"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
It had been a lovely day, a lovely visit to the field. Jason hadn’t expected to meet anyone nearly as unique nor as disheveled as Wichita, but he liked her. She held a million stories inside her (or so Jason assumed), and he believed that she might become an important asset to the Gates.
There was a moment when Jason finished speaking that he was concerned. He was concerned that all the promise he was slowly putting in the mare would become just as fleeting as their brief conversation. He was concerned that he may be rejected. Rejection wasn’t a common feeling for Jason, but there was no perfect way to describe his home or entice others to come to it. Thankfully his insecurities were soon eased with Wichita’s acceptance. He smiled and with a nod of his head spoke, ”You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that.” He briefly turned his head in the direction of his home before looking back to the mare. ”Follow me, we can getcha cleaned up when we get there and then hopefully you can meet some other of my friends.” He spoke of Voudou and Fiasko although he was sure Fiasko would be far more welcoming than his darling Voudou.
Along the way Jason walked smoothly. At times he broke out in a heavy gallop, but for the most part he stuck to a slow gait. He was enjoying his time alongside Wichita, and with travel came the opportunity to learn. ”So what led you here?” He questioned. ”I was born in Beqanna, so it has always been in my blood even though I have ventured out of the area several times.” His head bobbed as he spoke and his eyes stayed focused forward.
05-26-2015, 11:59 AM (This post was last modified: 05-26-2015, 12:01 PM by Wichita.)
Without much hesitation, surprising to herself, Wichita followed alongside the blue gray hued stag. It was a warming feeling, the opportunity before her, what she thought was sure to be a journey that played a very important role in her life. She would be stupid to not accept such an offer, as she was always told as a child "can't never could" .The possibilities of a new life flooded her mind, she allowed a small smile to curve itself on her smoky maw. She was joyous that Jason would be glad to have her with him at his home, the one he seemed so very fond and proud of. It was puzzling her how a complete stranger could be pleased with her company, she wasn't convinced it was something exceptional.
Being confused didn't stop her from enjoying the game of chase on the way to the Gates, because even a blind hog finds an acorn now and then. Accepting her chance of luck, she met each burst of speed with her own. Becoming a blur in the fading light, knowing the expense of energy was like to catch up with her tomorrow, her forearms burned with their exertion. Their pace returned to a kind trot, her lungs filled and disgorged as she reclaimed her breath, and then it happened. The questions they came, as she knew they would, but so soon? She had not taken the time to properly prepare herself for the answers that would follow a query about her past. Her pace slowed further into a dragging walk as she fought with herself inwardly, eyes alight with moisture though she was damned if she would cry. Not now she chided herself.
At first her voice broke, even as she trained her eyes on the horizon, she proceeded on autopilot, "I don't know how herd life is for yall in the Gates."She paused and collected herself breifly, "My father isn't a kind stallion, mares are property to him, we're beneath him. He only wanted us around to meet his needs, and to hurt if we wronged him." she shuddered."He's a cruel creature, and the other mares and momma and me, we did our best not to anger him. When he came for me though, I couldn't, even though momma told me to just do what I needed to do...." she broke off, it hurt to think about what had happened that day. How her mother (who had always done as her father wished and was the least defiant) had stepped into the fight Wichita had started, how she had yelled so loudly for her to run.
And how she had ran, bleeding and disheveled...the whites of her mother's eyes burning fear and shame into her heart all at once.
A pause was held. Jason could sense the momentary hesitation, and he simply kept his pace allowing Wichita to take her time in formulating her response. It was not his intention to allow his curiosity to pry too deep, but some horses held their hand closer to their chest. He understood this need to keep secrets. He, himself, wasn’t exactly an open book. His own past held deep shadows that he didn’t care to share.
The pause broke, and Wichita spoke. Jason listened, and he was briefly taken back when she spoke of mares being property. It was a concept foreign to Jason’s life in Beqanna, but it was something he had encountered during his travels. Wichita continued, and he listened carefully with his gaze drifting to her as they walked. He could feel the tension rise with the broken honesty, and then he suddenly stopped. His hooves stopped beating the earth, and his breathing stopped. Had he just heard her correctly? Surely not- but her appearance supported the claim along with her voice and the honesty she had been forthright with.
