"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 meeting is adjourned and now the mass of them are returning to their lives. Nothing has changed; their daily lives remain untouched with the exception of who they perceive as their Queen. From a rocky ledge Nayl watches quietly as they roam the miles of sandy beaches and cliffs. They familiarize themselves with this terrain and the expanse of untouched grass and hills. In the months where she has been almost entirely alone Nayl had bathed in the scents and sights of Nerine. While she had often taken trips to the forest, she still always spent a great deal of time mapping out the landscape here.
That could be how she finds Simeon so easily. His scent and how it carries restlessly on the wind is enough indication of his whereabouts. Nayl, ever vigilant, inclines her head and drinks in the familiarity of him and the salt water that he has since been baptized in while here in Nerine. While they are hardly acquaintances she cannot help but yearn for his company and to sate her curiosity of him. He has treasures and truths locked inside him that she wants to badly to learn and release.
She knows that he is much closer to Naga as well.
And so, she arrives from behind him with her eyes staring icily at the back of his head. ”Simeon,” she tastes his name curiously with half the expectation to quiver with joy at another male nearby, but her mind is still wrapping around what he could know that she doesn’t quite find herself drawn to him. ”A lovely day, no?” With muted footsteps she takes her place at his side with her gaze slipping to the ocean in front of them. She holds herself with pride and dignity, a smug grin lopsidedly tugging her lips. ”I know so little of you,” a slow breath is held in her lungs before casually exhaling into the warm, summer air, ”tell me about yourself.”
12-22-2016, 03:33 AM (This post was last modified: 12-22-2016, 03:41 AM by Simeon.)
as the winds blow, so will I know...
He'd gone off after the meeting, preferring silence to company to mull things over. Make no mistake, he has no qualms with the change in leadership, despite his loyalty to Naga. The panther woman was family- always would be- and for Simeon, family is a big deal not to be easily set aside or downcast. However, unfortunately, Naga had not been completely accepted as queen, and she hadn't been able to prove herself to the stubborn powerful women of Nerine. He believes she may yet be able to rise once more, learn from her mistakes, come back stronger. She just might get another chance again, in the future. Simply, her time is not now. He is a little surprised and disappointed she had given up the crown so easily, but perhaps she had come to realize she wasn't ready. She had tried to be a friend first and a leader second, trying to please everyone. Sim understood this, being guilty of just such attempts. But it wasn't possible. And in a group of strong-willed, hard-headed women, pacifism was obviously not the way to go. He has faith in Naga, though, and the world is full of possibilities. For now, someone had to make a change here, and he believes Nayl to be worthy of just such a feat.
He followed what was becoming his daily ritual, roaming the entire land at a steady pace- an easy lope as he located his paths that carried him swiftly around so that he was able to see every corner and catch every scent. He did his best thinking while moving, and patrolling this way allowed him to maintain his athleticism. Even better, it helped stave off the restless tics he got from time to time, urging him to wander and roam. The coast has grown on him greatly, and he truly cannot imagine living anywhere else.
Completing his rounds at the shoreline was his greatest reward, enjoying the mists from the waves against rocks combined with the sea breeze gently caressing his face and toying with ebon locks. A light sheen of sweat covered him, giving his bay roan pelt a healthy gloss under the warmth of the sun. His gaze seeks out over the water, but his mind continues to travel. The new queen, with her contrasting coat and soft curves. Her bright amber eyes blazing in a refined face with sharp edges. Fierce and full of promise. One thing she had promised. He- and a few select others- would be allowed to stay. There seemed to be a catch when she had stated to the others, and he knew she would come to seek him out. He wondered what she would ask of him, what purpose she may require.
Fortunately, he didn't have long to wait. Her scent hits him first, a bittersweet fragrance that was hers and hers alone. Such intrigue she pulled from him, and his heart softly quickens as she approaches him from behind, his name passing through her lips. Such natural power this mare holds in her grasp, ensnaring the attention from whom she speaks. The same easy smile tugs the edges of his lips as he turns mismatched eyes to greet her. "Nayl, my Queen. It is a lovely day. Better now that you have joined me." Calm, smooth, full of truth. He doesn't necessarily mean it flirtatiously, although if she were to take it that way, he wouldn't deny her. Still, he is always the gentleman, keeping his gaze to her face as she so gracefully comes to stand beside him. Ah, but the crown does suit her, and she wears it well. As though she is made for it, and maybe she is.
Eyes capture the play of a grin crossing her lips, but then he forces them out to the ocean as she speaks. Unable to control it, his heart does that curious jumping again as she asks to know more about him. A soft chuckle escapes him, and he nods. "I suppose you're right. The same could go for you as well." It pleases him that she would be curious about him, and he wonders how much to tell her. Wonders how much she wishes to know. Of course the queen would seek to know her subjects, for a multitude of reasons. Know your people and you will know also yourself, a wise man once told him on his journeys. "What is it you wish to know?" Pondering for a moment, he decides to start with the basics. "I was born in the Jungle, raised there by my mother, Scorch. My father was Hestoni, riposino in pace, though I didn't meet him until I was grown. Did you know them?" His eyes glint with a touch of sadness at the mention of their names, but he shoves it aside as he returns his gaze to Nayl, genuinely curious to her answer.
as the grasses grow, so will I go…
as far as the skies will take me nothing can break me…
as the winds blow
They’re looking to her for promise, for hope. They want her to prosper and to bring their home to a peak of power. They, like her, want greatness.
Nayl didn’t miss the glance they shot to each other. The stallions betrayed their hesitance by looking at one another when she had admitted they have a purpose. They fear the worst, but she isn’t the menace that they expect. She isn’t as cruel as they assumed her to be, but she will admit to being stern. Unlike Naga - unlike many previous Queens – Nayl is stern and she will be an austere ruler. She will allow stallions to roam, but very few and they will be hers (only hers).
Simeon likely expected her for this reason. He knows that he will serve somehow, but no one is certain of the details. No one can even delve into her mind and thumb through her thoughts and ideas. They were left wondering when she dismissed herself from the group.
And so, she quietly takes her place at his side with her fiery eyes trained on the ocean in front of them. His name tingles the tip of her tongue and she takes note of the easy grin that slips across his lips when she speaks. My Queen, he says, and she cannot deny the thrill that electrifies her body. The power – the crown – is finally hers, and he respects that. He welcomes her to his silent musings and compliments the day with a languid statement that lures Nayl to look at him. She doesn’t respond, not yet, but she half-heartedly chuckles beneath his searching eyes.
But there is a pause before he answers her and speaks briefly of himself, of what he is and where he is from. Nayl closely listens, but her curiosity peaks when he mentions Scorch. Her heart leaps and suppressed memories suddenly rush back. Nayl truly smiles then and her eyes soften in a most unfamiliar way. ”Scorch,” she tastes the mare’s name with adoration while quickly disregarding Hestoni (she never knew the stallion although she has heard the name in the whispers of the wind back in the Jungle). ”I knew Scorch,” she finally adds with a roll of her muscular shoulders, ”she was my aunt.”
