anyone;

[Nayl]

She spun the stars on her fingernails Nayl has been biding her time coming to the island. From the mainland she watched as the day went by, the sun replaced by the moon then back again. She watched as the pregnant tides destroyed a path only to ebb and recover it again half a day later. Without wings Nayl is forced to wait and to decipher the currents until they deemed permissible. Often, she would disappear to eat before taking her place on shore again to watch and wait. It's midday when the tide recedes and reveals the hidden sandbars just enough for passage. Moving quickly, Nayl trots along the damp sand with an occasional splash through a small pool of sea water. Her autumn eyes are tunneling on the island miles ahead with its palm trees towering over the beach. Such a secluded land would on one side be desirable, but simultaneously difficult when trying to attract more numbers (unless they keep themselves as elitist flyers and shifters). Grounded, Nayl has no other option than to navigate the sandbars when available, but they come to a gradual end as the water begins to deepen farther out. Wary of the current (and the massive expansive of endless water to her right) she continues forward even as the ground gives way and forces her to swim. Eventually, Nayl arrives. Her body is soaked, her muscles slightly tired from the brief swim fighting the waves. Multiple snorts try to clear the salt water from her nostrils while acclimating herself to the surroundings. This is almost a world of its own, apart from Beqanna. It stands alone, secluded, and she can’t help but wonder who takes refuge in such a place. Looking ahead, she manages to call for someone – anyone – while trying to recover from the unexpected and tiresome venture. Nayl covet and myrina's creation

[Djinni]

Djinni has watched the pied queen as she in turn watches the sea.

It had not taken long for her to discern Nayl's purpose in doing so, but the mousy mare has never been inclined to be thoughtlessly benevolent. She waits long enough for the tobiano to have crossed the sandbars and the sea, and then appears beside the bedraggled looking mare in a puff of golden sand, looking refreshed and relaxed.

"Perhaps you should ask for help next time," she says with a twist of her dark lips, looking out at the deep jungle rather than meeting Nayl's gaze. "We could have gotten here much faster. Though I suppose we should be used to swimming, shouldn't we?" At that she does look back over her shoulder, the smirk being replaced by an amused smile.

[Ashley]

Ashley has been swimming; again.

That crimson tail of his is just disappearing as he makes the bank on the south coast, and once upon the sandy shores, makes his patrols of the island. He is dripping wet, but his muscles ripple in the light. He is svelte and athletic—taut red flesh stretched over lean muscle. A man who lives half of his life in the water, he feels like a prisoner to the gravity that chains him to the ground here. He has not yet had the ability to regrow his wings, but he is pleased with the day’s swim. Ashley is looking at the ground, moving at a full trot with his eyes on the sand as he moves, concentrating on breathing his exhale. His nostrils flare—the salt burned the inside of his nose and he is distracted—and he tosses his head, as if sneezing.

Water spews outwards as he comes across the pair of women—again, unbeknownst to the ginger man—and he walks pass them, not having heard the genie speaking to her Queen. Ischia is an island that is treacherous for those without wings, and so the onset of visitors is rare—indeed has happened barely a handful of times since the Island’s beginning. And so, when Ashley basically sneezes on the two women, unaware of their existence, he tosses his head again—salt discomfort from his nose finally sated—and looks up… and if at all possible, the red man, turns even redder. He says nothing… Because this is not his usual composure.

What do you even say?

Nothing. You say nothing.

ashley

I walked the path, it led me to the end.

