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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "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


    Old Warrior, Swallowed and Spitten [Joining, Any] (Offspring, Hurricane)
    #1
    Night after night, he tried to remember. All he could fathom was the last few nights of him patrolling the borders of Tundra...and now he was placed in a grassy area that was a few hours from where he stood now; heart racing as he took a stop to rest and drink from a river he smelled downwind. This terrain was not one he'd smelt or felt with his hooves before, as his eyes could not see anymore but the black and white of the hours of day.

    "This is perfect...I wake up again in a world I don't truly know...don't even know where the Tundra is...I must be to far from it.." he muttered to himself as he dipped his thick neck downwards to take a drink in the frigid ice cold water, almost completely frozen over. His body still skinny to the bone if you got a closer look at him, malnourished and bony, but still with some energy left in him; strange for such a young Stallion.

    "If I could find Offspring or Hurricane...then maybe I'd get some clear story on what happened, maybe some clue on why I've waken up in a strange world. Just hope the neighbors are welcoming to a wandering blinded Stallion such as me." He chuckled to himself as he shook his head to rid of any droplets from the river on his chin. Arching his neck inward to try and get an itch on his shoulder, as he tried to get himself to relax a bit.

    "At least I can try to take a breather here...hopefully. Then I'll move on and look for answers. Good thing I'm not in the state like how I was when Hurricane and Camelia found me...stronger, but no less blind than I was back then" 
    [Image: sinderaura_zpsayby6qeg.gif]
    #2
    It had been some time since anything exciting had happened in Tephra, at least in Thanata's eyes. Things had been relatively peaceful, which was also a piece of good news. There had been no fights among the kingdom, the residents were peacefully coexisting... all in all, it was relatively nice. Though the mare had heard through the grapevine that the kingdom of Ischia had gained a new leader, it didn't seem that the island kingdom was in severe trouble. There was no rumors of an impending battle, and if there were any horses that had left Ischia, they seemed to be in hiding for now, probably recuperating after having their home taken.

    The mare had briefly thought of going to the Tephra's leader and explaining the situation, but she also figured that the leader would wish to not involve the residents in a fight that wasn't theirs. They might have faced casualties, no matter how many gifted horses fought on either side. Thanata's heart and mind were still at war, for she often wondered what could've happened had the Tephra assisted those of Ischia and prevented them from losing their home.

    Not like anything could be done about it now though; Thanata knew who the previous leader of Ischia was, but any sightings of her seemed to have died down in the three days following the takeover by the stallion who was now running the place. The black mare had gone to some horses in the Meadow and Forest, even a few in the field, to see if they spotted any sign of the mare and any who might have followed her from Ischia. Every day, there was no news, and while Thanata still held out hope, she couldn't help but wonder if the former leader was in hiding for a reason.

    Thanata was an effective multitasker, often going over what had to be done for the day as well as thoughts plaguing her mind while performing other jobs. She was not a full-fledged warrior yet, but felt confident enough in her own abilities to at least stall if not defend the Tephra's border from any intruders. Which was why, today, she was out exploring, as well as keeping an eye out for dangers that may lurk beyond.

    She did eventually come across something - someone - but they did not appear to be a threat. Having followed the river from the herd's main grazing meadow, her hooves crunching through the layers of snow blanketing Tephra's ground, she spotted him. It was a young stallion, probably around an early maturity age. Young enough to be considered a colt by some who didn't know better, but old enough that he could more than likely protect a few mares and lead a herd, whether or not he had the experience to back him up.

    His coat was dark, an obsidian black, like Thanata's own. From her vantage point, she could faintly make out a dorsal stripe down the stallion's back, as well as red-colored streaks in his mane and tail. He was a handsome young creature, fit and proud, no doubt one who had confidence in himself.

    He vaguely reminded Thanata of a champagne stallion she spotted in the Field one day when she'd left Tephra to find news of Ischia's new leader.

    Thanata figured this stallion might be here to ask for a home, or as a visitor from another kingdom. Deciding to go and greet him, the mare made her way down from the small outcropping of rocks she'd been using as a vantage point. Her powerful limbs supported her on the way, her hooves placed carefully with each step; a practiced gait, one she'd picked up during her time in the Tundra due to the amount of snow that had fallen there each cold season. She wasn't a pro at navigation, for she did fall at times, but she had enough practice that she did rarely fall nowadays.

