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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    [open]  don't you hear me howling?
    #1
    Myrna
    suffocate the fire  i started--------------------
    right when it kindles



    Myrna raises her head, breathing deeply of the warm wind that pulls at her flaxen mane. Atop her head, the floral Crown of the Gates shifts, but remains firmly anchored within the circle of her twisting horns. Some of the petals fall, purple and yellow against her pale gold coat, but they are soon carried away by the wind, sailing across the rolling hills. Mynra’s blue gaze follows them until they vanish, and then sweep her gaze across the empty emerald and azure horizon.

    Beautiful.

    Empty.

    She thinks of Everclear, and Skywalker, and her family. For a moment, she sees the grass of a pampas rather than a prairie, and then the cold jagged edges of endless mountains. She has had many homes, but she had never been able to hold on to one for long. What had taken her from them varied: flooding, kidnapping, death. She’s called the Gates home for longer than most of them, and yet…

    She glances down to find her hooves have become paws, equipped with wickedly hooked claws that she digs into the loamy earth. Her indecision has expressed itself in her abilities, shifting her incompletely. The discomfort increases, the indecision between shapes - between staying as she is or becoming something different.

    Just for a while, she chooses to change.

    Myrna lowers her head, so that when her skull changes shape and the crown falls from between her ears, it does not fall far.

    A lioness with a pale golden coat stands where Myrna had. The eyes that it blinks open are the same shade of blue grey, and the teeth revealed in a slow stretch and wide yawn are as dangerous as the tips of her now-absent horns. Myrna no longer shifts into creatures that are preyed upon; she had learned that lesson young.

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    #2
    Skywalker
    "I don't want my life to imitate art,
    I want my life to be art."
    -Carrie Fisher

    She has been gone for too long and she is somewhat ashamed of it. Her thoughts linger on the pair of lovely mares that had taken her under their wings, that had embraced her without hesitation. She had repaid their kindnesses by disappearing abruptly, leaving no reason or explanation. She sighs heavily and her head lowers slightly as their faces swim across her vision. Perhaps they won’t be too upset with her.

    The air is damp and heavy with salt as she sails along, occasionally dipping low enough to skim the waters with her hooves. Though she may be older now, she is still enough of a child to kick at the surface a few times, scattering droplets far and wide, creating a short-lived rainbow that elicits a bubble of laughter. For just a few moments, she forgets her guilt and enjoys the remainder of her flight over the blue-green Baltian sea.

    Almost too soon, the border of the Gates greets her. She ascends higher in the air to better scout the area for a suitable landing spot. She spies the lavender field and the willow tree that she had chosen when she had first arrived and a bittersweet smile crosses her lips. She continues on a bit further without a second glance at the tree.

    Eventually, she chooses a fairly non-descript area. Her hooves thump lightly against the soft bed of clover. She breathes deeply in and out for several minutes, pleasant memories washing over her as the subtle scent fills her nostrils. Her head drops to take in more of the scent and her lips eventually begin to browse, seeking out the sweet shamrock leaves crowding beneath the colorful blossoms.

    She takes her time nibbling, sampling nearly everything, delighting in the varied and satisfying flavors that the rich soil has to offer. She’s stalling and she knows it, but she is also exceptionally aware of how quiet the land is and small pangs of contrition begin to needle at her chest again. Are they even still here?

    She finally musters the courage to begin exploring the painfully empty realm, eyes darting constantly in search of Myrna or Evermind. Perhaps fate will be kind enough to not only place them in her path, but also grant her easy forgiveness as well. Oh, but no such luck today. Instead, she finishes skirting a smallish hill that she hadn’t wanted to climb and finds herself staring at a wide-open mouth of terrifyingly sharp teeth.

    Her breaths and heartbeat quicken as she recognizes the threat that lounges before her. Can she make it into the air before the gold cat notices her presence? Her multicolored feathers rustle noisily as her wings instinctively spread and her muscles tense as she prepares to take flight..

    IMAGE BY otis4rt

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    #3
    Myrna
    suffocate the fire  i started--------------------
    right when it kindles



    Finishing her yawn, Myrna opens her eyes to see someone standing directly in front of her.

    She blinks, half-expecting them to disappear. But the face remains, and after a second and third blink she is able to pair it with the smaller face in her memory.

    “Sky!” She exclaims, leaping forward in excitement. A split-second later she recognizes the fear on the mare’s dark face, and the potential consequences of her enthusiastic greeting in this particular shape.

