"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
04-01-2017, 03:08 AM (This post was last modified: 04-05-2017, 10:05 PM by marjorie.)
It's always a good time for trying new things, right?
Maybe that is why the Magenta colored mare finds herself standing on the edge of the field ready for a new start in life. Though a slight sense of hesitancy holds her back from stepping further into the land of those who are also searching for the same thing. For stepping into this place meant that for once she would be working towards something, anything more than just wandering in the shadows... Was it really something she was ready for? Committing herself to an entire herd or kingdom. Proving loyalty and giving her trust to complete strangers? How was it that the rest of Beqanna seemed to do it so easily?
The winds from the north gentle traced around and through her mane, causing the dark purple pink hair to dance elegantly against her neck as she watched the others in silence. Was it really possible? To make such organized living run smoothly? ...I guess it was about that time she find out, right? With a snort, the mare steps forward into the long grasses of the meadow, allowing them to brush gently against her legs and tickle her lean belly as she makes herself the next available recruit.
"It is time," she mutters to herself quietly. "Yes, time." It is when the wind picks up slightly that she turns to look towards the towering mountain, the focal point that now sat in view of all Beqanna and with a soft sigh, she nods to it quietly. It was time to live her life the way her mother had intended. Atleast for now. Until something better came along. Finally she tears her gaze away from the mountain slowly, turning to look at out amongst the other small groups and rolls her shoulders. Now was the time to wait. For someone was sure to come along eventually... Right?
The world seems a little less lonely with Castile still clutching her side. Lior has taken to his seclusion – a norm of his – which abandons Nayl to her own musings and her own responsibilities. The crown on her head seems heavier as a silence plagues Nerine in a way she never thought possible. All those that had been so passionate, so fiery, have slipped into the shadows except for those select few who float to the forefront of her mind. They will be rewarded.
She will not – cannot – allow her home to fall peril to the powers of Beqanna, not again (although the Jungle’s demise was no one’s fault).
Being here in the field triggers a deep discomfort in her core, but she is here nonetheless. Castile yawns idly at her side after having spent hours trekking across the terrain to even reach this foreign place. There is no ocean – no waves lapping at the shore – and there are no seagulls scrummaging through the tall grass. This place is so new, so odd, and he carefully drinks it in with an analytical eye.
”Her,” he somberly says with a curious glance up to mother after having spotted the magenta mare, ”I like her color.” Nayl regards the boy with questioning, but she shrugs and turns her attention to the clusters of horses nearby. It doesn’t take long for the color to assault her golden eyes; the shade of magenta contrasts heavily against piebalds, grays, and chestnuts. And with a hushed nod to the boy, they move toward this stranger. The grass whispers as they cut through, the wind sighing against their skin.
”Hello,” she says, blunt but certainly not unkind, ”I’m Nayl.” The boy, with a ruffle of his wings, inches closer, watching her intently with an eye of gold and silver. ”And I’m Castile.” He isn’t a drastic addition to the conversation, but it doesn’t stop him. His mother’s shadow isn’t enough to suppress him. ”We’re from Nerine. Who are you?”
04-02-2017, 04:52 PM (This post was last modified: 04-02-2017, 06:15 PM by marjorie.)
It doesn't take long, at least not all day before she hears the sounds of soft hoofbeats in the distance making their approach. For a moment she keeps still, watching the rest before finally turning her head slowly to look in the direction of the mare and her son. The sight of castile instantly causes her heart to twist in anxiety as the reminder of her youngest comes to mind. She hasn't seen him since she gave birth to him this season and every day she had spent hoping that he'd return to her, find her. She wasn't sure where he had gone. If he had chosen to leave her behind, or if he had been taken. Or if simply he had wandered too far, unable to find his way home. But what she hoped for was that she would one day find him, that they would cross paths once more and she could fret and worry and beg for his forgiveness for failing at being his mother.
