you're the beacon / saedis, enniska, & any - Printable Version +- Beqanna (https://beqanna.com/forum) +-- Forum: OOC (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=24) +--- Forum: Archive (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=81) +---- Forum: Lands (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=98) +----- Forum: Tephra (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=85) +----- Thread: you're the beacon / saedis, enniska, & any (/showthread.php?tid=18079) |
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you're the beacon / saedis, enniska, & any - wound - 01-27-2018 Their walk to Tephra is a gorgeous one, with an early spring dawn cresting the hills. The scents of spring linger in the air as they weave between grassy, rolling hills to reach the shoreline. Wound enjoys the trip peacefully, although she cannot help but wince every once in a while as the added weight of her unborn child causes more pain to her limp. She does not fault her child ever, but as her sides continue to swell the aches and pains become a bit more frustrating. Regardless of her soreness, Wound happily answers any questions either of the mares might have for her. The silver bay is happy to see that the tide has rolled out when they reach the canal. A sandbank lies before them, the granules heavily-packed and still damp with saltwater. Tidal pools are found sporadically spread along the shoreline. Wound turns to explain the situation to Saedis and Enniska. “Tephra is actually an island just off Beqanna’s mainland. When the tide comes in, this sandbank will be covered with ocean water. It’s not impossible to swim through, but I usually wait until the tide goes out.” She offers them a tender smile of comfort before turning to briskly limp across the bank, weaving between tide pools containing assorted ocean wildlife waiting to be released back to their homes as the water rolls back in. As they reach the other side of the canal, densely-packed sand turns into fine pebbles. The large volcano that loomed in the distance is now much closer — only on the other side of the island. Wound pauses once they reach the treeline, where the rocks condense themselves into well-traveled dirt. The morning has passed by now as they’ve traveled. There is no snow in sight, despite it still being the early days of spring. “Welcome to Tephra, Saedis and Enniska.” A sunny smile brightens the silver bay’s face. “It is always humid here, so we rarely see snow. On the other side of the island is our volcano, but I haven’t heard of it erupting.” Wound’s ears flick toward the depths of the forest, where she knows Longclaw is hiding somewhere. He’s met her to greet the recruits each time thus far, and part of her wonders if he will show up again (she hopes so, although the sensible side of her mind curses her out for that thought). “Do either of you have any questions?” @[Saedìs] @[Enniska] In order to keep with the timeline, this thread is taking place in early spring, before Wound births Wishbone ((: RE: you're the beacon / saedis, enniska, & any - Enniska - 01-29-2018 Enniska Were we just kids, just starting out? RE: you're the beacon / saedis, enniska, & any - Saedìs - 01-30-2018
Her child´s eyes are impatient in their waiting; they study every shadow and every echo in Wound´s and Enniska´s eyes, and long for the reflections she sees there. As Wound agrees to take them to her home, and Enniska agrees to follow a desire is set free somewhere within her and the ocean depths of her gaze are momentarily flooded with unbridled joy. How their company soften her young face! She is dreamlit and starsky and when her companions set off into the darkness, so she follows without hesitation. Her footfalls are light, and she floats wraith-like after Enniska and Wound, her steps made silent by the others bolder strides. It has been a long, long while since the soil fueled her with electricity, and her excitement is only containable by the fact that the smell of sea strengthens the closer they get to Tephra – step for step she matches Enniska and Wound until they are but a glimpse of dawndust and morning, Saedís their shadow. How long had it been since the girl had tasted seasalt; how long since the ocean breeze sighed along her neck? As they move closer her memories grow stronger, for she can smell the sea now, and her hunger for it is unstoppable. When they breech the other side of the canal, and when Wounds gait begins to slow, her desire consumes her so much that she calls out for them to stop, and so Saedís does in turn, with the feel of sand-grass beneath her feet. ”Wound!” She is breathless, both from their journey and from the sight of it; she can say no more for the water has drowned her vision. Her frame is an arch of moonlight as she sings her praises to the sky; she plunges earthward again and the ground below her surges, and she is reunited with her greatest love. Bird and bear and hare and fish, bring my love his greatest wish! And the ocean answers her, It is you! But she has not forgotten her newfound friends, and so she returns to them, dancing, with the surf on her back. ”This is the ocean” Saedís chimes in response to Enniskas question, desperately hoping that her friend will come to love it as much as she does. ”I never knew Beqanna had one.” ”Thank you, for bringing us here” she says to Wound. A sweet tribute of her gratitude, match with the starlit glow of her eyes; but there is something more there, the mischief of a child. Saedís breathes her thankfulness along the shoulder of Wound and then dares to place the gentlest of butterfly kisses there, the nip from shy teeth. Then she smiles at the both of them again as she turns, kicking up the sand as she bolts down the beach; sea-goddess playing in the surf. |
I t hadn’t occurred to Wound that the ocean might be a vague — perhaps impossible — term to understand. Her entire life had been spent with the knowledge that Beqanna’s shorelines displayed the endless lengths of the seas. She hadn’t considered, however, that those from Beyond might not know of the depth and width of the reflective, salty waves.It is for that reason that Enniska’s surprised question catches the silver bay off-guard. “It can have several names — the sea, the ocean — but it is not a lake. Those who grow up along the waves of the ocean know not to drink from it.” A fond memory twines along the tendrils of her thought. Her brothers had tempted her to try to taste the salty waves, to wade out deep enough that their foamy crests would not wash against the slits of her nostrils. And she had done it, fiercely trusting in their protection and security, and immediately regretted it. Wound chuckles quietly to herself and then turns her attention back to her new friends before the ache of missing her brothers holds her too tightly. When their hooves touch Tephra’s shore, Saedis races along the shore like a rocket. Wound laughs aloud, throwing her head back and enjoying the way the salty breeze tangles her ombre mane. She, too, finds strong joy her adoration for the ocean and its many components (the rhythmic pull and release of the waves, the moon-sung rise of the tides, the caw of the seagull, the taste of salt on her lips, the strength of the currents tugging at her legs) and it brings her happiness to know that one of her new friends shares that same love. “You are very welcome, Saedis.” Wound accepts the butterfly-kiss with a friendly action of her own, a touch of her nose to the damp curve of her crest, just below her glistening, salt-smelling locks. Her mouth is graced with a sunny smile as the pale mare races back into the pull of the surf. Although Wound enjoys the ocean just as sincerely as Saedis, she adores swimming when the moon is high and the constellations are reflected in the lulling waves. The silver bay turns toward Enniska at her question about the volcano and its possibility of eruption. Her brow furrows together for a moment and she mentally reminds herself to ask Warrick about the question. She didn’t want to outright deny Enniska of information, so Wound tries her best to respond regardless of her ignorance. “I would suppose we’d run for the beach with the intention of swimming to the mainland. I would have to ask Warrick about it though — that’s a new question for me.” She’s momentarily guilty at the thought that she might not have wondered about the threat of their volcano before. “Warrick is Tephra’s Overseer. He’s very friendly” — that’s a bit of an understatement in Wound’s case, with her swollen sides and very pregnant womb — “and if you ever see him around, he’s a bay stallion with wings.” |