"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
Well I've been saved by the grace of southern charm, I got a mouth like a sailor and yours is more like a Hallmark card
Dancing through the borders of Beqanna, the faerie arrives in a cloud of cheerful bubbly effervescence. Long slender legs move in a dazzling trot beneath a curvaceous snow hued body, mane and tail floating like silken white tapestries from her arched neck and tail head. The only mar to her pristine white perfection was the darkened muzzle, a leftover from her true color of bay roan. She knew she was pretty, and sometimes she used that to her advantage. A girl's gotta use what's at her disposal, right?
Her parents had gifted her with the beauty of both of their lineages. Her father had been an Arabian, so from him she got the dainty dished head and cupped ears, along with the proud way she carried her tail. From her mother's Andalusian heritage she'd inherited the beautifully curved baroque neck and a little more size than your average Arabian possessed. Her body was a curvaceous mix of the two types, delicateness and heavy muscle vying for attention upon a coat the color of the cumulus clouds in the sky.
Mincing steps draw her through the fresh green grass, tail flagged over her back in typical fashion, she was a proud creature. Dark eyes glanced around the field she stood in, taking note of all the others here who seemed to be looking for homes. So at least she'd wandered into the right place if she was going to go home with someone. Picking a spot on a small rise to show off her beauty in the dappled sunlight, Illusen lowered her head to the grass. Lipping daintily at the verdant spears, she kept a watchful eye and ear out for prospective suitors. Surely someone here would want to take the ivory faerie home with them and make her their own.
Mare 4 Hispano-Arabe 15.3 hands Gray (bay roan based)(Ee/Aa/Rr/Gg) No King, home or young Sael
Well I'll keep drinkin' and you'll keep gettin' skinnier, I'm just like you, only prettier
I was staring at the sky, just looking for a star...
Pomona stood on the outskirts of the field, observing the other visitors with pleasant interest, her mouth grazing at the sweet grasses when there was a lull in new arrivals. Perhaps she was waiting for someone, or perhaps she was only here to eat something more mundane than the exotic plants of her home.
When a gray mare appeared, the matronly Amazonian looked up with just a hint of envy in her dark chocolate eyes. This stranger appeared as graceful as the wind, beautiful but solid. Everything that Pomona sometimes wished she could be. Duty, more than curiosity prods the shy mare towards the pretty creature, perhaps she was here for work after all. Pomona is a matronly mare clad in a liver chestnut pelt, beginning to be past middle age. She might have been uninteresting, drab even, if not for a couple of additives and a gentle looking face. Wings literally made of golden colored light were tucked along her back like a mantle, shedding a candle-like glow over the rich cocoa colored hairs of her body. The mark of her Queendom literally bloomed from her breast in the form of a blood red moth orchid, the green vine of the flower snaking down her right leg while each cheek bore a pinkish golden chevron that professed the knowledge that she'd earned at least one rank within the Sisterhood.
When Pomona spoke, it was a motherly voice in a gentle alto that asked, "Are you new to Beqanna? I can hardly profess to know all the faces within the lands but I'm certain I've never seen yours. If you are looking for help, or a home, or something else I could help you with I would be pleased to do so." Pomona would recruit for the Jungle if at all possible, but she was a helpful creature and wasn't unwilling to steer the fae-like horse towards a different destiny if that was what the girl chose instead.
kreios don't you tame your demons, but always keep them on a leash
Though I am a pale creature myself, I have never seen something quite so white as the mare that prances through the field. She reminds me of a cloud, light and airy, and I know that if I were to ignore her for my grazing I would be a fool indeed. I trail her until she slows down, keeping a comfortable distance so as not too seem aggressive. When she is approached by another horse before I can draw near enough to talk I am not surprised. She is sure to attract attention.
I take a moment to look over the second mare as I crest the hill where they stand. She has wings such as I have never seen, composed entirely of light. They illuminate the colorful tattoos of the Sisterhood she belongs to, and I think of my meetings with Amazons in the past, and smile warmly at her as I settle beside her. “Hello,” I say, lowering my horned head in a respectful nod before turning to the white mare. She’s even prettier up close, small and delicate – my opposite in nearly every way. I shake a few red strands of my mane way from my face as I smile in greeting: “I’m Kreios.”
The Amazon is offering assistance already, clearly a skilled talker. I cannot make that claim, I tend to speak slowly and carefully, as though I am weighing each word before it leaves my mouth. I am, in a sense, but I no longer need to in the way I did as a child. It is a habit that has stuck, despite the fact that my malformed tongue was healed by a magician many years ago. I consider saying something more, but I feel as though the chestnut Amazon has covered most everything I would, at least until the cloud-mare has given her name. Was she asked for that? Had the Amazon given hers? Perhaps I had missed it, but best to be sure.
“What are your names?” I could have just asked after my target (though that words seems rather uncouth) but I am just as interested in the Amazon.
Well I've been saved by the grace of southern charm, I got a mouth like a sailor and yours is more like a Hallmark card
The faerie hadn't been alone long when a magnificent mare approached her. Raising her dainty head from the grass, she looked in unabashed wonder at the other mare's wings. They appeared to be made entirely of light and backlit her coat into a rich chocolate and displayed some beautiful tattoos. She spoke of offering assistance to the white maid, and before Illusen could answer yet another horse appeared.
Ram horns spiraled from his head in an intriguing display, and he brought with him the scent of sand. Dipping her head in a return of his respectful gesture, she spoke in a chiming girlish soprano.