    Though she was upwind, she figured she would call out to the stallion and alert him of her presence, which would give him time to react based on what he wanted to do. In a soft voice, she spoke to him, staying a good number of feet away to show she respected his personal space, "Hello. You seem to be new here; are you looking for someone? One of our leaders perhaps?"
    #3
    Sindor seemed to be a bit more at ease now, muscles relaxed and laid back as he let his neck drop a bit after relieving the itch. His snout, hooves and ears back at work even if he was relaxing for now. If he learned anything from being a warrior at Hurricanes side and a guard of the Tundra, it was to be alert at all times. There were other lessons he learned being a warrior...but they fogged his mind as well. It made him a bit mad with himself, yet another life he had made washed away in his mind, just like his past.

    The big Stallion rumbled to himself in-curse of his amnesia. All his life, all that he could remember anyways, has been ripped and shredded in his mind, only finding fragments here and there. At least the young stallion remembered he actually had a place in the Tundra, and the few days of training as he wasn't a full fledged warrior quite yet, it would of been at least a year or two before he would of become one. 

    The stallion smiled, remembering the bits and pieces of training he did with the two he trusted checking up on him every now and then. Sindor trained good and hard, almost to exhaustion...a lot of his downfall being that he could no longer see. Sindor had been blind ever since he came into this world, and was taken to Tundra by Hurricane. Only thing that Sindor could see was darkness, followed by very very slim darker figures moving about. It got worse everyday to the point where Sindor believed there was no more seeing for him; even now his eyes seemed to play tricks on him...until a voice was heard. 

    A feminine voice to his side, a few feet away it sounded like, calling out to him. Questions of looking for leaders or specific other horses, which she was right to assume. Sindor's senses went to work, trying to gather all the information she may of been giving off to him, smell, the feel of her hooves on the ground, and the tone of her voice. He knew better than to be careful around strange mares, and to be wary of what is said.

    "Ah! Yes, I don't mean to intrude on anyone's home. I'm on the lookout for anyone who knows Hurricane or Offspring. And...also what happened to my home in Tundra. I woke up in a strange area and can't remember what had happened." Sindor, now following the conversation with the mare, stood as proper as he could; head held high, front legs straight and hind legs stiff. Trying to remember his trainee stance he learned when being a warrior, or the one he made up to look important.
    [Image: sinderaura_zpsayby6qeg.gif]
    #4
    At first, his words were quite sincere. He wished to find Offspring and Hurricane, both of whom Thanata knew and could lead him too. But then he uttered that name...

    Tundra...

    It was a name that had not been uttered by many horses since the Reckoning, for just as old Beqanna had disappeared, the Tundra had gone with it. The mare herself had lived there since arriving in Beqanna, graciously taken in by the tall black stallion that this younger one in front of her was searching for.

    Thanata would have no problem answering the stallion's questions, but figured that Offspring or Hurricane, depending on who she found first, could do a better job explaining. She was a kind soul, and could break troubling news gently to others, but felt that Offspring had more of a right to explain what happened to their former home. It had once been his kingdom after all. She should give him the chance to explain if he so wished. And if not, she would do so in his place.

    Her eyes watched the stallion as he adjusted his stance; it was that of a warrior's guard, his frame proper, but stiff, as if he was a little out of practice. Thanata's wasn't all that perfect yet, but she could tell the difference between her own and that of this younger horse. He'd need to get back into the swing of things.

    With a gentle voice, she spoke again, "I can lead you to Offspring or Hurricane. It all depends on who we encounter first; they are not often in the same place for more than a few days, if not hours, at a time. You may follow me if you wish to meet them. They can explain more about what happened."

    She turned around and started walking off back into the Tephra's inner landscape, making sure her hooves hit the patches of snow with a bit more force so the stallion could tell where she was going. Since she had given the younger one his space, the mare was unable to tell that he was blind. But something in her gut told her this stallion didn't see the world the same, to put it frankly. He didn't look at her normally; he didn't make eye contact and spoke as if there was another behind her, even though they were alone.

