"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
Change was coming over the lands once again and he decided it was time. Time to venture forth across the lands to seek his purpose. He lacked purpose these days and it ate him inside. He craved a challenge and only one land he had heard of promised that. Nerine.
So across mountains and through forests he came. His large frame stopped for nothing nor no one. When he set his mind to something there was no stopping him. He was The Hunter after all. A protector too. He was kind and loving but a strength unmatched by many. Through his infinite years he had ruled lands, fought battles, loved many as well. And he had many more years to live, to serve. So like a thunder he rolled into the kingdom fore which he seeked. Standing solid and alert at the edge his blue gaze scanned the terrain. Searching for the one who ruled the lands or if unavailable another resident in charge. He stood ready... Waiting... Fore he had walked thru the valley of death and he feared NO evil.
Wish Upon A Star
HTML by Call
Ooc: short but to the point. I'd be interested in Orion becoming one of Nayl's gladitors. Let the games begin >;]
Nayl weaves magic into the world around her, strengthening every day, practicing every day. Creatures of sand, of water, of rock, all work in tandem with her until she destructs them all with a mere flip of her tail or a turn of her back. The power is racing through her blood and seeping into her bones. She drinks from it daily, knowing now only how it is to be this strong.
And Castile sees it.
When he joins her during her walk, he sees as the sand rolls undertow and how, in the near distance, the waves unnaturally rise and fall, crashing with frightening brutality. He is not afraid; mother would never harm him. She is strengthening to protect him, to protect them, to protect Nerine. Oftentimes while she threads magic into the unrisen souls of the world, Castile is concentrating on himself. Occasionally, his wings flutter against his sides as he attempts to take flight, but to no avail. Shifting is still beyond his reach, but it has made itself known through plumes of smoke twisting from his nostrils when he’s angry and snorts.
One day, he tells himself, he will be strong like mother.
His wings beat idly against the sea breeze as he gallops to Nayl. She placidly glances over her shoulder at him, but her attention immediately returns to the stallion at the fine edges of their home. The churning of sand becomes the only audible noise when she unlatches herself from the magic to appear plainly in front of the stranger. With eyes lit by an inner flame, she stops to address him. ”Who are you?” Even in motherhood, she has not lost the sharpened edge to her voice. ”And what brings you to Nerine?” She doesn’t realize that news of her plans are already expanding, that there will be strength soon flooding into their borders.
As he waits patiently, cause frankly when you have an eternity to live time is nothing, he surveys the land. Of what he can see it looks like a fine Kingdom. The west horizon stretches as far as thee eye can see across a blanket of crested waves. Sea-green grasses sparsely decorate the terrain giving the inhabitants needed nourishment. Yes, it was a fine land. His large frame rested and orbs half lidded lazily. Salty breeze whipped his drapery across them...
He had just become content when a shifting in the distance caught his eye. A disturbance of sorts that he couldn't quite put his hoof on. Lobes thrusted forward in amusement as two figures were seen amongst the happenings. As they neared everything seemed to settle. They approached with little caution or reserve. The child happily bounding beside his mother brought a gentle smile to his maw. The decorative mare seemed sure of herself so he could only assume she held position along with power. Her abrupt words backed with a spitfire tone confirmed his assumption. But one should never assume...
Relaxed position remained as she approached and questioned his intentions. Crown dipped in a polite manner as he began to answer them, "Orion, miss. I 'tam but a servant M'Lady. In 'twhatever why I shall be of service to thy Kingdom 'ere". His words were strong but kind. Looking down to the young one still at her side. He found it rude to skip formalities before business so he left it at that. He could tell she had more to say... Much more.
”Orion, you say?” She tastes his name, plays with it as her fiery eyes trail from his face, along his neck and back, to his haunches. It is rare, though not unheard of, for a male to arrive at their borders with an intention to stay. There had been those exceptions – Stillwater, Lior, Brennen, Simeon – but two of the four have left, one is the sire of the child standing at her side now, and the other is rallying what few fighters they have here. They have a purpose in this matriarchal society, but even now as they speak, her mind is tracing back to a concoction of ideas to further give the stallions incentive to stay (or try to).
A coy grin presents itself across her pretty face, but its life is short as her gaze slithers back to his. ”I’m Nayl,” there’s iron in her voice, hardened steel as she drinks another lungful of salty air, ”your Queen should you stay.” The title is still like nectar on her tongue, addictive as the word slips from her lips. She always wanted to out-do mother, and she finally had with a wave of her hand. The mutinous act had been simple enough, the dethroning quick.
