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+---- Thread: [open] Unbidden, unbroken, untimely; Kagerus, Kasanova; Any (/showthread.php?tid=17482)
Unbidden, unbroken, untimely; Kagerus, Kasanova; Any - Insignificance - 12-06-2017
 So we walk - in this hushed hybrid time when day collapses into night. And I dream, a dream about memories. So many faces, so many memories. I wonder why it is that I stumbled upon these remnants of the past again. Maybe it’s because I´ve put them down – slowly and one by one, I´ve left most of them behind me, like wet footprints in the sand. Or maybe it’s that the past was that elusive thing I was pursuing all these wandering years, a chain of footprints that ends in a circle. I haven´t forgotten these faces, their names, but I just haven’t been remembering. Seeing them again (if only in my mind) is like getting lost and finding the loveliest of flowers where once you had buried a seed and forgotten. But my dreams are not of flowers or stardust , no. In my head is nothing but the twisted whispers coward, coward, coward that hit me like a freight train of agony and regret. I walk in silence – lost to the torment in my own head. My ignoble nose is kept gently touching the back of Kagerus. She is the cane to which I grasp like a lost bird in the storm. But if she talks I do not hear – my mind has wandered elsewhere – scattered, but she is still the anchor to where my consciousness – what is left of it, all senses and no senses, cling. Perhaps I am finally losing my mind. I walk mindlessly, lifting my legs and tipping my head so that my soot-black hair falls to the side, away from my eyes. It gives me a whimsical sort of look, that of a girl high-stepping over puddles as she dreams of another world. But our hearts beat in rhythm and all will be well – I am a hapless shadow in the wake of Kagerus – withered and thin, like a skeleton draped with moonshine. Then suddenly she stops in the middle of a field (the field) and with a pathetic yelp I collide into her. There is no strength in my brittle bones, but the force of the collision is enough to snap me out of my daydreams. Is this it? I says softly, disoriented - taking a step back - standing just far enough that both our shadows could lie between us. And for the first time during our journey – I lift my eyes to look at my friend - the fading fire of the sun plays across the tapered lines of her face, touching the pressed line of her mouth, the sadness at the corners of her eyes. Suddenly I remember why we´re there, and my eyes search for the cream colored yearling, quietly wondering if he too, had followed us here. What a sad sight we must be . |
RE: Unbidden, unbroken, untimely; Kagerus, Kasanova; Any - Kagerus - 12-08-2017
Out with the golden we sew, and the lower past that crawls.
Now, to the doorway you run, to the girl that's not lost.
Now, to the doorway you run, to the girl that's not lost.
Her soft, billowing breath is the source from which I draw my strength and confidence. I can hear her hooves gently following the rhythm of my own, but I know that she is lost to her thoughts; but had I been truly alone on this journey, I know I would never have found my way to the field. She is my charge, my companion, my sister. With her to look out for, and her looking out for me, too, I am able to get us there safely.
I do not interrupt her thoughts as we travel, respecting her private thoughts, racing as they must be - like my own. My head is filled to the brim with questions and queries and why do you know my father's name? For a moment, I contemplate stopping and confronting the tawny woman, I contemplate getting my answers now. But the inelegance and disgraceful nature of such an action is unbecoming of me, and of my friendship with Sig. Already my respect and admiration for her outshines my own self ambition. Whenever her muzzle strays from my back, I adjust my position to find her touch again.
The land clears and a plateaued field comes into view (the field). My nutmeg eyes and small ears are whisking to and from stimuli, eager and frightened all at once. The sensations must have overwhelmed me, for in my curiosity I stop without warning. I jolt at Sig's body bumping into mine, but I also hear her cry and she is immediately forgiven. I reach out my dark muzzle reassuringly, nudging her nose and lifting her head higher with a soft nicker. I'm here, my body language says, and to the others who look at us curiously, it's either both of us, or neither.
She asks me then if this is it, and I smile. She withdraws from my touch but I don't mind; I am happy to do only as she needs. I look away to scan the crowd as her own eyes fall on the curves and edges of my features, reminiscent about something that I have yet to understand. But all shall be answered in time, and for now, we two motley women require a home. Our skin-and-bone ribs quiver in anticipation, our thin but promising legs shuffling gently beneath us.
"This is it, Sig," I say in return, turning my eyes to her wounded but inexplicably lovely face. Like my father before me, I see now the beauty in the simpleness of her features, and in the russet fibers of her coat. I liken myself to her as if I am predisposed to do so - and in a way, I am.
"Home awaits us."
A sad sight we are, and to some, write offs - but others? They will see our potential.