    She didn't know if the stallion was truly blind, but Thanata was willing to bet. So, making a bit more noise to make it easier for the stallion to figure out where she was, the mare headed back into the Tephra, mentally going through a list of where Offspring or Hurricane could be.
    #5
    A promising answer. the mare knew who he searched for and possibly better yet knew where they were. Sindor remember they were always busy with duties and had barely seen them even during training, and it was always a bit hard to do so when mentors were of short hand around the time.

    - As he could hear crunching in the snow, Sindor realized the mare was slowly walking away to lead him, her hooves heavy with each impact. Perhaps she noticed his eye sight. It made the young stallion a bit more semiconscious and bashful; head lowering to the ground in a slight look of defeat as he followed behind her. 

    - As the snow crunched between his and the mares feet...he wondered who this was. He didn't recall the voice or her smell. Was she new? Or was she a member he never got around to greeting in the few times he trained? What was she now? A warrior, or Herbalist, or even a caregiver? These questions buzzed in Sindor's head.

    - Deciding to ask with baby steps, Sindor got a little closer, unsure where she was in front of him, only to ask some rather simple questions. But it start off with a more former hello. "My name's Sindor, I apologize for not giving my greeting before you found me. I don't quite understand what has happened to the small bit of home I knew and the few stallions who took me in when I was injured."  He paused after a bit, waiting for some possible clarification from the mare, and possibly her own name as well.

    - "I'd also like to ask if I'd still be welcome to where Hurricane and or Offspring reside in now. They're the only stallions I know and remember out of my whole life." Sorrow, although white as snow, seemed to clog up in Sindor's dying eyes. 

    - As Sindor spoke, there seemed to be sharp jagged points showing in his mouth, almost like his teeth were sharp to a fine point and thick at the base. They seemed to poke at his lips every now and then, but un-noticed to Sindor, even when parts of his mouth began to bleed slightly.

    -Giving his full attention to the mare, only a small portion of his senses were to the wild. Since there was another around who seemed to have a good working set of eyes; allowing Sindor's guard to ease a bit, the more conscious minds the better.
    [Image: sinderaura_zpsayby6qeg.gif]
    #6
    Thanata's ears turned so they were focusing on the noise behind her. Even with her heavy hoof fall, the mare was able to pick up on another set of steps, letting her know that the stallion was indeed following her. And it seemed that her intentionally heavy steps were indeed helping him, for he was trailing after her quite easily. She did not wish to say anything about what she'd noticed regarding his eyesight. After all, she didn't know with absolute certainty that he was blind. She was only going off a gut feeling and the behavior she'd been picking up off him.

    Thanata herself had been a rather shy mare when she'd first met the stallions and other residents of the Tundra. She'd hardly ever made eye contact, as she'd been taught by her former herd leader that this was a show of disrespect. But the way this stallion avoided it was different. He had his head turned slightly, as if he wasn't so focused on not making eye contact but instead using another sense that those who were blind depended on: hearing.

    But her polite nature prevented Thanata from commenting. She had no right to say anything anyway; she had a feeling that the stallion wouldn't appreciate it. So she went off her feeling and helped him by intentionally stepping heavy so he could follow her.

    After some time of walking in silence, the stallion spoke up. He introduced himself by the name of Sindor, a rather noble name in Thanata's opinion. He offered an apology and explained his reasoning for the silence earlier, none of which Thanata found offending.

    So, when he was finished, Thanata offered her own words, "It is quite all right Sindor. I was unsure of what happened at first either, when I found myself here. I was lucky to meet the guiding hoof of Offspring myself. I also do not see any issue in you staying where Offspring and Hurricane reside. They both live here, in the Tephra. They have handed leadership to a mare named Lucrezia, but she is a just leader and Offspring and Hurricane are loyal. I think they will welcome you, help you get back into the swing of things."

    As she stepped over a branch protruding from the snow, she allowed her back hoof to nick it, so that the stallion would know where it was. Then, she spoke again, "Apologies for my rudeness Sindor. It is nice to meet you; I go by the name of Thanata."