There are days that she revisits the memory. Although she wanted more of a challenge – a better fight – it still led her to the desired outcome. The crown still settles nicely atop her head.
With a regarding tilt of her head, Nayl indicates the boy who looks so much like her. ”And this is my son, Castile,” remember his name, she doesn’t say, because one day he will be great, too. ”Nice to meet you,” the child says with childish eagerness, but he is silenced by the whispered touch of his mother as she takes a step to the side. ”If it is Nerine you wish to live in, then follow me,” the doors are left agape, permitting his admission into her home. While her eyes remain trained on what lies ahead, Castile frequently glances over in-between steps to further scrutinize the stranger. ”Feel free to ask questions,” she adds as an afterthought while they travel toward the shoreline.
Nayl...His Queen...She hadn't to have said it. He already knew. Her tone gave it away. Along with her posture and everything else about her. They had that way about them. To tell you all you needed to know without a word. But he was polite and let her enjoy her moment. Smiling as his gaze that had rested so easily upon her slid to the young one at her side. A spitting imagine and the pride within her beamed upon speaking his name. "Hello Castile. 'Tis a pleasure to meet thee." Lowering his large head to the child's level he spoke kindly. He was rather fond of children. Memories of the filly left in the forest coming to mind as he had watched over her. Making sure she had been safe until found...
He returned back to his usual position just as she instructed for him to follow. Which he did a step or two behind and to her side. The colt eyeing him as they walked. He was curious to see what the lands held. She spoke briskly of questions had and though he had no immediate question he simply said, "I shall My Queen, if one shall arise."
”You as well, sir,” he is quiet – obedient – at mother’s side. He takes careful note of his mannerisms and the tones of his voice. She is always listening, always watching. This is her first child, her only child thus far, and she is adamant to raise him to be something. Her muzzle reaches down to touch the crest of his neck, but her attention always returns to the stallion.
They walk at a casual stroll, mostly. Nayl occasionally gains momentum, always moving with purpose, but then she reminds herself of the company and forces herself to slow down again. She brings him where she initially brings all newcomers. They traverse across sand dunes and worn trails until the cliff greets them with a turbulent wind. The ground just falls away in front of them. They can hear the waves crashing down and the seagulls crying into the open sky. There is splashing of foals down below in the shallows and the talk of mothers at the mouths of the caves.
”The cliff and the ocean,” she finally says as her gaze drifts like an aloof butterfly, drinking in the sights. ”There is a path over there,” she inclines her head in the direction of a trail opening obscured by beach grass, ”that will take you down to the beach. Since you have no wings, the trail will certainly be of use.” A coy grin slithers across the thin line of her lips as she glances down the precarious drop. ”I would hate to see anyone fall…” Castile creeps toward the edge and peers down, flaring his wings outward as though to take flight, but he decides against it and reels backward. Flight is on his agenda still. Mother can’t exactly teach when she has no wings of her own.
So, he looks back to Orion and quietly asks, ”Where did you come from?”
He follows obediently. His stride consciously slowed as each heavy hoof was planted upon Nerine soil. She was on a mission and he allowed it. Stoking the flame of passion that burned brightly in her soul for her lands... Her son... Her crown... Her legacy...
As they approached an apparent end to the road, the drop of land to sea, she looked out upon her kingdom and his sea blue gaze followed. Noting the path she reveals with a nod of his heavy head. His focus shifts ever slightly as the colt stands against the breeze, wings extended. A smile crosses his maw at the child's eagerness but a hint of concern remains in his eyes. He was always the protector. Ever watchful he observes. Soon the colt decides against his eager attempt and falls back to his mothers side. In time young one he thinks to himself, his smile still prevalent...
Focus shifts back to his Queen as she inquires his whereabouts previous to now. "Tis a long discussion that subject. 'Tam very aged M'Queen. I have not been in Beqanna long though but 'tam where I wish to be M'Lady." With a bow of his crown he looks back to the path. He is sure she has more important things to attend to so he excuses himself, "I am sure ye are extremely busy so I will not keep thee. If anything arises I am but a call away. Good day My Queen." He looks to the smokey colt at her side and lowers himself to match his level, "One day very soon ye shall soar above these lands Castile. Keep practicing." His tone gentle and sincere. Silently he moves towards the path she had pointed out...
