"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
The summer sun is warm on her back and a thrush sings sweetly from his nearby nest. Djinni has always loved summer, but she finds that she is even fonder still of the season while not in the Desert. AS much as she had enjoyed her childhood – raised by two loving parents and always with a passel of siblings to play with – she had not been don of the boiling sun of summer.
Here in the meadow, the heat is present but not oppressive. Her grullo back is not streaked with sweat but she does realize that she is thirsty, and slowly opens her dark eyes. The little creek that runs into the wide lake of the meadow is only a few yards away, and she moves through the swaying golden grasses until she stands at the bank and can drink.
There are a handful of other horses around, the nearest of which is a greying black stallion. Feeling surprisingly companionable, Djinni moves a bit closer, alerting him to her presence with a quiet whicker in case he is lost in thought. “Hello there,” she says, her voice gentle and her smile sweet, “I’m Djinni. Nice day we’re having, isn’t it?”
Months has passed since he had arrived at the meadow, months that he once again spend with the only companion he had had in life. To Brynmor it was his only true friend, the only one who seemed to care enough about him to spend time with him, all though they bickered and fought most of the time. And that had only gotten worse since Missy’s game.
Brynmor knew that it had been his hands that held the knife when the blade had pierced through her skin and of course he blamed himself for it. Both for doing it and for being so weak that his friend had been able to influence him like that, but the graying male couldn’t help but to resent him for the manipulating.
Currently they were once again bickering back and forth and he couldn’t help the anger that rose within him once again. ’Oh shut up Brynnie. I only tried to do what would be the best for us’ was his friends remark. The way his friend spoke always made him feel so so small, like he was belittled all of the time. ”No you shut up!” he snapped back as he stomps his right foreleg on the ground while his tail flicks through the air. ”You made me do it and I cannot forgive you for that” he continued after a short pause. Brynmor didn’t notice the approach of the two toned mare, too engrossed in their current discussion to pay attention to the world around him.
Well, that was until her thoughtful whicker reached his ears before she greeted him. The young male stumbles a little as his head jerks up and his ears move around. Just as Brynmor is about to ask when she continues. ”If you say so..” he replies to her, still a little weary and held back. He breaths deeply to take in her scent, one he doesn’t recognize, but it at least meant that she wasn’t send to check on his progress. Eventually he turns towards her, or better said, he turns into the direction he thinks that Djinni stands, as his white orbs are not able to take in his environment. ”I’m Brynmor.”
And it was then that his friend decided to speak up again, obviously waiting for Brynmor to lower his guard to snarl his hurtful words at the blind man. ’I’m not the one who killed her, you did.’
"Through your secret."
OOC: Italic is what the imaginary voice in his head says, colored is what Bryn himself says out loud ^^
Closer now, the strange motions made by the stallion make more sense. The whiteness of his eyes, the way her arrival startled him – he must be blind. Djinni cannot imagine what that must be like, to live in a world and lack one of the most important senses. He’s never seen a sunrise, she thinks as he answers her, or looked upon the face of another horse.
There is something else off, something that she cannot quite put a name on. Brynmor seems to be on guard, but against more than just the world. Is this the way blind horses are, she wonders? Are deaf horses just as tense? She doesn’t have time to linger on the thought long. The stallion introduces himself and she offers a smile that she realizes too late that he cannot see.
“It is a nice day,” she says, “No clouds in the sky, though I suspect we’ll have a thunderstorm by afternoon if the horizon is any guide.” There are iron grey thunderheads roiling in the east, promising a summer afternoon storm. She’ll have to find somewhere away from the rain she thinks, and then immediately wonders where this blind stallion has to go. “Do you live here?” She asks, “Or are you just visiting the Meadow?”
11-17-2015, 09:07 AM (This post was last modified: 11-17-2015, 09:08 AM by Brynmor.)
Brynmor
"I will see."
All he can do is believing her on her words. He didn’t know what a beautiful day was or what she exactly meant with it, because of the simple question ‘what is beautiful?’. Sure he could feel the sun on his back or the rain soaking his coat. Snow was something Brynmor was familiar with too, but he simply didn’t know what she meant with beautiful. ”I will have to believe your words for that” he replies, shrugging his shoulders slightly. Yet he did manage to offer her a small smile, after all, it wasn’t her fault that he wasn’t able to see.
