"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
10-03-2016, 06:20 PM (This post was last modified: 10-03-2016, 06:20 PM by Stillwater.)
Stillwater
He'd been there. As she took control of the land, he'd been there, her rich black body taking command of her people. As her followers trickled in, faithful creatures of battle and heart, he'd watched in silence. As they fed from the land, lapped at her waters, every one of them... He was there for it all.
And as he was aware of her movements, she knew of his, too. She knew his dwelling of darkness, knew the hours he kept himself locked within, his blissful solitude. She knew when he fed, in the cover of darkness while the world slept. They'd never met, but they knew each other as one knows the false friend smiling in the face of each other's sweet lies.
Soon, she would come. Her people were amassing, needing her shelter and protection, and she knew the threat he could pose them. As she toiled to make this land a home, they'd lived side by side, in their separate parts of the world. And so, soon she would come, and lay down the laws and boundaries, rules that would bind him to her whims. Tighten his leash as she saw fit. A secret monster in her pocket.
He began leaving his cavern earlier, at dusk instead of twilight. His figure would haunt the hill. Watching. Waiting. Melting into the creeping darkness as night would arrive, and keeping silent vigil. He'd stand there for hours, unmoving, cool gaze peering into the distance. And then he'd return to his home, just before dawn, locking himself within before the tide would rise and hide his doorway beneath the sea.
For days, he did this. But tonight was different, tonight she would appear. He could feel the tension in the air, pulling tight and threatening to snap. He heard the whispers of the night spirits: she comes. you better run. she comes, she comes. But he would not run. Without an exchange of words or ever meeting, they'd sealed a silent contract of peace with one another. She would not harm him, he put an odd heart of faith in that. There was no spoken promise of such a truce, but he felt it was there nonetheless.
She would come, stake down his fence posts, trap him in his little corner of the world. And then she would leave, and they'd ignore each other's presence once again. As they had for so long already. It was only to keep him in line that she came. And he would let her, for now.
He stood on the same hill, in the same silence. And waited.
@[Naga]
come down to the black sea swimming with me go down with me, fall with me, lets make it worth it
Just after twilight, the sun already hiding it's rays behind the horizon. The mist began settling along the coastline, and the salty waters hissed up on the shore only to slide back into the ocean. The night had come, though the midsummer in Nerine had not failed to still stay somewhat warm once sun dipped behind the "end of the earth". Our dark woman walks slowly, her hooves pressing deeply into the warm wet sand, leaving hoof prints behind that are quickly stolen away by the ever swaying ocean. She is beginning to get into the swing of her new title, though she did not take advantage of it. Not like some before her.
She understood that it would take a while for the women who followed her here that day from the mountains did not trust her much. Some rolled their eyes at her, some disregarded her completely, some questioned her. She knew not all of them would like her, but she at least wanted a bit of respect, to be liked, and most of all, trusted. But, it would take time, and effort, and she was willing to give all of it.
Though now, she had to deal with something the other queens did not....not for centuries before her time. Beqanna was new, the lands were new, the KINGDOMS were new. She needed to sculpt this new sisterhood kingdom, traditions and rules of the past that were linked to the Jungle were gone now. It was up to her to guide her kingdom in a new direction, a new, progressive sisterhood. Not all their residents would be women now, though still a female dominant kingdom. She had invited Simeon to come, and she knew he would eventually, but the other was one she did not know...but knew he was there. He had been there all along...
Our dark woman noticed the black stallion during her evening walks, usually just before dusk. She knew not of his intentions, she did not even know his name, but she watched him occasionally, perched up on her favorite rock. She would watch him slink out from within his cave dwelling in the cliffs, and make his way to grave above the rocky cliff side. Tonight, she was to investigate. She needed to know what his plans were. She sure as hell was not going to step aside to let a stallion take over her sisters. Though the strong minded sisters would not allow it to happen away, it was better to be safe than sorry.
She pressed on, faster pace now, her rump swinging from side to side as she trotted up the rocky hillside. Though he was usually out earlier than now, Naga noticed he was not out early as usual. So as she reached the ridge, she spotted him, a dark form grazing alone. She straightened her posture, striding slowly and elegantly toward him. She exuded grace and maturity, a big change from herself when she first came to the sisterhood as a young filly with a bit of a social problem.
She called out to him, low and welcoming, and her silky deep voice hummed out from between black velvet lips.
"Good evening. I know you have seen me plenty of times and know of what I am since my arrival here with the sisters, though I wanted to introduce myself formally. My name is Naga. I have seen you around many times...what is your name?"
She left it short and sweet, learning that too much blabber leaves for plenty of eye rolls and ignoring faces.
Though she hopes he is friendly, living with a grumpy cave dweller would be a bit of an issue with a bunch of strong feminist-like women around. She also wouldn't be too stoked either. Though she was always one to be welcoming and give strangers a chance, even if they seem dark and mysterious.
Here is to hoping for a friendly male addition to the Maiden's kingdom of Nerine.
For days, he'd waited for her, already chained to her schedule. As he should be, admittedly; she was the one in charge, the one who dictates where and when she would appear to her people. Which, unfortunately, included him. Further unfortunate was that he almost seemed the most respectful of her at times, and he'd never had to interact with her before this night. Not all her people were accepting of her rule, and yet they'd followed in her powerful wake by their own choice. Curious thing.
Their lack of reverence to her was further demonstrated when she arrived. His head was bowed to the earth, passively plucking grasses beneath the twinkling night sky though he was not feeling the pangs of hunger, bored with waiting but obedient to her without command. Dark, blue-gray eyes flickered to her, catching her movement as she gathered herself, straightening to the role she must play, then away again. Were they likable subjects, she'd not have to do such a thing. But it wasn't his kingdom, and he certainly didn't want one.
She called to him softly; friendly, polite. That was unexpected. He froze, his eyes locked on her warily, muzzle just above the grasses he'd been reaching for. The night cloaked them, each as rich black as the other. She spoke, introducing herself. He'd known her, not by name but by her status and the blood she'd mixed in the soil as she worked to build this kingdom of hers. Perhaps her subjects had not seen her determination and struggle as he had, as she slipped on that regal mask of hers and became the Queen before them instead of the slave that made this place what it was.
She was kind. Soft. Inviting. The courteous way in which she spoke to him teased at his mind. Did she not know the manner of the beast? He raised his head and studied her. She gave her name as she continued speaking, and requested his in return. Customs of language. Dreary things, but required of a ruler. But not required of him.
He let the silence grow between them, his dark gaze unreadable. He needed to proceed carefully, or end up weaving his own noose.
Distinguished elegance, and deadly grace hovered about her like an aura felt by all. The predator within her gave her more power and strength than perhaps she realized. She could be vicious somewhere beneath that careful and welcoming exterior, but untrained. Like a kitten with needle-sharp claws, far sharper than an adult's, yet not the experience of the hunt. She would learn in short time, no doubt, and bless the poor souls stupid enough to cross her. He hoped never to be among them.
He reflected briefly on the way she'd pulled the role of Queen upon her shoulders like a skin. Though it was her own skin; did she know that? She was already everything she needed, she only had to use it. Her people that lacked the respect were either too dim to recognize it or too threatened to acknowledge it openly.
Trouble in paradise, princess? he asked blankly, not an ounce of mock or malice tainting his even tone as he addressed his queen.
come down to the black sea swimming with me go down with me, fall with me, lets make it worth it
