"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
CURIOSITY KILLED THE CAT & SATISFACTION BROUGHT HIM BACK
Melting snow from the mountains feeds into the Meadows streams, causing them to overflow in places to form small ponds and damp earth. The air is crisp and cool in the early spring time, leaving a very irritable Dahmer shivering in the expansive Meadow. He knows he should have known better than to venture away from Tephra before the conclusion of winter - the humid air of his volcano home spoils him; he would never journey away, if he didn't have to.
The winged thoroughbred, upon inspection of the moist ground all around him, deciding to pivot on his muscled hindquarters and head back up towards higher ground, where maybe he wouldn't need to focus on avoiding getting his hooves stuck. Ruffling the feathered appendages against his sides, the blue-eyed beast pushes his weight forward to ascend the hill leisurely while his gaze moves over the green carpet of the Meadow. A red and black mare stands a few yards away from him, her frame previously blocked by a small thicket of trees, and for a moment the Commander thinks it to be Karaugh, Sylva's most interesting inhabitant.
He takes a few strides forward before realizing his mistake, but at this point it's too late to back away and Dahmer gifts the duo-toned mare with a sheepish grin. "Sorry, thought you were someone else," he offers with a chuckle before tilting his dark head to the side, "My name is Dahmer. How do you feel about some company?" Mmmm, Dahmer the small talk expert.
She finds herself quietly padding through the soft grasses of the meadow, the fresh springtime air bringing their roots up in a brilliant green, growing tall and long as they sway in the sweet-smelling breeze. Her slender paws bring her through the grasses at a rather quick pace, her bushy tail allowing her to turn on a dime as she roams happily through the meadow. Her eyes, still as red as smoldering embers, can see a lot more in this form, and her hearing and smell were a lot better, too. So much better, in fact, that she comes to an abrupt halt beneath the grasses that were to tall for her to see above, her little black nose flaring as she inhales the scents around her.
Someone was coming.
She darts away, quick as a flash, into the safety of a nearby copse of spring-time trees. Within their shade and shadow, her fiery gaze is set on the one who casually strides towards the little fox and who has yet to know of her presence.
Before the black stallion gets too close (Merida has never been in her fox form with another equine, and thus made her quite nervous and fidgety), the little fox begins to morph and change, albeit clumsily, into the black and red-flecked pony-mare that is hardly unnoticeable with her stark contrasts of color against the vibrant green of spring.
He joins her, pardons himself for mistaking her for someone else, and then lingers. Merida snorts sharply, her red gaze boring into him with her black ears casually flipped backwards into her red mane. She presses her lips together and wrinkles her nose slightly, her tail flicking sharply against her red-flecked flank. “I guess I don’t really have much choice,” she mutters with a quick toss of her head – what did she expect coming to the meadow?
“Merida,” she offers hurriedly, inspecting him further with a bold, flame-colored gaze. “Why do you smell of smoke and ash?” Merida’s ears fold backwards once more, wary of the unfamiliar smell on this stallion’s coat.
CURIOSITY KILLED THE CAT & SATISFACTION BROUGHT HIM BACK
The mystery mare turns her red gaze on the thoroughbred stallion, hard and cold. Dahmer remains undeterred, his own expression exuding a sort of pleasantness that he has only depicted since the birth of his son. He'd been a more brooding creature before then, though his old nature does occasionally work its way back to the surface. The obsidian and crimson mare grumbles under her breath and her ears hide within the tangle of her mane. The Commander of Tephra tips his head to the side slightly, a frown pulls at his lips as he snorts irritably. "It would be perfectly alright for you to say 'no, I would not like any company'," the black stallion states before pivoting his winged frame to take his leave.
The mare, however, seems to change her mind. She introduces herself as Merida, though the wary gaze does not disappear from her dark face. Dahmer allows her a bit more space, a step or two taken backwards, though he does turn his head back in her direction. Brilliant blue eyes regard her momentarily before finally answering her question, his smile finding its way back onto his face. "I smell of Tephra, home to Beqanna's volcano." It has been his home ever since arriving on the island; the stallion had done a brief stint in the River, but Ellyse had collected him and returned him to his rightful place, just before the birth of their son.
His own nostrils flare as he looks at Merida curiously, searching for any abnormalities in her scent. There are none, really, and its her hidden ears that draw his attention again. "Does my smell offend you?"