I do not interrupt her thoughts as we travel, respecting her private thoughts, racing as they must be - like my own. My head is filled to the brim with questions and queries and why do you know my father's name? For a moment, I contemplate stopping and confronting the tawny woman, I contemplate getting my answers now. But the inelegance and disgraceful nature of such an action is unbecoming of me, and of my friendship with Sig. Already my respect and admiration for her outshines my own self ambition. Whenever her muzzle strays from my back, I adjust my position to find her touch again.
The land clears and a plateaued field comes into view (the field). My nutmeg eyes and small ears are whisking to and from stimuli, eager and frightened all at once. The sensations must have overwhelmed me, for in my curiosity I stop without warning. I jolt at Sig's body bumping into mine, but I also hear her cry and she is immediately forgiven. I reach out my dark muzzle reassuringly, nudging her nose and lifting her head higher with a soft nicker. I'm here, my body language says, and to the others who look at us curiously, it's either both of us, or neither.
She asks me then if this is it, and I smile. She withdraws from my touch but I don't mind; I am happy to do only as she needs. I look away to scan the crowd as her own eyes fall on the curves and edges of my features, reminiscent about something that I have yet to understand. But all shall be answered in time, and for now, we two motley women require a home. Our skin-and-bone ribs quiver in anticipation, our thin but promising legs shuffling gently beneath us.
"This is it, Sig," I say in return, turning my eyes to her wounded but inexplicably lovely face. Like my father before me, I see now the beauty in the simpleness of her features, and in the russet fibers of her coat. I liken myself to her as if I am predisposed to do so - and in a way, I am.
"Home awaits us."
A sad sight we are, and to some, write offs - but others? They will see our potential.
Kagerus
sweet nothing
HI RECRUITERS PLEASE GO NUTS THANKS
RE: Unbidden, unbroken, untimely; Kagerus, Kasanova; Any - Kelsie - 12-11-2017
It's been a while since he has made his way from the islands of Ischia and onto the mainland of Beqanna. Though when he does he immediately heads towards the location of the field in search of an opportunity to possibly help his new home grow. He had worked hard when Circinae had taken over the island and quickly became it's watcher - and then came the shell and it's decision. Without hesitation it had chosen Krone to become the new queen and appropriately so. She had done all she could to prove herself to the islands heart that she was worthy of the crown and with her own heart and soul poured into her home she had won the islands trust. With the Islands decision, he had become Krone's immediate loyal follower and now it was time for him to do his part in full.
The summer day was warm and bright as the suns rays welcomed him into the openness of the field. With confident steps, his long muscular legs carried him through the tall green grasses as small puffy white clouds floated above among the bright blue sky. The sweet singsong of the morning doves carried through the gentle air as they flitted between the trees and before he knows it his dark brown eyes land on a pair of mares painted brown and white. As he walks he studies them before finally making the decision to make his way over. Like the first mare he knew what it was like to feel like an outcast. He had surely felt that way when he had first decided to join Ischia. He had been unlike the rest, though over time he had grown to like those around him and realized he was more like them all then he had once assumed.
So to him there was not an ounce of lost hope for her. At least, that is what he would say if he knew she felt the way she did... Before he knows it he is close to them and with a nicker of greeting he nods his head in welcome. "Ladies," he says gently with a deep and quiet tone. "Hello," he pauses. "I'm Kelsie and I come from the islands of Ischia." Coming to a stop he glances at them both, meeting each of their gazes. "How are you both doing today?" It's his first time to recruit, so he's not as apt at this as others may be - though he hopes this won't deter them or their potential choice to follow him back.