    In an instant Myrna transforms.  With the heavier weight of her equine body, the leap ends up more of a little hop, and her pricked ears, bright expression, and genuine delight at seeing Skywalker are evident.

    “I didn’t mean to startle you,” she says quickly, the word spilling out like water, “I was just…shifting.” There’s a moment of hesitation before the last word, because she’s not entirely sure what else she’d been doing. She glances back to where the crown rests, and finds that her head feels lighter without it in a myriad of ways.

    “It’s so good to see you.” She adds.



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    #4
    Skywalker
    "I don't want my life to imitate art,
    I want my life to be art."
    -Carrie Fisher

    Her name rings through the air and confusion settles in where fear had been rattling her bones. The voice sounds familiar, but a quick search of her memory does not recall ever meeting any large felines like this lioness that sits before her. Her grey eyes widen as the cat springs forward and she can’t seem to scramble away fast enough. Those same stormy eyes squeeze shut, anticipating the worst.

    The sound of hooves thudding on the ground and the lack of sharp canines on her throat only add to her confusion. Slowly, she reopens her eyes. Surprise and relief flood her system as she realizes Myrna stands before her instead of the lioness. The breath she’d been holding escapes in a loud sigh that quickly turns into a series of nervous giggles.

    Still so childlike in her impulsivity, she rushes forward immediately to embrace the pale mare. “Oh Myrna! I’m so glad to see you too!” She draws back to better look at Myrna and notices that something, something she can’t quite name, has changed in her friend. Her gaze shifts briefly to the crown that lays behind Myrna and a question burns in her storm-colored eyes, but she instead looks back to Myrna.

    “I don’t think I knew you could turn into other things! That’s very neat!” She shakes her head as her face falls slightly, but she continues on, “I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long. I don’t have a good answer as to why… is this still your home? How have you been, by the way?”

    Some things never change, including that rapid-fire way she speaks.

    IMAGE BY otis4rt

    @ Viszla 
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    #5
    Myrna
    suffocate the fire  i started--------------------
    right when it kindles



    Skywalker’s relief is clear, and though Myrna hadn’t meant to scare the other horse and has apologized, she does feel a little bad for the fright she’d caused. It’s not being held against her though, she finds, and Sky rushes forward to embrace her.

    Myrna happily returns the embrace, wrapping her palomino neck around the other tightly until she pulls away.

    Rather than address the glance toward the crown or the question in Skywalker’s gray eyes, Myrna instead focuses on the surprise that her shifting had been. “It is,” she confirms, “Shifting run in my family.”

    Skywalker’s apology for being gone is met with a tilt of Myrna’s golden head and small frown above her blue-grey eyes. “There’s nothing to apologize for,” she says, hopeful that her own longing to be able to do as Skywalker had and simply vanish, was not apparent in her wistful smile. “I only hope you were enjoying yourself, wherever you were instead.” She means that, and the sincerity in her voice is clear.

    “I’ve been good,” she answers, “I’ve been here.” Nothing has changed in the time Skywalker has been gone, Myrna realizes, the seasons had changed and yet the world is still the very same. There are a handful of new faces in the Gates, and a few that she no longer sees, but the kingdom is quiet.

    Peaceful and safe, and with Skywalker here: a little less empty.



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    #6
    Skywalker
    "I don't want my life to imitate art,
    I want my life to be art."
    -Carrie Fisher

    Her laughter loses its nervous edge and turns to delight upon learning that Myrna’s abilities have been passed down from her parents, though there is a barely audible whisper of something else in her voice.

    Honestly, she’s a little jealous of Myrna’s shifting ability. In fact, envy had been quietly creeping along the strings of her heart from the first moments she had begun meeting others in Beqanna. To her young eyes, they possessed supernatural beauty and were capable of such wonderous things. Though she loves her wings and the flight they give her, she can’t fully ignore the little twinges of desire for something more extraordinary to call her own.

    Her head drops a few inches and her feathers seem to wilt just a bit when the lighter-colored mare speaks of Sky’s happiness. She can feel the warmth in Myrna’s tone and fingers of guilt scrabble at her chest once more. Had she really enjoyed her time away from the Gates? She sighs quietly.

    “Well… I actually got lost to begin with! I don’t know if it was really all that fun or anything, but it was definitely something new. I guess I was looking for something, but I don’t really know what.”

    And that’s the bare truth of it. She isn’t sure what she was chasing, all she knows is that she did not find it. She was (and still is) embarrassed to come back after such a long absence, but she finds great comfort in how gracious and forgiving Myrna is. A smile returns to her face as she shakes herself off, all the way to the tips of her wings. Had she been paying more attention, she might have noticed the few golden glimmers that mysteriously appeared at some point, nestled subtly among the other bright colors interspersed throughout her primary feathers.