But now is not the time for worries, for regrets, for searching. Now was the time for permanence. Somewhere, something she could attach herself to so that maybe, just maybe the small magenta haired colt could be given a chance to find her. It is when the mare and her colt are finally in front of her that she nods, allowing them to greet her. "Hello there, Nayl, Castile.. It is nice to meet you." Her voice is singsong sweet, light and airy as the worries are pushed deep within to the darkest corners of her mind. "My name is Marjorie," she smiles a gentle smile as she looks down at Castile before glancing up towards Nayl. "Nerine? I can't say I've heard of it. I have made my home in the forests until recently..."
Her voice trails off as the wind begins to pick up slightly, the lovely scent of coming rain following with it as the clouds overhead roll across the blue skies with ease. She glances between the two before letting the corners of her lips tilt upwards a bit more. "Can you tell me about Nerine? Is it a nice place?" She directs the questions at both of them, wanting to include Castile in the conversation the best she could for she could remember back when she was just a child and her own mother had brought her here in search of recruits for a kingdom that was no more. It had been good training, and in all honesty as a child, she had enjoyed it very much and she had a feeling he might too.
Glancing towards Nayl she nods gently. The woman reminds her of her mother. The blunt nature but kindness in her words. The strong and sturdy posture. In all honesty, she had a feeling that were here mother around the two would get along fabulously. Yet it had been years since Marjorie had seen the firefly mare. Like many of the old, Hoxepin had disappeared to the deepest corners of Beqanna, not ready for the change that had come and mourning their losses, unlike the young who had ventured out ready to explore and build for the generations to come.
I can guide you if you feel blind. I just need you to be willing to journey into my ill mind.
04-04-2017, 08:05 PM (This post was last modified: 04-04-2017, 08:07 PM by Nayl.)
She spun the stars on her fingernails
”The forest is a very comforting place,” it’s where she broods and where she escapes from the world, even if only a moment. It’s where she can pretend to be back in the Jungle where the trees embraced her and her eyes were flooded with green. She reflects on it momentarily and her expression softens underneath the veil of her forelock. It unleashes a torrent of memories, but she is quickly back to the present, hardly missing a beat as her son’s nose climbs up her shoulder. Nayl regards him with a gentle nudge, but then her autumn eyes find Marjorie. ”A pleasure,” the boy states with a ruffle of his wings, groping for crumbs of the manners that have been spared to him in such a short time. Alas, he can’t elaborate on his home – not yet, at least – since he has mostly only seen the cave and the vast ocean. Mother seizes this, noting her son’s hesitation.
”It is. To tell you the truth, it took me a while to take to it,” a shrug ripples through her shoulders, ”but that was because I grew up in the Jungle and only enjoyed being surrounded by trees. Being in Nerine, at first, made me feel exposed and vulnerable, but I soon noticed its charm.” Of course, it still isn’t the Jungle; it never will be. Nerine is home, but it hasn’t quite captured her heart as the rainforest had with its humidity and wildlife. ”It’s on the coast to the west. There is an ocean that reaches far past your eyes can see, and caves that many nestle themselves into to rest or to avoid storms. There are dunes on the high cliff and still tall beach grass. It’s a rather pleasant place, to be honest. It’s home to mostly mares with only a select few stallions.” And she contemplates how she will be changing the ranks and the homing of the males. Their coast has been slipping into a stillness that she can no longer tolerate. It’s changing now.
But she doesn’t yet indulge Marjories in the fixings of Nerine, not yet.
Castile is content standing at Nayl’s side while she describes their home in detail. He considers it, weighs it, tastes the salty wind on his tongue. Then he blinks, turning his head slightly toward the right in mother’s direction, a silver eye glancing at Marjorie. ”Where are you from?” He asks his boyish curiosity, a lopsided, whiskey smile lacing across his lips.
Marjorie had loved the forests for quite some time. Like they brought comfort to Nayl, they brought comfort to her. It was lovely how peaceful the emptiness of the forests and the towering trees could bring one such happiness. Many say that a solitary life can bring someone pain, discomfort and loneliness. Yet that hadn't been the case for her while living amongst the trees of the forests. "You are right, it really is a comforting place. I haven't found another like it, not yet anyway."