@[Kagerus] @[Insignificance]
RE: Unbidden, unbroken, untimely; Kagerus, Kasanova; Any - Insignificance - 12-18-2017
Rebirth. It is a strange thing, for it can be interpreted in so many different ways. To me, rebirth could be a state of mind. In my mind – I had been reborn into this new world of Beqanna. (to stay by her side). I am not what I once was, but the life I left behind still clung. It was still there, fighting, trying to survive. Kagerus It was a name that held so much meaning to me that I was short of breath at its very mention. A wave of every emotion possible slams into me like a tidal wave. Maybe Kagerus is my own personal quest, my road to salvation. Perhaps she is what keeps the small part of me alive. The last morsel of hope fighting to live, even if it is only a dim light showing on occasion. Faces dance across my mind in a slow ballet and while before I was drowning in this sea of memories, Kagerus words bring my sanity back to me – making me see that I am not alone. I slap myself to reality and away from insanity as I smile absently back at her words. ”Home” I echo, paused (or poised) on the cusp of night – of morning – of leaving this place. So when the stallion Kelsie goes to us – I do not falter. I turn towards him, my back towards the sun and my pitted eyes glitter faintly with the reflection of sunlight, though I was not captivated by the splendor of morning. If he looked closely – he would see the angst in my stance, in the way my matted tail flicks disquietly. I am a broken withered thing, a rose trampled on the ground. Burrs and nettles adorn the tassels of my greying mane, and I am thin, weak and pathetic. My wildflower companion is not much better off, but there is still the faint glimmer of youth in her eye, and a quiet beauty despite the gaunt of her ribs. A sad sight as we huddle together against the rest of the world. With one long inhalation to help calm my nerves, I force a smile upon my lips – for his words are gentle to my battered ears and there is an air of uncertainty about him that puts my mind at ease, and I wonder when I turned from independent into terrified. "Hello" I rasp "I am Insignificance, and this is Kagerus" and there´s a pause. A pause where my greying muzzle gently touches the hollow of her shoulder lovingly. "And we are lost." I know I should say something more, but the ability to produce pleasantries and engage in simple conversations has escaped me. |
@Kagerus @Kelsie - sorry about the lateness and the crappiness of this! Busy week at work
RE: Unbidden, unbroken, untimely; Kagerus, Kasanova; Any - Kagerus - 12-18-2017
Out with the golden we sew, and the lower past that crawls.
Now, to the doorway you run, to the girl that's not lost.
Now, to the doorway you run, to the girl that's not lost.
We do not wait long, the rag tag pair of us. Apparently there is more appeal in the gaunt outlines of our ribs and the listless shine of our eyes than either of us anticipated. Our shoulders twitch in unison as a breeze brushes our fur in the wrong direction; it must be clear to him that we come together. We watch as he approaches.
His demeanor is far more acceptable to me than that of the first stallion we encountered; I leave my bladed words sheathed, retaining the mousiness of my character. Kelsie is his name, and his comes from the islands of Ischia - he also wishes to know how we are today. Better than yesterday, I muse as Sig introduces us. Better since I met her. I lip lovingly at her forelock as she touches me, her warm breath soothing and reassuring. When her last sentence is long past, I realize that I should elaborate - that being lost isn't all the information this stallion needs.
I return my nutmeg gaze to him, shifting my weight but not relaxing into my hips. "Your home sounds lovely," I begin, "But my friend and I know nothing of the lands in this new realm. We are from before the change," The stallion looks young, but perhaps he has heard - it has not been long enough for the Beqanna of old to have been forgotten. "Please, tell us of the kingdoms now - or at least, the ones you think we might be most suited to."
"I know it goes against your nature, that your ruler wants you to bring us to her or him." The boldness of my character has begun to show, to shine through the cracks which I allow. "But if you know of a land, any land, where two mares of little renowned can learn to grow and become whole again, please take us there." My words have drawn on far longer than my companion's, and for a moment I feel sheepish, embarrased, as if I am over stepping my bounds. But I am not - not if this stallion has a morsel of goodness in him, and I think he does.
"Like Sig said," I say more quietly, with a small, sad smile toying with my lips, "We are lost, and in need of a guide."
His demeanor is far more acceptable to me than that of the first stallion we encountered; I leave my bladed words sheathed, retaining the mousiness of my character. Kelsie is his name, and his comes from the islands of Ischia - he also wishes to know how we are today. Better than yesterday, I muse as Sig introduces us. Better since I met her. I lip lovingly at her forelock as she touches me, her warm breath soothing and reassuring. When her last sentence is long past, I realize that I should elaborate - that being lost isn't all the information this stallion needs.
I return my nutmeg gaze to him, shifting my weight but not relaxing into my hips. "Your home sounds lovely," I begin, "But my friend and I know nothing of the lands in this new realm. We are from before the change," The stallion looks young, but perhaps he has heard - it has not been long enough for the Beqanna of old to have been forgotten. "Please, tell us of the kingdoms now - or at least, the ones you think we might be most suited to."
"I know it goes against your nature, that your ruler wants you to bring us to her or him." The boldness of my character has begun to show, to shine through the cracks which I allow. "But if you know of a land, any land, where two mares of little renowned can learn to grow and become whole again, please take us there." My words have drawn on far longer than my companion's, and for a moment I feel sheepish, embarrased, as if I am over stepping my bounds. But I am not - not if this stallion has a morsel of goodness in him, and I think he does.
"Like Sig said," I say more quietly, with a small, sad smile toying with my lips, "We are lost, and in need of a guide."
Kagerus
sweet nothing