”That’s….” He exhaled. ”That’s not okay.” His voice was stern. It felt like a fire was beginning to burn within his throat. He lifted his head, whipping it back as his face tightened almost as if he was preparing to fight. And then all of a sudden he softened. ”I am so so sorry..” He said in a much gentler tone as he approached Wichita. His nose extended forth and he gentle pressed it against her shoulder. ”So so sorry….that will not happen here.” Once he pulled away from her his eyes set forward and he recognized the familiar scent of the Gates. ”We’re here”
05-28-2015, 12:48 PM (This post was last modified: 05-28-2015, 12:55 PM by Fiasko.)
fiasko
It’s a beautiful day in the Gates. The weather is mild for the season, and the thin layer of snow sparkles brightly in the afternoon sun. Fiasko has spent the day in walking distance of the Mother Tree, enjoying the sun while it lasts - she has no doubt the weather will take a darker turn once they are in the middle of winter.
She’s considering walking over to the river, one of her old haunting grounds as a child, when the scents of two horses reaches her nose. One she recognizes instantly - it’s become very familiar to her over the past year - but the other is entirely new. Curious, she decides to track down the source.
It takes her a little while - the snow makes tracking difficult - but she finds them. Her face splits into a crooked grin the minute she spots Jason. She still doesn’t know the stallion terribly well, but she’s come to like the blue-grey stallion. He’s always warm and friendly to her, and clearly cares little about the mutilated state of her face. On top of that, he’s a hard worker and his return to the kingdom has greatly benefited the Gates. Speaking of which …
Jason isn’t alone. At his side stands a pretty young silver dapple mare. A new recruit perhaps? “Hello there, and welcome to the Gates! I’m Fiasko.” Her single eye suddenly focuses on the mare’s coat, and she realizes the state that the newcomer is in. “Are you alright?”
Just as winter turns slowly into spring, so were they emerging from their gentle hibernation. It started quietly enough, with new (and old) members finding their way to the borders, breathing life into the lungs of the slumbering kingdom. New and old alike, the kingdom welcomed them all with open arms. The Gates would cradle them all to her breast, indifferent to their pasts or imperfections and loving them all the same. Mast knew all to well the kindness of this kingdom and her members, and his life would be spent in her debt. He longed to see her thrive, to rise from the proverbial ashes like a golden phoenix of legend. In some way he could feel them beginning to take flight, like baby birds just learning to leave the nest. They would fail of course, but ultimately they would take to the skies.
He loved his kingdom in all seasons, but winter was perhaps his favorite. The snow and ice sparkled on the ground and branches. It was pure and untouched, delicate and strong all at the same time. In a way, it epitomized their kingdom. The gray stallion made his way easily through the kingdom, nodding and smiling at the Mother Tree who waved her icy branches in return. A part of him hated to blemish the snow with his hoof prints. But today, a new scent reaches his nose, and he smiles brightly, turning in the direction the scent had came. It doesn’t take him long to reach the trio of Jason, Fiasko, and the new mare. “Hello, all. Beautiful day is it not?” he said conversationally, coming to a halt at the side of Fiasko. He cocked a hind leg, swinging his tail idly over her fuzzy rump. “And to our newest member, many many welcomes. I’m Mast. It’s a pleasure to have you join us.” he said, smiling brightly. It was just then that he noticed the crestfallen look on her face, and he furrowed his own brow in worry. “I do hope everything is ok.” Concern laced his voice, but he didn’t push the issue. Whatever had happened in her past, she was safe here now. Though they were a kingdom woven of good, they could and would defend anyone who called this place home.
Wichita had taken to looking down at her hooves after she had finished her brief explanation of the state she was in. She was taken aback at the sudden lack of movement from the other as he spoke. Well, she knew it wasn't right or okay, but she did take solace in the fact that she wasn't the only one who thought so.
The pressure from the clouded maw that met her bistre hued shoulder, was received with little protest. She closed her eyes and hung her crown even further, the lump in her throat struggled to release a flood of emotion that she just would not allow. As the modest contact ended, as quickly as it had begun, once more harmony reached her auds. We're here he said simply and matter o factly. Sepia oculars lifted to take in the view, a winter landscape more beautiful than she could express met her gaze. The lands were hushed, peaceful, and inviting.The frost covered grounds and bare branches were oddly exquisite in her eyes, everything seemed fresh, like there was a blank slate to offer all to make something new.