    She turned her attention back in front to continue leading the way. Some more time passed in silence before they were far into Tephra's territory. Thanata looked around to see if Offspring or Hurricane were here, but she saw neither stallion. She looked at Sindor, "I do not see either of them here, but I will call for them so they can come speak to you and explain what has happened since you left the Tundra."

    She took a few steps away before tilting her head back. She stuck her muzzle to the sky and let out a loud call for the two stallions that Sindor was looking for, hoping they were close enough that they could hear.

    Once she was done, she looked back at Sindor, "I suggest we remain here. Hopefully Offspring or Hurricane will come soon."

    @[Offspring]
    @[Hurricane]
    #7
    something has been taken from deep inside of me;
    the secret I've kept locked away no one can ever see.

      He is weighed down with the heavy burden of memories – of loss, of change, of death – and as such, he is weary, tired, and worn down. Whittled to the bone mentally, and though his statuesque frame is coiled and thick with rolling, sinewy muscle, he is altogether only a shadow of what he had once been. 

       The flickering ember burning inside of him is a constant reminder of what he has lost, emotionally, physically – he longs for the harsh winter, for its frigid and shaky grasp across his rigid spine and across his terse cheek – and he longs for the frost to unfurl once more from inside of him, to encase him in its icy reprieve.
     
       He has been dealt a cruel hand, however, and where ice once thrived inside of him, the fire now burns – and where snow and ice had once clung to the marred surface of his flesh, now humidity lingers, draped across him like a lead-laden covering – leaving him drenched in sweat. Everything he had known had been stripped away from him, and the glacial tundra he had called his own was no more, swallowed up and drifting somewhere to the bottom of the churning, ravenous sea.
     
       As much as he tried to avoid the alluring clutches of sleep, even he is prone to becoming weakened to its soothing siren’s call, and though he is all too aware of the nightmares that would plague him upon slumber’s descent, he is powerless to ward it off for more than a few days at a time. He is tucked beneath a broad, yet wiry and unusual tree, the girth of his form pressed up against its scratching bark – drifting in and out of consciousness as fatigue has begun to settle in.
     
       Each moment stolen away by his nightmares (which, in truth, were not nightmares at all – but rather, a replay of memories of a time spent in another world, wrought with terror and violence) further agitates him, and when he is stirred and startled from his rest by a loud call of his name, he is further from contentment than he has ever been.
     
       With a grunt of disdain and a gentle shake of his large neck, his dark, tangled tresses fall over his vivid, red eyes, as he lumbers forth languidly. The warmth of the sun is unkind to him, resting heavily upon the slope of his spine as its heat settles into his scarred skin, but he grows more and more numb to it by the day as the pyrokinesis that lay dormant within him becomes stronger.
     
       It is not long until the two distant figures come into view – equally as stark and inky black as he himself is, and both familiar to him (though one he is much more acquainted with than the other). The irritation of the interruption soon wanes, and his expression is less terse and agitated; bordering more on stoicism – though there is a glint of light in his eye as his iron gaze meets with Thanata.
     
       ”Thanata,” he murmurs, his voice rough and ragged on the edges, as he acknowledges her with a faint nod. He then observes the broad stallion beside her, studying his mahogany-tipped tresses that lay haphazardly over his pale, sightless eyes. ”Sindor – it has been some time. You must have questions. Unfortunately, I will be the only one to answer them – Hurricane does not reside here, nor has he ever. The last time I saw him was along the eastern border of the forest, some time ago.”
     
       He pauses, his heady stare searching the distant shore, where the greedy waves lap repeatedly at the coastline. ”The Tundra is gone. It, and all of the other kingdoms, were taken by the faeries. To teach those craving power a lesson.” There is a flicker of darkness within his eyes; time had left him angrier and more callous over the loss of his land. ”In their place, new ones arose. Myself, along with Eight of the Valley, and Magnus, petitioned to the faeries for a refuge in the wake of the reckoning. Thus, Tephra was born from the ashes.”
     
       He is quiet for a moment, glancing between them.
     
       ”Welcome.”
    wounds so deep they never show; they never go away.
    like moving pictures in my head, for years and years they've played.
    Offspring




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