[Nayl]

She spun the stars on her fingernails Drenched, but fortunately still warm, Nayl observes the island. Her autumn eyes drink in the tropical scenery before looking back across her shoulder to see if Djinni followed and fought the currents. There is a moment when they stare at each other from different shores, at least a mile apart, but neither of them move. The sand is familiar and wraps around Nayl’s hooves like a glove. It eases her stirring mind and settles her throbbing muscles. She is content basking in the familiar sunshine while mustering her remaining strength and waiting for Djinni’s arrival. What she thought would take minutes took only seconds. In a flurry of sand the genie is at her side. An immediate frown creases her pretty face as she gives a sideways glance to her friend. ”Again, you suck.” Despite the ice in her voice there is a bemused smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. ”I’ll remember to ask for a piggyback ride next time.” It would make traveling so much easier if she had adequate tools, but alas, her abilities are nothing physical or accommodating for her days-long ventures. Perhaps one day. Their time alone is short-lived as a stallion emerges from the water (much like her moments prior) dripping wet. The sun gleams off his coat, his muscles vividly rippling underneath. Silently, Nayl scrutinizes him and prepares for a typical greeting, but she finds herself in a moment of awkward quiet. He approaches, but rather blindly as he tries desperately to expel the saltwater from his nostrils. Her brows furrow and her head jerks upward as he heavily snorts at them. Water sprinkles across her face and dribbles down toward her muzzle. ”Um…” uncertainty swallows her words until she asks, ”is sneezing on strangers customary here?” She can’t help but wonder what new practices are being forged in this new world. Nayl covet and myrina's creation

[Ashley]

She was beautiful..

That was the first thought that crossed his mind when he pulled back from them both, his amber eyes darting over the multi-colored lady. Her words were staccato, as they would be if someone sneezed on you. He grunts, making a dramatic show of backing up two full lengths, before shaking himself dry. His blessed blood pushed to the fore and he stretched out his back, before sprouting a pair of ginger-colored wings almost instantly. He shifts, finding his grace once more, before making those same two dramatic lengths forward, and nods to the ladies in question. It was usually something for him to look at someone and know their names, but for some reason, this multi-colored lady with the perfect face—she was like a stone wall to him. He raises his handsome head to get a better view of her, flicking his tail behind him. His ears pricked at the other, who was as an open book to him—but as to the first, all he could get was her name. And that had come from her friend’s mind, rather than her own.

“Welcome to Ischia. I am Ashley. And no, it is not customary for sneezing to become a form of greeting. I do hope you can forgive me on that front. Visitors are so rare here. The path that slides off the mainland is eroding… making the trek dangerous if you don’t have wings—or magic.”

The sun was nearing its peak for the day, and under the warmth of the day, the sand was heating up past what was tolerable for his feet, so his ears turn toward the interior of the island. Anywhere that would provide shade. This one, the stranger—she seemed as poised as they came. And he was curious to learn more, just as he was curious to find out why they were on his island. He says as much to them.

“The sun is high, and the temperature is increasing. Why don’t we get off the beaches and you can tell me how you came to be here, and more importantly, why you are here.”

ashley

I walked the path, it led me to the end.

OOC: Sorry I skipped you Khazie. I saw Aeris posted and got all musey. I'll wait next time, promise

[Ea]

now you're staring at a queen.

It’s quiet; she knows. It’s a different quiet from the Dale, though -- the Dale had always had a strong presence, which was usually enough to fend off any who wanted to take over the kingdom, but Ischia had no reputation. Although Ea knew how strong they all were, they were truthfully still reeling from the destruction of their old Beqanna. Some mourned their old lives longer than others. Ea seemed to take the longest, though she tried to keep her mourning to herself, to not make it so obvious to the residents that their leader was a bit distracted.

She is making her way through the forest, exploring by herself, when she sees a group of three coming from the beach. She recognizes Ashley immediately, of course, but not the other two mares -- two similar-looking smoky pintos. Only one of them is soaked from the swim to the island.

Ea approaches them -- Scorch taught her that queens (or leaders, now, though she preferred to be called queen) should always approach and greet newcomers, whether they were visitors or someone planning to stay. The silver mare exudes confidence with every step; not an obnoxious, in-your-face confidence but more quiet and subtle. She stops in front of them with a soft smile. “Hello, I’m Ea,” she says, looking first to Ashley, then between the two mares. “Always good to see you, Ashley. Welcome to Ischia. What can we do for you?”

