"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
He had been right about the warmth that blanketed the land. So harp and sulfuric that Wreath cannot help but wrinkle her red snout at it's first breath but it reassured her that she as on a successful trail.
The brilliant red and pristine white of her coat was not the very best camouflage but the woman had decided to take the mottled buckskin man up on his offer and see his home. And we so far? It was rather overpowering but Wreath presses forward with a genuinely happy expression. It would be rather nice to call a place home once and for all.
"Hello?" The tones are high and feminine as the splotched mare calls out. It would be rude to just imply walk up into someone's home without much thought or care (and you only get a first impression once). Lobes prick upward as she weeds out the sounds, focusing on a reply or presence to greet her own.
The sulphur had not been a pleasant scent at first and Magnus would be lying to say his own nose had not wrinkled the first time it had hit him. The bite in the air had been unpleasant, foreign, sharp, but it had mellowed with time, the golden stallion growing more accustomed to the unique nature of their home. It was worth it, he thought, to be gifted with such a lush landscape, the vegetation rich and salty breeze often doing wonders to push the worst of the scent away. Tephra was, in its own way, a paradise for them.
Still, he anticipated that newcomers would not love it right away and when he watched the brightly colored mare walk into the land and watched her nose wrinkle in distaste, he could not help but laugh. The sound was warm and seeing as he was not far from her, it was likely she heard as he was not far when she called out. “Hello, Wreath!” he greeted as he made his way toward her, the warm breeze shifting his inky mane to the other side of his thickly muscled neck. “It is such a pleasure to see you here.”
In truth, it was. He had not anticipated her taking him up on his offer, not with others on the table, but it always warmed his heart to know that there were those interested in making Tephra their own home. He may be leader of this land, but he did not view himself a King; he was more shepherd than anything, and he knew the best way to protect his flock was to continue to bring new blood into the land. As he came to a stop, a kind glint in his eye, he gestured around them. “This is Tephra.” He glanced back toward her and winked. “I promise that the scent becomes easier with time.” And, as if just for him, the wind picked up, shifting the bitter scent of sulphur away and instead bringing in the salt and brine of the nearby ocean.
The sound of his laugh absolutely startles her and the bright red of her tail go flying high as she lets out an 'oh!' before her name reaches her in the familiar tone of golden man. Dark eyes soon find him, dappled and glowing and the slide of her smile glides effortlessly over her lips as she too begins to laugh. "So glad to see you again, Magnus!" The mare would be glowing or blushing if she were able to do so again but the Reckoning had solved that minor embarrassment.
Lobes prick forward once she has quieted herself. He talks of Tephra, and thankfully, making a note of pointing out the sulfur. Relief washes over her features as she is not the only one who was affected. Magnus seemed to ease her, relax the stiffness of starting a new life in a new place. "Tephra is lovely, Magnus." Her words are light, almost breathless as her attention flicks away to look over the lush green and embracing the sulfur as much as possible. She knew in time, it would fail to even bother her.
Wreath does not know the tawny stallion is the leader, king, what ever you may call him. All she knows is that he is kind to her. Wreath looks back to the male with a smile still flitting across her lips playfully. "Are there others here? The question is genuine as she had yet crossed paths with many horses in her life, let alone here. The humid atmosphere warms her red and white coat gloriously. She enjoyed the cold but only in small visits as her coat never truly grew shaggy. Honeycomb hinted pools move over Magnus in a glimpse. Perhaps she is a 'glass is half full' kind of mare but so far the stallion had shown nothing but kindness and honest interest in her.
She also allows herself to truly glance at his build, read the braille of his scars and know that he is strong. Perhaps it is cliché but the young woman wants to live in a place she feels protected, to feel safe. Curiosity lights up her eyes as she listens to chatter of strange birds and the sounds of unseen creatures. Tephra was truly a magnificent place.
At her startled exclamation, his face falls slightly, his smile bashful. “I apologize, Wreath,” he dipped his head, the sun-bleached tips of his forelock washing over his eyes. “I didn’t mean to frighten you! I was just remembering the first time I smelled the air here.” One corner of his scarred mouth rose into a crooked smile as he listened attentively, his ears pointed in her direction, gold-flecked eyes kind.
At her compliment, his features brighten and he glances around them, heart swelling with pride in his chest. This was not any of the homes he had loved in a past life. It was not the wild of the Jungle, secrecy of the Chamber, peace of the Gates, or redemption of the Dale—it was something different entirely. It was hope in second chances, it was something he had helped carve from nothing. It was a gift from Beqanna.
“Thank you, that is very kind of you to say. I think it is rather special myself.”
He glanced around before bringing his gaze back to her. “We are lucky to have a good number of horses who call Tephra home.” Maybe not as many as some, but larger than others. “Many come and go, but I am sure you will cross paths with them if you choose to stay.” He thought of all of those who resided here. Those, like Lucrezia, who wanted purpose. Those like Eira who were raising a family. Those like Offspring who simply wanted a place to be at peace. It was his responsibility to provide that for them.
“Would you like to see around, Wreath?” He took a small step forward and then paused, ever the gentleman. “There is a lot to see, but I promise you that the journey is worth it for the view alone.”