    “I’m glad you’re still here. It’s so nice to see a familiar face! Has anything happened lately? It seemed pretty quiet everywhere else I went…”

    IMAGE BY otis4rt

    @ Viszla

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    #7
    The concord of the Gates is not owed to its leader’s skills as a peacekeeper, but to the amity of the world as a whole. Myrna knows this; is grateful for it each and every day. There is no need for diplomacy in such a tranquil state, and without the perpetual threat of violence there has been no need for a standing army.

    There is little need for her to have any skill at all, Myrna has found.

    Little need for her, really.

    None of that shows on her face, not as anything more than a flicker in her eyes. Her smile remains, though it dims as Skywalker seems to ebb, her wings and head drooping at Myrna’s question.

    She starts to tell the other mare that she need not answer, not if she didn’t want to. But even as she opens her mouth, the dark haired mare begins to speak. Sky had been lost, she explains, and had been searching for something both undiscovered and unknown.

    Is she still looking, Myrna wonders? She doesn’t ask, not when some of Skywaker’s brightness is flowing back in, but she thinks that she should. Later.

    Her gaze catches for a moment on the glittering feathers. This time it is guilt that holds her tongue - had she forgotten those? - and she answers the question asked of her with a quick shake of her head.

    “Nothing at all.” Her eyes narrow in consideration, and then in the interest of honesty she adds: “Well, there are some new residents, and some of the old ones have moved away. And last month, we had a triple rainbow after a big storm. It’s the first time I’ve seen that.”

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    #8
    Skywalker
    "I don't want my life to imitate art,
    I want my life to be art."
    -Carrie Fisher

    She is not entirely surprised when Myrna informs her of the lack of activity within the Gates. Genuinely, that seems to be the case everywhere. Knowing nothing but the serenity that lulls over the whole of Beqanna, Sky is not quite as grateful as her companion. The vivacious child that she still is longs for something with great theatrics, something to soothe the itch of restlessness in her soul. But she notices the unfamiliar tightness in Myrna’s voice, but she lets it pass without comment and latches onto the idea of the triple rainbow.

    “Oh, I wish I could have seen it too!” Unadulterated joy lights her face as she continues exuberantly, “I bet it would be so much fun to fly through a rainbow! Don’t you think?” Her eyes glaze over as she envisions herself chasing down a rainbow and dashing effortlessly through the beautiful colors. She loses herself in the illusion for only a brief time and when she returns to reality, she looks excitedly to Myrna.

    “Can you turn into something that flies?” A faint twinge of that envy plucks at her again, but she shoves the feeling away and continues speaking in her usual whirlwind way, “We should find a rainbow and try it!” Her wings pull away from her body ever so slightly, her feathers vibrating with enthusiasm generated by the idea of flying with Myrna. If one is looking closely, they might notice that many of those feathers had changed again; dark, alluring jade green feathers now mingle with a larger population of the gilded feathers, while the blues, pinks, and purples have dwindled to but a scant handful of each color.

    The girl herself also seems to buzz with excess energy as she begins to shift her weight from foot to foot in an eager tap dance as she looks at Myrna expectantly. She’s never really had anyone to go flying with, to share the one thing that has always made her happy. As she waits for the golden mare’s response, a warm feeling spreads in her chest. This sense of fellowship may not have been what she had originally been looking for, but it is what she needs now.

    IMAGE BY otis4rt

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    698/1000
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    #9
    Can you turn into something that flies? Sky asks, and at that Myrna grins and sidles away a few paces as she says: “I can!” She holds the idea of wings in her mind, focusing intently on the way they feel, on what within her current shape must change to suit them. A moment later, there are black wings growing from her sides that are a feathered match to Skywalker’s own, right down to the more-numerous-than-before green and gold feathers.

    “I like these,” she says, lipping at an errant quill at her shoulder until it lies flat, “The new colors, I mean.” She is sure they are new since she’d last seen the other mare, perhaps the result of some adventure that Sky will share.

    With the feathers in place, she stretches out her wings in the space her side-stepping has given her. Lifting and lowering them a few times, she tucks them back into her sides with an excited smile. The prospect of flight with Skywalker has banished the shadows in her eyes, and the grin she offers the other is the brightest yet.

    “It’s been a while since I flew as a pegasus,” she confesses, stretching out the wings once more and turning them experimentally. “So go easy on me up there, alright?”

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