’I’m not the one who killed her, you did.’
Brynmor sucked in an icy breath, his body totally frozen except for the trembling of his body. Anger, hate, guilt. It all flashed through him and the different emotions were shown upon his features. His heart throbbed painfully, knowing all too well that it had been his human hands that had held the knife.
The gray male presses his ears flat against his skull, lips parting to show bared teeth as his head swings from the left to the right. Brynmor snaps his teeth in the air, not sure in which way he has to direct his attack towards his imaginary friend. ”You shouldn’t have said that” he hisses, stamping his hoof on the ground. ”We both know well that you you deceived me into doing it!”
Meanwhile Djinni’s words and presence were forgotten. Brynmor was too preoccupied with his dear friend, or not so dear friend, to pay her any attention. ’Oh hush. Stop being such a baby, it’s not like she would’ve survived anyway. She simply was too weak and you know it.’ The build-up anger causes the gray male to tremble, as he cannot release it in a physical way. ”You don’t know how badly I wish to regain my sight again” - to kick your ass - he snaps back, still moving around a little wearily in an attempt to locate his dear, or not so dear friend.
"Through your secret."
OOC: I hope I don’t scare her away, hehe. After the quest he won’t ever think of harming someone who has only been friendly to him, but I guess Djinni doesn’t know that (yet). So I hope that she’s more focussed on his last sentence and the word 'wish' than anything else ^^.
He doesn’t seem assuaged by her attempt at friendliness, but his smile makes her stay. She can’t very well walk away without saying anything; what if he still thought she was there and continued speaking to her? She might be ill at ease, but she can’t quite bring herself to be rude.
Brynmor, however, seems to have forgotten her entirely. He reacts to – as far as she can tell – nothing at all, but the emotions that flash across his face cause Djinni to take a few steps back and reconsider leaving. She is frightened, a perfectly normal reaction, and she is uncomfortable. When the grey stallion begins to speak to someone that she cannot see, Djinni does begin to move away, taking one small step backwards at a time.
Best to keep her distance, she decides, best to stay out of harm’s way.
But then he says the word, the one word that she’s never been able to ignore. It’s her mother’s fault, her mother’s and the Djinn’s. She’s never minded before; every time before it has been a pleasant thing, a happy wish.
With the same quick ease as all her chicanery, she restores Brynmor’s sight. It will be no better or worse than it was before he lost it – she only gives back exactly what he had asked for “his sight again”. She pauses for a moment in her movement, unsure if perhaps this newly granted wish might change the stallion’s odd behavior.
12-09-2015, 05:36 AM (This post was last modified: 12-09-2015, 05:37 AM by Brynmor.)
Brynmor
"I will see."
”Bastard! Don’t hide you-“ self, but Brynmor finds himself unable to finish the sentence directed towards his friend. He stands there, completely frozen, except for his eyelids that are moving as he blinks. He can see, slowly but surely his sight gets better, and the graying stallion can only be frightened by what’s going on. He starts trembling and his ears are turned backwards as his insecurity rises. Was he turned back into a human again? After all, the only time he had been able to see was during the time of Missy’s games, it would be a logical thing to think. ”No no no, not that again” he whimpers in fear. ”I can’t go through that again..” He steps a little backwards and using his newly gained sight to glance around him.
But there is no-one. None except the mare that he concluded to be Djinni. His knees were still trembling, not fully understanding what was happening and also because his demons that he was reminded of once again. Brynmor’s blue eyes find her and he can only look at her. All the anger, pain and frustration from before is gone, and he is left a little shaken. ”You.. Did you do this?” his voice is a whisper, only just loud enough to reach her. As he looks at her, this time in the right direction, he is startled by the third voice that speaks up. ’Of course this was her doing, who else is here to cast such magic?’
The voice is familiar, belonging to the one he had known all his life, yet this time he realises that there isn’t a third horse with them. It doesn’t stop him from turning and glancing around, his heartbeat rising and panic growing. Than Brynmor suddenly stops, looking at Djinni as his nostrils flare wide and he is somewhat panting. ”All this time, was is just you and me? Or was there another male with me when you approached me?” he asks her, eyes and voice almost pleading for her to tell him that he wasn’t mad. There had to be an explanation for this, a logical one, but deep down in his heart he knew the truth already. Shaytan must have been right.