Hello! My name is Illusen! And yes this is my first time here in Beqanna. Are there many different lands here? And your wings and horns are splendid! Where I come from I never saw a winged or horned horse. Everyone was just different colors or builds. It is a pleasure to meet you Kreios.
She turns to the pretty mare and smiles, awaiting her response to Kreios' question. Surely the other woman had a name that was just as beautiful and intriguing as she was.
Mare 4 Hispano-Arabe 15.3 hands Gray (bay roan based)(Ee/Aa/Rr/Gg) No King, home or young Sael
Well I'll keep drinkin' and you'll keep gettin' skinnier, I'm just like you, only prettier
kreios don't you tame your demons, but always keep them on a leash
I like the sound of her voice; it reminds me of the way the wind whistle through the canyons of the Orange Country, or perhaps the trill of birdsong. It fits her, I decide as I look at her. It do manage to keep my eyes mostly on her face, but despite my lack of dedication traditionally masculine sports like bloodshed and animal-slaughter (here’s looking at you, twin brother), I am certainly able to appreciate her trim figure. She is quite my opposite, and I find myself nearly blushing as she compliments my horns.
“Thank you,” I say, adding quickly that “They are a gift from the Desert, for joining the army,” lest she think that I was born with them. I wonder if perhaps Pomona was born with her wings, and what a surprise they must have been to her dam if she was.
I wait a moment to see if Pomana will jump in to answer Illusen’s question about different lands, but when she does not I decide to take the roles.
“There are lots of lands here, yes.” I say, nodding my pale head. “There are eight kingdoms and each has a few herd lands under its protection.” I could leave it at that, but I feel that perhaps I should be more impressive, and that perhaps being so will make her like me more. It is certainly an odd sensation, but I give in quickly.
“I serve the Desert, the light mythic kingdom, but I also live in the Orange Country, one of the herd lands near the Desert. I’d love to show them to you, if you’d be interested. You’re even welcome to make them your home as well, if you’d like.” I remember my mother telling me that it is sometimes best to stay silent, but clearly I have not taken her advice today.
Well I've been saved by the grace of southern charm, I got a mouth like a sailor and yours is more like a Hallmark card
She smiled at him as he spoke, dark eyes twinkling merrily as he spoke of the Deserts. She enjoyed the sand and heat, the place she'd been born had had such things. If there were eight kingdoms and each had separate herd lands this place must be much bigger than she thought. Orange Country, it sounded exotic and beautiful and like a place she'd very much like to visit. Delicate hooves shift beneath her curvaceous body, delicate muzzle extending towards the much larger man in a quizzical manner. For some reason she very much wanted to touch him and have him touch her, it wasn't something she'd experienced before but she kind of liked the feeling.
You must be a great asset to their army for them to gift you with such things. Although I'm sure your size is also an asset to you and the Deserts. You look so strong and intimidating, though to me you have been nothing more than the most gentlemanly of men I have ever met.
Stepping forward a little bit more, she looked up into his face, her lush curves looking almost comically dainty next to his bulk. For the first time in a long time, the faerie felt safe, perhaps it was something to do with his gentlemanly treatment of her or perhaps his sheer size made her feel safe. Illusen didn't know what made her feel that way, only that she did. Turning to Pomona with an apologetic smile, she spoke to the radiantly winged mare.
Thank you for your offer of help, Pomona. And it was a great pleasure to make your acquaintance, but I think I shall be exploring the Deserts and more specifically Orange Country with Kreios.
She smiled her radiant smile up at the red and white man, the laughter dancing in her eyes as she bumped his shoulder with her dainty nose.
Shall we go home then? I can't think of anywhere else I would rather go than with you to Orange Country.
Mare 4 Hispano-Arabe 15.3 hands Gray (bay roan based)(Ee/Aa/Rr/Gg) No King, home or young Sael
Well I'll keep drinkin' and you'll keep gettin' skinnier, I'm just like you, only prettier
kreios don't you tame your demons, but always keep them on a leash
A week ago I might have shied away, but I extend my muzzle without hesitation. She feels like a cloud too, is the first thought that comes to mind, and I pull away with a shy smile.
Illusen talks of the army and how I must be an asset to them, and I wonder how best to tell her that I have not the least amount of battle experience. Part of it is my own choice, but it is mostly a result of the peace that currently spreads across Beqanna. There is no need for bloodshed and no call for war. As I planned the beginning of my own herd however, it’s occurred to me that that I might have to fight to defend them. I would need to other reason, I realize as Illusen steps a little closer – of course I would fight to defend her, and Nymeria too.
She speaks to Pomona, thanking the brightly-winged mare for her help, and glance toward the west, where my home is. When she looks back at me though, I turn quickly, looking down at her beside me with a broad smile. “Of course,” I reply, “Whatever you would like.” It’s true, I realize. How strange. “Goodbye.” I tell Pomona quickly, and then bump my shoulder very gently against Illusen.
“It’s this way,” I say, stepping forward to start the trip to the Orange Country. I am surethat she will walk beside me, so I continue, and we make our way through the common lands, and then along the path that leads through Misty Rapids. As we walk along the ever shrinking creek, the land around us begins to rise, until it is clear that we are in the orange canyons that some say give my herd land its name. As we round the final bend though, the lush scent of ripe citrus reaches my nose, and I know we have arrived. This is why I think it is called Orange Country.
Though the river is dry, there remains a deep pool against the canyon wall that waters our oasis. It is not enormous – no more than five acres – but I find it flawless. “What do you think?” I ask, turning to Illusen at my side. I can recall Nymeria’s first reaction with perfect clarity, and hope that the cloud mare beside me will be just as appreciative.