She is a shy girl, bashful and pure as the day is long. She can only comprehend his words with a playful smile and dashing glances. Wreath was a young mare without much interaction with anyone that wasn't her mother. Lobes are actively attuned to the golden male and the words the came from his lips. Dark eyes notice the mar of his mouth but she thinks it adds to his character. Scars often tell the stories of times passed, whether intentional or not.
Wreath, in all her red and white glory, is practically glittering in her excitement for Tephra. When he asks to see her new home, she nods eagerly with bright eyes before noticing her foolishness and reins herself back. "Oh, uh, yes please." She speaks after taking a deep inhale and exhale of air, already the acridness in the air is less noticeable. Wreath quietly scolds herself for the overexcitement and quietly waits for Magnus to lead her on.
Innocence had long since fled from Magnus, although he had never truly laid claim to it. At one point, he may have been pure, but in a far different way than her. She was pure as fallen snow, untouched beaches—she was the wind and the lakes, forever and eternal in her purity. His had been wild, forged in the vine and humidity of the jungle where he was raised. He had been half-feral in his youth, pure in instinct and drive as he raced amongst the twisting roots of the trees. He had lived among the warrior women and been pure in his reckless nature. He—he had been pure like raging rivers and soaring mountains.
He had been pure like the volcano that spat smoke and warnings into the air above them.
But he appreciated, even envied, her her innocence and like all things of her cloth, his heart ached to protect it. So at her visible excitement, the way she practically shimmered with her eagerness, his smile deepened, still crooked but genuine in pleasure. “I would love nothing more than to show you.”
Taking a step forward, his muzzle touched her neck gently, before beginning to lead the way. Their land was different from the rest. So much of the new Beqanna was shadowed with great trees, but Tephra was largely unmarked by their shadow. Instead it was shadowed by the majestic rise of the volcano. It was lush, covered in thick green vegetation and seemingly endless underneath the impossible blue of the sky.
It was not for everyone, but it was for him.
“So how have you been?” he inquired, curious about the mare by his side as he began to walk her further inland. “Not everyone has fared well after the Reckoning.” He could only hope she had not suffered.
out of the blue out into the loneliest place that you'll ever know I carried the world just as far as I could but the damage had taken its toll
His words, his eyes, the crooked little smile that tugs at his lips. Despite the marks upon his flesh from times passed, Magnus exudes a boyish charm that Wreath can not help but collapse into. She is a gentle, sheltered creature that had yet ever venture far from the last place she and her mother had been some years ago till now..till the golden man found her lost and wandering in the field.
Delight brightens her features when Magnus agrees to be her escort through Tephra, to help ease this transition. If she still possessed her abilities, she would have been a rosy pink all over from the shyness that threatened to engulf her. Wreath takes his side with bated breath but it is the lightest touch that steals her breath.
She's heady and smiling like a girl drunk of cheap wine coolers. Magnus does not realize what he is doing but for virgin mare, he is quite overwhelming. Lobes finally catch his words after she forces herself to run the syllables through her head to fully understand what he said.
(Silly girl)
"Oh," she flutters the small word as he mentions the Reckoning, her gaze shifting downward to watch as their hooves moved almost in sync, "I did lose something...though it was a small thing." The green of her eyes lift to meet ehr companion's with a gentle gaze. "I am...was able to change colors." A fleeting smile touches her lips, lifts them, then drops away. Wreath is lost for a few moments before she perks up once again "And you? Have you lost anything?" Large eyes peer brightly from beneath the red forelock, more than happy to move the topic from her own loss.
Besides, she had been lost and was now found.
And perhaps, in time, she will be whole again in one way or another.
She is beautiful and naive as the innocent often are and Magnus is drawn to protect her, to pull her beneath his proverbial wing and shield her from the world. He is glad that she had chosen to follow him home to Tephra and as they wander around the island together, the feeling only grows. The world after the reckoning was not always kind; it was dark and full of secrets no one had deciphered yet. It was not the kind of place for the innocent to wander around on their own. It wasn’t kind to the lost.
He doesn’t voice those concerns though or even elude to them. Instead he just continues to walk along her side, listening attentively when she discusses the things that she had lost. At the mention of the magic that had bled from her, he is at first delighted and then saddened for her. How terrible to have lost something so integral to who you are; how awful to have been able to control such beauty and to no longer.
“I am terribly sorry to hear that,” he says genuinely, although he quickly follows it up, “but I am sure that you were something to behold. I am certain you will be again soon.” He had heard whisperings along the wind of magic that had seeped back into Beqanna. For those regaining those bits and pieces of themselves he imagined that he felt like oxygen pooling back into their lungs. A thin veil being lifted so that they could once again see Beqanna for all that it was and could be again. Not that he would know for certain.
At her question, he shakes his head lightly. “Ah, no. I have had no such gifts.” For a time, he bore the weight of eagle wings, but they were gifts from Heaven; while he had eventually gotten used to them and even come to appreciate their power, they were always slightly awkward, always slightly wrong. He had not been particularly upset when he had woken up and found them stripped from him. They were never his in the first place. “I don’t mind though. It is the way that I have always been.”
out of the blue out into the loneliest place that you'll ever know I carried the world just as far as I could but the damage had taken its toll
![[Image: gqYjsHr.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/KjqNDKxc/gqYjsHr.png)