[Djinni]

Raising her brows, Djinni tosses her head in the manner of a girl who teases 'what're you gonna do about it', as Nayl snips at her. She knows that the pied mare is no more serious than she is, but the playful nature of thier interaction ends (at least on Djinni's end) as soon as the stallion emerges from the sea.

He does not seem to see them, and Djinni watches - her sea green eyes a little narrowed - as he all but sneezes on them. Nayl says what she is thinking - perhaps a but more acerbically. The stallion seems properly chastised, backing away, but then he sprouts wings and comes forward once more, and Djinni takes a single step back to stand more equally beside Nayl. She doubts that the stallion means them any harm and is even more sure that Nayl can take care of herself, but there is far less risk of bodily injury when one simply isn't there to be attacked rather than dodging a blow.

The sudden appearance of wings makes her pause, and she breifly considers sporting a pair of her own, and decides against it. She has never wished her mind an open book and so it is not. Still, there is something uncomfortably probing about the red stallion - something that confirms her suspicions of magic - and so she explicitly wishes herself safe inside her own mind, the way that she knows Nayl is. With it, she wishes him to forget whatever it is he might have learned without her explicit permission. He'll still have Nayl's name, since Djinni had said it aloud, but the rest of her secrets are as safe as they have always been.

"I'm Djinni." The tobiano grullo replies, "And this is Queen Nayl of Nerine." There is more she could say but does not, and when he invites them to venture farther onto the island she looks to the piebald queen for conformation. This is her party, after all, Djinni is only tagging along. As she turns, she catches sight of another approaching figure, this one female with a rather lovely coat. Djinni is - as she often is - tempted to change herself to match - but she refrains, instead only nodding her head in greeting and saying, "I'm Djinni.

ooc: i posted this then saw ea had replied. my b!

[Nayl]

She spun the stars on her fingernails The way he sheepishly ambles backwards elicits an amused grin to slip coolly across her lips. Nayl’s face is damp, but that’s more due to her tiresome swim than his snort. Although she is able to find humor in the situation, her expression remains generally stoic; her eyes, however, are alive, burning, with curiosity. ”Ashley,” she nods her head in recognition as his name tingles the very tip of her tongue. His presence wraps around her and tendrils of him almost seem to creep into her mind only to be met by her fortifications, blocking him from prying further. The tickling of his attempts gratifies her as she lavishes in the protection of her thoughts, but she says nothing of it to him. Their gaze meets silently and a brow merely quirks, but nothing more. ”An eroding path makes for a nice, secured home, no?” Visitors are rare, he admits, and she glances back across her shoulder to observe the ocean that she just traversed. ”It’s quite tiresome swimming the distance,” her breath is still heavy as she continues her recovery. Tired, she hardly moves. It’s actually tempting to lie down, but Nayl holds herself steadily knowing well that she has to represent Nerine as best she can. Their group of three is prepared to venture inland where the shade tempts them with a gentle gale. Nayl looks on hopefully, but takes pause when hearing Djinni introduce them both with the appearance of another female. Ashley, having been apologetic and more open, is shadowed by the mare’s presence. Confident, but not overly-so, as she steps forward into their small group and observes them with calculating eyes. Ea, she calls herself, and Nayl responds with an acknowledging nod while her name hangs nimbly in the air among them, tied with Djinni’s voice. ”We are from Nerine,” she adds simply with a lopsided grin, ”far west of here, but on the mainland.” It had been a long trek here, she muses, but with her recent ventures to other lands her fitness has certainly increased, not that it was any way poor beforehand. ”Shall we take to the shade as Ashley had offered?” She didn’t want to entirely immerse herself in their home or lose sight of the coast. She idly slips past and takes refuge beneath the first row of trees that greets her. The sun’s warm hands slink away from her skin once underneath the palms, providing a wave of relief as she looks to their small congregation. ”We are just making rounds to these new lands to see what lies outside of our home. I wanted to see who survived the reconstruction of Beqanna and how they’ve managed so far,” she wants to weigh out friends and foes, calculate how her home is thriving in comparison to others, how best she can bring Nerine to greatness. Nayl covet and myrina's creation