It wasn't long before other equines pushed their way from the depths of the Kingdom, first a monochromatic colored mare. The scars that adorned her facade did not go unnoticed by Wichita, her eyes softened and her own hurt was swept away by her concern for the other. The mares of her old herd had a special bond, all quite loving and supportive of each other. They slept together, grazed together, and sought comfort from a loving touch that they would only ever receive from each other. It was not unusual (at least to Wichita) as she approached the shadow and light painted femme, as if she had known her always, words softly escaping her maw. "Oh sug," she offered, reaching her velveteen muzzle towards the track of wounds on the others face. She herself was no stranger to seeing such atrocities, most of her ex herd mates had their fair share of disfigurement, though few to a degree such as this.
Another bull reached their small congregation, and she had to wonder if this was all that was left to these lands. This second to greet her was a grey as well, though not the sky hued tone of Jason, and he had pleasant words of greeting for her. The two new faces both seemed to reflect an air of concern, before words to confirm this fact were provided. "Well, I reckon I feel tore slap up," she conceded. " With a bit of spit, and elbow grease I'm sure I'll clear right up. It's nice to meet ya'll I'm Wichita." She gave a small chagrined smile.
Jason watched Witchita when she lifted her head and opened her eyes. He recalled the first time he had come to the Gates so many years ago. It had retained its beauty and majesty throughout the years, and he was glad to share it with such a worthy mare. His eyes soon drifted to the sight before him so he too could admire the snow-covered kingdom. He then noted the trees parting and from its branches emerged a friendly face.
”Fiasko!” Jason instinctively exclaimed upon seeing his friend. He was glad to see her. She had become a quick confidant and a joy to have around. Not a moment had Jason ever minded her deformity in fact he found it to be of curious beauty. He trotted forward and brushed his forehead playfully against Fiasko’s shoulder before settling beside her. Witchita approached seemingly just as comfortable with the other mares’ presence as himself. ”This is Witchita.” He spoke happily. ”She’s…” His voice broke when he heard the approach of another horse. This one was familiar as well, and Jason simply nodded his head in greeting. He didn’t know Mast nearly as well as Fiasko, but he was sure that Witchita deserved an overzealous welcome.
Jason shifted his stance so that he stood perpendicular to both Fiasko and Witchita. From this point he could easily see Mast and contribute more to the conversation. Witchita soon recognized the others concern and responded with as much spunk as Jason had come to expect. ”Well I sure am glad that we made it here without any more trouble. You’ll have plenty of time to get cleaned up and settled in, Witchita.” He shifted his weight. ”Perhaps we should head to the river to catch a drink and you can get to know everybody along the way.”
The instant the mare's eyes fall on her face, the mare's expression falters. Sadness replaces her previous expression and Fiasko’s eye drops. She’s not entirely sure how to respond and shuffles her feet awkwardly. When the mare reaches towards her face she freezes. She’s not often touched, and especially not on her scars. She feels uncomfortable, but she forces herself not to pull away, or make a face. She needs to learn to be more comfortable with others. At least it’s better than instant rejection.
She brushes off her discomfort by responding to Jason’s introduction. Somehow she doesn’t feel quite so awkward when he playfully bumps her on the shoulder and moves to stand beside her. Odd. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Wichita!” And it truly is. She’s glad to have new blood here in the Gates.
Within minutes of the introduction, the sound of hooves crunching through the snow reaches her ears. She turns, and is pleasantly surprised when she realizes that Mast has come to join their little gathering. She smiles pleasantly at the grey stallion and nods in greeting before turning back to Wichita.
As he takes a place on her other side, Mast also notices the mare's state and expresses concern. But Wichita doesn't appear terribly worried herself and replies with a touch of spunk that Fiasko finds charming. She has a feeling that she’s going to like the silver dapple mare.
Jasons suggests they make for the river, and Fiasko nods in agreement. “That sounds like an excellent plan!” She steps out from between the two stallions, and turns in the direction of the river. “Shall we?” Then she begins to walk, trusting that they will fall in beside her. It’s a strange amount of confidence for a mare that, only years before, had been practically afraid of her own shadow!
As they walk, she turns her head to glance at the silver dapple mare. “If you don’t mind me asking, what made you decide to come to Beqanna Wichita?” She hopes Wichita does not think that she’s prying too much!