Smiling softly then at the thoughts of the dark forests she blinks away the memories of it, forcing herself to focus on the mother and son that stood in front of her. It is Nayl's next words that catch her attention and suddenly her ears prick forward at attention, her head tilting slightly in curiosity and with it Nayl's slight shrug does not go unnoticed. She knows what it's like. When a true home can't come anywhere close to the one you have been forced to live with.
Even though the forest had been a most comforting and perfect place, it had come nowhere near close to the dale with it's wide open fields of rolling emerald green grasses, large lakes and tall towering trees. Everything in the Dale came in explosive color and it had been a place of peace and happiness when she had lived there and amongst it's residents. It wasn't often that she thought about it, but now was definitely one of those times and for a moment her heart aches with a small sharp pain as it's memory traces through her mind. "I can understand why," she pauses for a moment, trying to think of how to word her own thoughts without sounding too silly. "Differences between a new home and the one you were forced to leave behind can be very overwhelming and leaving you missing the true one." She smiles awkwardly then.
"Though Nerine's charm must have done wonders, as you speak so well of it. You make it sound like a truly wonderful and vibrant place to live." She doesn't mention the majority of mares. She understands that if this mare were from the Jungle that it would be exactly what she would want to be a part of and honestly, Marjorie wouldn't mind that life either. A group of mares can be just as strong as a group of stallions if not stronger. Though it all depended on how united they were and how well they worked together.
It is when Castile speaks that she finally sets her eyes on him, watching as he peers at her with one eye and shrugging gently she directs the conversation towards him. "I am from a kingdom that was here before Beqanna's lands shifted. It was called The Dale and for miles and miles it was full of thick emerald green grasses, and wide oak trees. We even had a dark blue lake that sat in the center and the waters would sparkle brilliantly in the summer's sun."
I can guide you if you feel blind. I just need you to be willing to journey into my ill mind.
”You will,” she replies coolly, ”whether it remains the forest or a new place you find. We all have our serenity somewhere.” The Jungle was her happiness, her heart, but there was nothing truly serene about it. It screamed for a strong family of women that could endure its untamed wilderness; there were challenges every day and it was a world of sheer ferocity. Here, the forests are tranquil and allow one to succumb to their thoughts; it’s the opposite of her Jungle, but she is learning to welcome it.
But the Jungle is slipping farther and farther away into Beqanna’s history. Soon, there will be generations that never knew it existed, children who will never know that their mother or grandmother stemmed from the fierce Jungle. Nayl can only mimic its power so much on the coastline, but the new landscape softens the image of the women. It adds a lull to their name that had never been there before. ”Missing it is an understatement,” she sighs as she blinks away the memories that she has so desperately clutched onto, never wanting to truly let go. How long has it been already? Years. But how? Time is flying nearly too fast, but one hardly even notices when they do not age. When she breathes in the nectar-sweet air, she no longer smells the exotic flowers, but now a saltiness that calls her back to the ocean. ”I think you would enjoy it in Nerine,” because there are few that have said otherwise. True, many of the originals have left, but they simply disappeared – they didn’t abandon Nerine for elsewhere.
Nayl’s heart leaps back to her home, but she doesn’t yet turn to head to the coast. Castile, bubbling with curiosity, asks questions of Marjorie’s own history. Her stomach clenches briefly when she hears about the Dale. There were never close ties that bound her to the land; she never held great loyalty to it, but it was nonetheless a land where her family lived. A reminiscent smile shadows her pretty face. ”My grandfather lived in the Dale for years. His name is Tiphon, but he has since disappeared.” An easy shrug rolls across her shoulders, pitying the idea of one less family member, but they had never been truly close. ”He lived in Ischia, an island north of here, and helped in creating it, but has since vanished.” Castile listens to all of this, capturing the meager tale of his great-grandfather and memorizing his name before glancing back to Marjorie. ”It sounds wonderful there – a lot of space to run.” Oddly enough, even with wings sprouting from his shoulders, Castile still prefers to run across the hills and sand dunes at home. ”I’m sorry Beqanna ate the Dale like it ate the Jungle.” It was long before his time; he can only imagine how frightening – how heart-wrenching – it had been to see their entire world come crashing down.
