foundations of the nomads, and the troupe had eventually diminished. Families had moved on, and with them the young ones that she had been charged with guiding. Her sense of self had seemed to follow. Who was she if she couldn't teach and protect? She has discovered that she had too much time to loiter and wallow.

And thus, the russet mare had followed suit, saying farewell to the life she knew in favor for new beginnings. It has been some time since she had wandered into unknown territories, and her nerves were starting to show themselves. Flutters cramp her stomach and she flicked her ears back in confusion. She had never been considered apprehensive or shy before. With a flick of her tawny train, she mustered what determination and courage she could, ignoring the burning questions that were her own plague. Can she make new friends? Will she be accepted? Why would anyone want her around?
]]> <![CDATA[heaven i'll never come home; any]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=29746 Mon, 21 Jun 2021 00:47:32 +0000 Aloy]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=29746 Summer closed stifling hot, reluctant to give way to a dry and slow cooling of autumn. Aloy landed on the coast weeks ago but has taken her time in coming inland. She’s no good at being home but keeps telling herself she’s staying this time. If she just tries there will be some reason to keep herself on the ground. Being home never feels like belonging. It feels just as shitty as any place else but with a bonus of eerie familiarity waving at her from this corner or that. 


When things go bad she comes home. It doesn’t make any fucking sense, but here she is galloping into the midst of the field to offer herself up. 


The ground is hard-packed beneath her hooves. Their percussive beats stirring dust when she gallops over the patchy grass. Whorls of flaking leaves spin across her path and disintegrate beneath her tread. The leggy mare is not certain how this is supposed to work, if she’s meant to make a friendly approach to someone else or if she ought to find a place to stand and look approachable. Both of these options are so unappealing that she strikes out at the earth and bucks once mid-flight to shake out the irritation that grips her muscles. She is not her mother, who unbeknownst to Aloy once stood on this same ground practically quivering with eagerness to know this place and its people.  Aloy would rather be alone.


If she could be alone she wouldn't be back here. Her mother had made her too pretty but did not pass on the ability to wield that beauty as a weapon.


When Aloy does stop the wind plucks at her feathers and twists her flaxen mane around the bases of her back-swept antlers. Otherwise, she is as still as she can be. Her breathing slows and her green eyes sweep methodically over the nearby horses. What is it they want? Not her.


She will not stand alone long. When someone comes close enough for whatever reason they do Aloy valiantly resists the urge to pin her gold trimmed ears at them. She only turns them backward which could be mistaken for coquette except that she's practically glaring.  "Can I help you?"


An excellent way to be invited into the shelter of a kingdom. ]]> Summer closed stifling hot, reluctant to give way to a dry and slow cooling of autumn. Aloy landed on the coast weeks ago but has taken her time in coming inland. She’s no good at being home but keeps telling herself she’s staying this time. If she just tries there will be some reason to keep herself on the ground. Being home never feels like belonging. It feels just as shitty as any place else but with a bonus of eerie familiarity waving at her from this corner or that. 


When things go bad she comes home. It doesn’t make any fucking sense, but here she is galloping into the midst of the field to offer herself up. 


The ground is hard-packed beneath her hooves. Their percussive beats stirring dust when she gallops over the patchy grass. Whorls of flaking leaves spin across her path and disintegrate beneath her tread. The leggy mare is not certain how this is supposed to work, if she’s meant to make a friendly approach to someone else or if she ought to find a place to stand and look approachable. Both of these options are so unappealing that she strikes out at the earth and bucks once mid-flight to shake out the irritation that grips her muscles. She is not her mother, who unbeknownst to Aloy once stood on this same ground practically quivering with eagerness to know this place and its people.  Aloy would rather be alone.


If she could be alone she wouldn't be back here. Her mother had made her too pretty but did not pass on the ability to wield that beauty as a weapon.


When Aloy does stop the wind plucks at her feathers and twists her flaxen mane around the bases of her back-swept antlers. Otherwise, she is as still as she can be. Her breathing slows and her green eyes sweep methodically over the nearby horses. What is it they want? Not her.


She will not stand alone long. When someone comes close enough for whatever reason they do Aloy valiantly resists the urge to pin her gold trimmed ears at them. She only turns them backward which could be mistaken for coquette except that she's practically glaring.  "Can I help you?"


An excellent way to be invited into the shelter of a kingdom. ]]>